The lines of traffic flow like blood through veins, trailing red light smears. I watch them ... pass.
Arriving at the control point, captured. We're lead into a glass-walled room, scared and trembling as the stern lady arrives with her clip-board. She reads names, and the Zyclon-B prussic acid gas lies but a tender-embrace beyond.
Her attention diverted and I reach for the out-size metal safe-lock mechanism on the glass wall behind. Spinning and spinning a glass door reveal opens and I run out.
A long corridor.
Running in blind panic, terrified by the pursuer behind. But proud. I'm broken free.
The dead-end reached. A brittle wooden-wall and the pursuer closes fast behind now. I feel her every breathe on the back of my neck, calling me back. I smash through and tread a path between shattered glass-optic glinting kaleidoscopic shards and up to the ramp.
Black smoke pluming. All this way just to die? The black plumes give way to white-fleck steam clouds and it's out into cool night air where ....
The lines of traffic flow like blood through veins, trailing red light smears. And I chase after them ... flying free!!!!!
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