My lungs burn. My throat burns. My thighs and calves burn. Summer’s inferno reflected in my body. But I’m close. He’s clearly in view. And there’re no crowds now. No comforting anonymous masses for him to melt into. It’s him and me. He can’t lose me.
From somewhere ahead, traffic roars: a major junction. As I run, the junction grows larger, brighter, louder. And Hoodie’s lead shrinks, growing smaller all the while.
He flings another look behind him, sees me closer, ever closer, gaining on him.
The junction is a five-cornered monster, bringing in trucks and wagons, long-vehicled eighteen-wheelers with their night-time deliveries into the City. Saloons, station-wagons and 4x4s accompany them, delivering families, commuters and shoppers. Stop-Go lights flicker red and green, staying and r
