The elevator doors chimed as they slid open, revealing the almost empty parking lot. Isla pushed the wheelchair over the threshold, looking around for the  van.

   It screeched around the corner as soon as the elevator doors shut behind her. Coming to a halt directly in front of her, the van doors flew open and two large men jumped out, each one grabbing either side of the wheelchair where Damien sat, lifting him into the van.

   No one turned back for Isla, though, but she obediently followed suit, climbing into the van after Damien. Of course she could have ran, but they would have easily caught her, probably running her down with the van before she could get anywhere.

    Besides, she wouldn't be let off easy by the Commissioner now, not after she put Damien in the wheelchair with the intent of sneaking him out of the hospital. She had sealed her own fate, and the bad thing was-

    She liked it.

   She was degrading herself by joining them, but at the same time, she was uplifting her sense of adventure. She was becoming a dirty rat.

   But what made her think that they would actually let her live that long? As soon as Damien was well, they would surely kill her.

   She gasped in the back of the van. The sharp faced woman eyed her suspiciously, obviously wondering why Isla had so obediently returned to them.

    Isla didn't care. If she had to, she would play their game. She would rise to the top and take all of them out in the end. She wasn't going to be evil, she wasn't a murder.

   Then it wouldn't be his game; it would be hers..

The End

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