Perfect. Let's give them a nice big target, shall we? She thought. Her eye suddenly caught the steel door she and chad had so graciously liberated from its hinges, lying on the floor so ungratefully. "Twitch, can you lift that?"
The boy rushed over and gave it a tug. "Nope."
Dangit. "Well..." Amber looked at the ceiling, simultaneously exasperated and full of adrenaline. "Looks like we've only got one option then."
Twitch looked up at her, clearly petrified. His shaggy black hair was matted with sweat and plastered against his face -- the blood-and-mud-stained shirt that was his trademark clung to his body from moisture as well. Despite his raggedy appearance, Amber still got the feeling that he was too adorable to die.
Heavy footsteps continued to get closer.
Amber walked over to him and kissed him on the forehead. Then she placed her eyebrows against his. "Whatever happens, we're gonna get out of here and live a great life, alright?"
He looked incredulously into her eyes for a moment, then nodded.
"We're gonna live in a real house, with air conditioning in the summer and heat in the winter. We'll buy those electric guitars we always wanted and start a band. Every night, we'll eat hot meals, wear fresh clothes, and be hundreds of miles away from this shithole." Amber started to cry again, despite herself. "We'll grow old, marry the loves of our lives, and have kids... And feed them and buy them things just like the families on television. I swear to god we're gonna get out of here, and we're gonna be happy..."
The boy hoisted Chad's bag onto Amber's opposite shoulder, and nodded. "Damn, girl. Cut that corny stuff. I'm getting more scared of death by the minute without your stuff, y'know?"
Amber wiped the tears out of her ski mask and took a deep breath. "Okay, does the alleyway go all through to the loading bay, or does it just go into a dead end?" She examined the door they were about to sprint through. The hallway was probably five feet across. She wondered if maybe she could get across before they got a shot off. Would they shoot?
Twitch rolled his eyes back, trying to recall the district's layout. "I'm not sure. I think it cuts left towards the other side of Herald's Square, y'know?" He popped his neck and looked up at Amber. "You think the cops will be around that way, too?"
"Let's hope not." Page. "We sprint on five. You open the door, I come behind with the bags. Got it?"
"Five." Page. "Four..." Page.
A voice from down the hallway rang out. "Hold on, guys; that door down there was ripped off its hinges."
Fuck it. "Let's go!" She sprinted.