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Liz was more resigned then scared.

If Kimberly wanted to kill her, she would have done it a while ago. If Kimberly wanted to torture her--well, hopefully she would have said so. She seemed like the kind of person who would say so. There was nothing Kimberly could do, other than killing her or putting her through more incredible pain, that Liz could possibly be scared of. If Kimberly wanted to talk her ear off, she could go ahead. It didn't make Liz any deader.

It's just delays.

So Liz stood up. Slowly. Wearily. God, her bones ached. She felt like an old person. Immediately her mind started pulsing ways to build up her adrenaline, get her feeling unnaturally healthy again. Ready to run.

Don't be crazy. You can't run.

Nah. Whatever tweaked revenge-alternative Kimberly had planned for her, she was pretty much gonna take it.

Just delays. Till you can break more cameras. Fuck--fuck the terrorists up more. If they're going to take Mr. Kwong, they're going to play a losing game.

Yeah. Losing game.

She stumbled. Her legs could hardly hold up under her. She didn't' know if it was the burn or the sleep that weakened her so much. Whatever it was, it didn't seem repeatable. Dying is a funny thing…

Shook her head. She wasn't going to think about dying yet. Too much to do.

And now there was Kimberly, Kimberly here, holding her up on her stumbling legs like a friend. Walking with her, mocking smile, leading her somewhere deeper into the cave. Wherever Kimberly was going, Liz was going to go. Helplessness was a sick relief, in a way. Suddenly she didn't have to hold herself up.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Keep going.
--------


Alice Boucher was a liar.
Liz Polanski played with fire.

And who the hell is Radio Asuka?
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Blackout · The Tunnels