HARRY

Our feet pound on the gravel as we tear underneath the flyover away from the squad car and into the darkness. I know we have mere seconds to get as far away as possible, before the car stops and our footsteps are audible. I am heading towards the steps that will take me up onto the road, but instinct suddenly kicks in and at the last second I veer right and scramble up the slope on all fours, diving into the shadows and coming to a halt as the ground beneath my feet meets the roof above my head. I crouch low behind a concrete joist and turn around to watch the scene below me unfold, trying to slow my breathing to avoid detection. Chloe is hot on my heels, tucking herself in beside me and then peering around me to get a better view. Our eyes meet briefly, and I press my index finger to my lips indicating to be quiet. She gives a single nod, her mouth pressed into a hard line as though she is physically having to contain a scream.

The police car slows to a stop and the front doors open, allowing two uniformed officers to step out. Their forms are illuminated by the flashing lights, and we watch as they close the car doors and begin to poke around the wasteland where we were standing just moments earlier, nudging rubbish with their feet and peering into the long grass. The crackle from their radios is faintly audible amid the noise from the flyover, but not clear enough to make out what is being transmitted. They slowly make their way across the gravel, edging gradually closer to our hiding place as their search takes them up the slope.

I watch intently; my eyes darting from the police, to the steps that would carry me to safety, to Chloe beside me who is looking more and more terrified by the second. Any minute now they will turn around and leave, surely? They won't bother to come all the way up here. They're not from Forensics - they're just poking around on the offchance of finding something of interest. They won't be that thorough - will they?

My heart rate that had previously slowed since crouching still is picking up again, as I am now starting to realise that being discovered is a real threat. Even if the police are not here to look for me, they would find it extremely suspicious that two people are hiding in this barren wasteground, only a few feet from an abandoned car. A quick registration check would tell them that car belongs to someone who is wanted for questioning in relation to a murder. They would put two and two together in a matter of seconds, and the game would be up.

Panic creeps over me but I fight it with every fibre of my being, determined to keep a clear head. Right now my freedom depends solely on my ability to make a good judgement. The officers are inching ever closer, blissfully unaware they are only feet away from a wanted man. If I were to make a run for it, the surprise element would buy me a couple of seconds at most before they would be hot on my tail, and I couldn't guarantee Chloe would remain hidden. If she were caught who knows what trouble she could land me in with her loose lips and uncontrollable hysteria?

I feel her gaze on me, and I turn my head a couple of degrees to my right. Chloe's eyes are wide and her expression fearful, her hands now pressed over her mouth no doubt in an attempt to remain silent and not give us away. She is staring unblinkingly at me, as though begging me to give her some sort of instruction, to get us out of this, but I don't have the answer. Every muscle in my body is tensed, ready to flee, and my instinct is screaming at me to make a break for it. But something keeps me where I am, and as one of the officers shines his torch up the slope in our direction both Chloe and I lean back, pressing our bodies against the unforgiving concrete, desperately trying to blend in. I hold my breath as just the other side of the joist shoes crunch gravel and a voice sounds just to my left, no more than three feet away and muffled by the grey mass between us:

"There's nothing here. He'll be long gone by now."

"Nothing down here, either."

The second voice is much further away, likely at the bottom of the slope among forgotten rubbish and used drug paraphernalia.

"I'll radio to arrange for the car to be towed. Let's try the other side of the ring road. There are some empty lockups down there where he might be hiding."

Footsteps make their way into the distance, followed by the warm whump of car doors closing, and an engine being started. After a minute I release my breath as soundlessly as I can and risk a peek around the joist. The police car is just pulling away, its crude blue lights dancing in the still night like a retro disco beacon, my car remaining still and empty where I left it, undoubtedly ready to be taken to the police compound. I turn to Chloe and breathe a deep sigh of relief.

"That was way too fucking close."

Her expression has relaxed somewhat now the immediate danger has passed but she is still skittish, like a jumpy hare leaping about a field of dandelions.

"What do we do now?" she asks, her eyes pleading.

"We get as far away from here as possible."

"What if we're seen?" she squeaks.

"We need to stick to the back roads. Stay in the shadows. Keep your wits about you, and your eyes open. We need to be alert."

I don't have time for long discussions, and she seems satisfied with these curt instructions. She nods fervently, and I check once more that the coast is clear before looking back at her and inclining my head for her to follow me. I side-step my way down the slope in the direction of the steps at the far end of this cesspit, reaching them in half a minute, and then racing up two at a time, coming out at the side of the ring road that is partially lit by street lamps.

"I thought you said we need to stay in the dark!" Chloe yelps from behind me as she emerges into the glare of the artificial light.

"Shut the fuck up," I hiss at her, as I scurry along the pavement with my head down, avoiding looking at cars but at the same time trying to survey the oncoming traffic out of the corner of my eye, looking for any patrolling police vehicles. I'm familiar with the lockups on the other side of the ring road that the officers were talking about just now so I purposely head in the opposite direction instead, where I know there is a tube station. There is, of course, a likelihood that the police will be manning the local underground stops, but if they aren't I will be on my way away from here much quicker than I would be on foot. It is a risk I have to take, and my instinct has served me fairly well so far tonight.

I take the first road on the left at the bottom of the flyover, ducking back into the shadows and crossing to the other side before hurrying down an alley to cut through between the houses. Behind me I can hear Chloe's breathing as she jogs along, keeping close to me and thankfully not asking any fucking questions.

At the end of the alley I stop in the shadow of a streetlight, peering round a low wall that is littered with empty Carlsberg cans and cigarette ends. I scan the street in front of me, but there is no one around except a stray tabby that streaks across the road and comes to rest underneath a parked car, its eyes lit up like luminous marbles as it watches us make our way swiftly along the pavement. I can see the tube station up ahead, its signage illuminated and its metal shutter still up. I race towards it, Chloe's feet pounding on the tarmac behind me, and then slow down abruptly about four feet from the entrance. The change in speed obviousy takes her by surprise because she stumbles into my back with a muffled grunt, and I turn around furiously.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"Wha - I didn't know you were going to stop!" she protests.

"Well start paying attention," I snap, readjusting my holdall on my shoulders and glaring at her. I know it isn't really her fault that she bumped into me, and I half expect her to return the frown and snap back, but instead she averts her eyes like a frightened little mouse and mutters an apology.

We are lingering too long in plain sight, so with a roll of my eyes I turn away and stride into the foyer of the station, past the empty ticket barrier before descending the dirty steps to the platform just as the rush of warm wind comes billowing out of the tunnel, indicating the imminent arrival of the next train. I feel self-conscious and exposed under the harsh, fluorescent lights above the platform, and quickly turn my face to the ground as the train pulls into the station, to avoid eye contact with anyone.

The train is almost empty, as you would expect at this time of night, and I pick a deserted carriage and take the seat next to the door. Chloe follows and is about to sit next to me when I give her a fierce look, which seems to change her mind. Instead she perches opposite me and stares nervously at the underground map above my head as the train jolts into motion and glides out of the station.

I close my eyes, making the most of the silence and the thinking time, trying to work out a plan that will see me through to the morning and guarantee my escape to safety.

"Where are we going?"

I grit my teeth and open my eyes to see Chloe looking at me with apprehension. She is permanently wide-eyed, and I can't figure out if she just has big eyes, or if she is jittery and afraid all of the time. If the latter is correct, she must be exhausted from being on tenterhooks her whole life.

"I don't know," I answer shortly, and there is a couple of seconds of silence while she looks at me, clearly expecting me to elaborate. I close my eyes again, to indicate that this is my final answer and that questions are not welcome.

"Where is this train going?"

I open my eyes again and glower at her. "Can't you fucking read? There's a map above my head that you've just been fucking looking at."

She quickly looks away from me and down at the floor. "Sorry."

I close my eyes again, my mind racing. I know there is a derelict goods yard a couple of stops away that would serve as shelter for tonight, but will the police already have checked it? They could be on their way there now, or they could turn up while I am there. My options are fast running out, and with no other ideas I am resigned to this half-baked plan that will get me as far as the morning if I am lucky. All I can do is hope for the best and be prepared to run at the first sight of blue lights. As the train slows down on its approach to my destination I get up out of my seat. Chloe jumps at the movement and looks up at me expectantly. I am tempted to leave her here but her threat to expose me if caught flashes through my mind, and it is with reluctance that I mutter, "Next stop."

She gets to her feet, a look of relief passing over her face as she slings her rucksack onto her back and comes to stand next to me, holding on to the overhead rail and waiting for the train to stop. When the doors open with a hiss, I step out onto the brightly lit platform and take the stairs two at a time up to the road. As I pass through the exit someone is waiting to close the metal shutters behind me, and I keep my chin tucked to my chestand my face in shadow as I turn left onto the street and stride away into the night.

Chloe is now half-running to keep up with me, but she says nothing as I cut across a main road, across a large empty market square, past a multi storey car park and down a ginnel towards the yard. I step over various pieces of litter: broken bottles, empty chip wrappers, rusty old cans and numerous cigarette butts, and skirt around the edge of the yard to the metal portacabin in one corner. Its door is missing and the inside is filthy, but it will do for somewhere to sleep tonight, until I can figure out where to go in the morning once the trains are running again.

"I'm staying here tonight," I mutter to Chloe. "Give me time to think."

"And then what...?" she asks timidly, watching me as I sit down on the floor and prop my holdall behind my back as a cushion.

"And then, I'll let you know," I snap.

"Don't leave without me," she begs, and I look up to observe that terrified expression that seems to be permanently etched on her face.

I would love nothing more than to sneak away while she is asleep, and never have to look into those pathetic puppy dog eyes ever again. But for now I have no choice. If I want to avoid the police, I need her to keep quiet. And all the time she is under my nose I have a better chance of keeping her under control.

I stare at her for a moment, wondering what her fucking problem is, and why she is so scared of everything. And then I realise I really don't fucking care. I just need to sleep.

I shrug. "Whatever. I'll work out a plan in the morning."

I lean back against my bag and close my eyes, indicating that the conversation really is now closed. She must finally have learned how to take a hint because a second later I hear her scuffling around on the floor in the opposite corner before silence descends, bringing with it sleep.