Chapter 56
Spiker started mumbling as he limped along over the metallic floor, the red markers a seeming infinity apart. Over and over he repeated to himself, forming the words into a rhythmic mantra, moving his feet in time to: “Being chased, being chased, must keep going, being chased.”
And eventually, pitifully slowly, he would come to a junction and there, to welcome him, would be the vivid splash of red on floor or wall, showing the route to follow. When Hera had suggested he do such a thing, Spiker had been dubious but now, with his head ringing and his foot almost unbearably painful, he was glad he did not have to think, just blindly follow where they lead.
He found best speed could be maintained by hardly allowing his damaged and swelling right heel to touch the floor and with
