Blood is Thicker

Your lungs burn and your legs ache as you and Boogie sprint through the narrow, garbage-strewn alleys of East Austin. The wail of sirens is a constant, piercing shriek, growing louder, closer. Panic gnaws at you, a cold, heavy stone in your gut. This was supposed to be simple, a quick 'drop' and then you'd both be free. But the cops were waiting. Someone talked.

Boogie pants beside you, his face a mask of fear and exertion. He doesn't know the half of it, the real reason this went sideways. But you do. And the knowledge is a bitter poison.

Ahead, the sounds of a protest grow louder, a chaotic swell of chanting voices. It's your planned meeting point, a place to disappear into the crowd. Ten more minutes and you were supposed to split – him one way, you the other. To a different future. To him.