Sanctuary. She found it down a back alley.
Dark, dank, hidden – perfect to avoid the swarms of law enforcement. But she didn’t have forever.
She propped the dead weight up against the rotting fence. She heard his shallow breathing, watched as the red stain spread across his white hoodie.
Desperate for a plan, but the alarms drowned out all thought. Truth was, she was kidding herself. The choice was already clear.
She grabbed the duffle stuffed with small crumpled bills and gave him a peck on the lips before sprinting off into the darkness.
Better him than me, she thought.
The Weekday One Hundred 