Exhausted, Kusa flopped down onto a seat, stretching her legs out and pressing her back as far into the thin padding as she could. “Ahhh…” she let out a sigh, feeling her muscles begin to unclench. Every atom of her body vibrated from the stress and exertion of the last hour. “That was too damned close.”

She looked down the length of the car; it was nearly empty. Only eight or ten other people were scattered across the bench-seats lining the walls. She allowed herself the luxury of relaxing her guard.

A speaker directly overhead burst into life, startling her. “Attention, please,” a somewhat distorted male voice said.

In the same instant, Kusa realized something. “Huh? Wait, did we… stop?” That made no sense; the train just barely began to move right after she boarded. She turned her gaze upwards towards the speaker.

“Attention, please,” the announcer repeated before continuing: “Departure will be delayed for several minutes due to a disturbance on the tracks.”

“No!” Kusa leapt to her feet, worry and confusion spreading across her features. “They wouldn’t!”

“We apologize for any inconvenience,” the announcer finished.

“Fat lot of good that does me!” the girl snarled at the speaker.

Kusa climbed up onto the seat, kneeling on the hard surface to get a look out of the window.

Outside, on the platform she just managed to escape from, a pair of station attendants held Baldy in place as a police officer first relieved him of a compact manaccelerator then slipped handcuffs around his wrists in its place. It was a welcome sight, but Kusa wasn’t fooled. These men wouldn’t sacrifice one of their own for nothing.

Her head swiveled, trying to spot the other two, Slick and the Boss. So far as she could tell, they weren’t among the crowd, most of whom were absorbed in the drama of Baldy’s arrest. After several seconds’ frantic searching, she was about to let herself believe it was over, after all – that with the police involved, they gave up and retreated. Then she spotted them: the pair were at the far end of the platform, right at the very edge of the loading area, climbing into one of the cars ahead of where Kusa sat.

“No! Come on!” she slammed her fist against the thick glass of the window, producing a hollow thump. A pair of women several seats away put their heads together and murmured to each other, competing to see who could give the girl the more withering look. Kusa wasn’t even aware they existed. “It’s not fair!” Kusa moaned. “I got away!”

Forgetting propriety or anonymity, ignoring the looks and muttering of the other passengers, the girl leapt from her seat and ran down the aisle towards the door to the next car. She passed the disdainful women, entirely unaware of their annoyance; then a sleeping man; a man reading a newspaper, accompanied by a small boy and others even less memorable. Only the two women and the little boy paid her any open attention, but she knew they would all remember her, either as a lunatic talking to herself or a troublemaker disturbing their peaceful commute for no good reason.

Whatever. It didn’t matter now.

Kusa yanked the sliding door at the end of the car open. Before she could step over to the next car, though, something tickled the base of her neck and made her look back. At the opposite end of the car, like a mirror of her own actions, Slick was opening the connecting door from the next car up. Kusa slammed her own door closed. She hesitated, then stepped back as far as she could, lifted one sneakered foot up and brought her heel down in a hammering axe-kick that snapped the outer door handle cleanly off with a muted thunk! It might buy her seconds or it might not make any difference at all, but she had to do something. There were only so many cars and she could only run so far. She ducked through the door at her back and started running again.