One x One |[18-18 and Fire]|

[Charisma.]

Riley was just as shocked when she heard sirens, as Mitch was. It was rather surprising, knowing she wasn't the one who'd called the cops- then who had? The question buzzed inside her head, and even rose a fear in her. What were the police here for? no one had called them- and if anyone had- who was it? Her fingers gripped the tree bark as the sirens got closer, and closer. Her heart seemed to beat faster and faster, right out of her chest, and her eyes darted back and forth, before she looked over her shoulder cautiously.

Before she could say anything else, Mitch was already leaving, running off. Great. Now it was just her. How could this day get any worse, she'd been running for hours from Mitch, been caught, almost killed moments ago, and now there were cops after them- or Mitch at least. She didn't even have any idea who had called the cops, the only things she'd noticed was the dark, broad figure running across the grass.

Her attention wandered over to where Mitchell had ran off to. He hadn't even bothered to cover his tracks and that made Riely a bit edgy. He always knew what to do in a situation like this- so why not now? Curiosity somehow took over, and after minutes, which seemed like hours of thinking and making sure no one was running, Riley followed. "Mitch?" she called, in a whisper. His tracks were right there in front of her, and to top it all off, it started to lightly rain soon after.

[Gene]

Mitch heard her quiet call only because he was already on edge and listening for any sound of pursuit. This kind was definitely not what he was expecting and caused him to pause in his mad dash against his better judgement. He could see her slim build through the trees, only a sillhouette at this point. He still had a chance to run. He could leave her behind and make it out easily, without being seen or suspected. Tracing back his steps even that far could mean distaster - it would be better for him to continue in his race.

But he turned around anyway. They were both fugitives now, it seemed. It would only be him had she stayed and explained to the police that she was an innocent person being tracked down, but the foolish girl had fled - perhaps not as fast as he had, but she had still done it. The police would be wary to trust her now, wouldn't believe her as well as they would have previously. She still had a choice, he thought. She could go back and claim she just wanted to see where he was going but had failed.

As he approached her, moving in the shadows of the trees so as not to be seen quite as easily, he decided to present her with this option. When he was about two yards away from her and in shadow, he spoke in a whispered voice, "You can still go back. Come with me and you'll be a suspect if they ever get your appearance."

[Charisma.]

Riley was finding it harder to trust herself now. She couldn't even believe that she had just left the opportunity to escape, to go after Mitch, the guy who had just tried to kill her moments ago. The person that had been after her since who knows when, the one she'd always been in a chase with. Now she wasn't quite sure what to do. It was all so confusing and her mind was racing, the sirens were loud, but she could only hear her heart beating.

When Mitch stepped towards her, she leaned against the tree she was standing by. Her muscles were tense, but her eyes were locked on him. They had little time and she had to decide what she was going to do. Mitchell could easily get away if he wanted too. Everything seemed to be pounding around her, the sirens were all the more pressuring.

"There's no point in going back now..." she started, looking up at Mitch. Why in the world had she even followed him? "We can't just stand around, they're going to catch up..." she added, suddenly hearing dogs barking. At this she sighed, looking a bit hopeless by this point. If they had dogs after them, then escaping would be harder for him than she'd thought.

[Gene]

Mitch nodded. She had just chosen her fate - perhaps not the best one out there. If he was in her place, he would have chosen to stay. He missed the time when he could walk around the streets innocently. And at this rate, he definitely wasn't going to heaven. No, he had killed far too many people for that.

"Fine. But if you slow me down, I'm not waiting," Mitch replied heartlessly. And with that, he turned and sprinted in the direction he was previously going in. Truthfully, he wasn't one hundred percent certain he could make it. He knew that practically nothing could fool or distract attack dogs or tracking dogs. Both were trained very carefully. He also knew, though, that the urine of a female dog in heat could have potential. But where was he going to get that?

He was positive that he could outrun the men. He could probably kill a few if necessary. But the dogs...If they were alive, then they stood little chance. He didn't bring any guns with him, though - he was armed with only daggers. But they were poisoned, he reasoned. So even if he wasn't able to throw a lethal blow, they would be dead within minutes and would be drastically weakened already - he was no amateur in the art of throwing knives.

"Keep running," he commanded Riley. His voice shook - not from worry or excitement, but just because of his bounding strides. "Meet me in front of that coffee shop at the far end of town. I'll be there in a little while. Half hour, tops. If I'm not there by then, I got caught."

[Charisma.]

At one moment Riley actually wanted to turn around but it was like something was holding her back. She was almost about to tell Mitch not to run, because if he did, the dogs would catch on to the noise easily. She didn't say anything. She followed. She knew it was probably the most idiotic thing anyone could do at this point. Because she had had time to stop, she'd caught her breath, therefore she had enough energy to run after him.

Riley already was running when Mitch told her to keep running. Her breathing was heavier and she was lightly panting, trying to catch some of her breath. There was distant barking that could be heard, and yelling, which were probably the cops.Slowing down, Riley skidded back, and took a breath of air, as Mitch told her where he was gonna be later. She was shaking her head slightly, not because she wasn't only agreeing with him, but also because she was still confused and a bit scared. Trying to figure everything out was enough. She knew where that coffee shop was, but now she was wondering if Mitch would be caught. Not that, that worried her, it was just that it was a mixture of worry, and frustration and fear all at the same time.

"Fine, fine" She sighed, sounding frustrated of course. "Just go. I'm not staying more than a half hour." she added the last part, frustration still ringing through her voice, before she slipped away and headed down the street. From light to light, shadow to shadow she made her way swiftly down the street. As soon as she reached the front wall of the coffee shop she stop and leaned up against it, her eyes looking above and ahead of her, and her chest heaving for breath. Slowly she slipped to the door, and made her way inside, making her way to the corner. By then she was already exhausted and didn't feel like going anywhere anytime soon. She simply slid back against the seat and leaned her elbows on the table, rested her palm against her forehead.

[Gene]

Mitch looked after her for a few moments before he mentally kicked himself. Why was he doing that? Whatever. Just don't do it again. He returned his attention to the approaching figures that he knew to be the dogs. The men, whose speed was no match for the dogs' and the trained assassin, were far behind and would see nothing. Mitch waited until the first dog (They were attacking dogs, he discovered, not tracking ones.), a German shepherd like the rest of them, was about ten yards from him. He quickly unsheathed one knife and threw it. That one stabbed him just a few inches from his heart. The close proximity to it would prove lethal within seconds. Sure enough, he hit the ground in a whimpering mass before falling silent. He felt guilty about killing such an innocent creature that was only doing its job, but it was either that or go to jail for attempted murder. They couldn't link him to any other murders, after all.

There were exactly three more dogs rushing at him and eleven more daggers for him to throw. The second dog was hit in the throat. It would have been a dead-on hit to the center of his chest had he not chosen that moment to trip over his feet. Weren't skilled dogs like that supposed to be flawless in everything they did, even when it was just a simple act of running? The next two dogs were very close to each other in progress and Mitch was forced to throw one knive immediately after the other. The first met its mark and the dog fell, but the last one, which had been rushed and therefore slightly innacurate, only just glanced over the dog's shoulder. It seemed to infuriate the dog more after he picked himself up from the ground.

But Mitch was already running. Sprinting perhaps faster than he ever had in his entire life. Now faced with being torn apart and then thrown in jail, he was doing his best to get to that coffee shop that would afford some protection. They would have to leave soon after - they'd have the bloodhounds after them quickly, especially after realizing their dogs were killed. The dog was gaining on him. Mitch became painfully aware of its wicked teeth. Three yards away, now. Two...one...

The dog's jaws clamped down on Mitch's arm, tearing at his unprotected flesh. Mitch fought desperately, but he made no progress. He could hear more shouts. The men must have found the first three bodies of their companions. That wasn't very far away - perhaps a quarter of a mile. It seemed like he still had some time left, but in this dog's grip he was unlikely to escape. But wait...Was the dog's bite weakening, just a little? Yes. The poison was beginning to take effect. Mitch reached around in a drastic attempt to grab another knife. It took several tries and more suffering, but he finally got one. He stabbed it viciously into the dog's chest, once again feeling terribly guilty when the dog whimpered and died. He took that knife out, shoved it into its proper place at his belt, and kept running.

His breathing was ragged, which was saying something, when he finally got to the coffee shop. He stayed outside for a few minutes, grabbing his arm tightly to keep the blood from spilling even more over his fingers. Mitch's chest was still heaving when he opened the door, stuck his head in, and searched for Riley. He found her in the corner and jerked his head in a gesture for her to follow him out.

[Charisma.]

It seemed like forever, like hours ago, even more, but it had only been about a half hour like Mitch had said. She still didn't know where he was, and by now her head was on top of her arm, her eyes looking sleepy and tired, exhausted. She was just minutes from falling asleep. Her mind wasn't where it should be, and she was thinking about what had happened a short while ago. A feeling of doubt came over her this time when she thought back. Like it was all her fault. Why had she even followed Mitch in the first place. Maybe she'd really gone crazy.

Lifting her head up again she looked down on her arm realizing that her arm was damp from a few tears. She didn't even know how those tears had gotten there, and was just so frustrated. Her eyes darted around and before she got up she noticed Mitch around the corner. She could see him outside by the window, and he had a death grip on his arm. Something seemed to be dripping from his arm, and she guessed it was probably blood. At least he wasn't dead.

Getting up, she quickly made her way to the door and stopped dead in her tracks. Her eyes darted to his arm and back. She didn't say anything at first due to the shock of what was in front of her. Suddenly anger, frustration and worry flooded over her at the same time and she lost it.
"What the hell did you do?! where did this....your arm is....what..." she stopped and shook her head, looking worried and frustrated all at the same time. Her eyes darted from his arm to his face, and back to his arm. "Oh why do I even ask..." she said half to herself and rolled her eyes.
"What now Mitch?" she questioned, looking at him, unsure of where they were going to go or what they were going to do now. Her eyes darted back to his arm. "Lemme guess, the dogs did it?" she jerked her head towards his arm and then looked up at him questioningly.

[Gene]

"Just follow me." Mitch didn't wait before he turned to walk down the street. In a quiet voice, he told her, "I figure we've got fifteen minutes max before they get the bloodhounds out, so we've got to find a place to hide." He was conscious of the many people staring very obviously at his bloody arm in anxiousness. He glared at as many as he could and they quickly averted their eyes. He walked faster when he noticed one man take out his cell phone.

He turned into an alley, worried that he would get too much attention out in the crowd. He noticed a man who was clearly passed out, drunk, a few yards in. He prodded him distastefully with his foot. The man did not respond. He was definitely in for a hangover the next day. Knowing that he had already lost more blood than he would have liked, he bent down and tore a strip of the man's shirt off and wrapped it tightly around his arm. It stemmed some of the flow, but he'd have to get it patched up soon.

When he reached the end of the alley, he noticed a fire escape leading up to the top floor in the building - a cheap motel. He climbed up it in an instant, knowing it could make the trail harder to follow. In the distance, he heard a dog barking and he walked even faster. He knew it wasn't the tracking dogs - the woofing he had heard was that of a small dog - but it made him even more nervous all the same.

The fire escape had many different exits, all at different levels, but he did not stop until he reached the top one. He entered the door that was in front of the fire escape. It led into the motel and, down the hall, elevators. He strode into one, punching a random number. Down, down, he went, until he came to a stop about three levels from the lobby. He exited when the metal doors slid open, entered a different one, then went back up two levels. He got off there and quickly went down the stairs that were near the elevators.

Why was he bringing Riley along? Why had he ever gone back to her and gave her a choice? Why didn't he just leave her? He couldn't bring her back to headquarters, where he needed to go to get his arm stitched up. That would get him fired and, since they assumed secrets could not be kept if you weren't a legit member of the society, he would end up being assassinated himself. He couldn't go to the hospital - that would waste time and there would be too many questions asked. "Do you have a place we can go?" he asked Riley, speaking for the first time in a while.

((Sorry about power-playing pretty much the entire time...I normally don't, it's just a little hard not to right now. :P I'll try not to do it as much.))

[Charisma.]

{Its ok, don't worry about it ^^}

With just a simple glare upon Mitch, and glance at his arm, Riley followed, saying nothing. If she did say something it would either be cursing under her breath or a sigh.Looking to the side she noticed many people staring at Mitch and his arm, and they would even stare at her, she would just roll her eyes or glare at them and continue following Mitch.

When noticing the drunken man, passed out on the side of the paved ground, Riley almost gasped, while wondering what in the world Mitch was doing. As soon as she realized he was reaching for the mans shirt, she already knew that he'd probably want it to cover his arm with. She hadn't heard any dogs barking, except for the shrill barking of a smaller dog. One which she was sure Mitch had heard as well.

Stopping behind Mitch Riley didn't say anything. She swayed back, then forth on her feet, while eying his bloody arm. At least some of the blood looked dry by now. Mitchel's question almost caught Riley off guard. Wasn't he the one who was supposed to know where to go and when? Wasn't he the one that was supposed to know all enters and exits?
"There is nowhere to go Mitch." she started, her mind set on the fact that there really was no place to go. This was of course, until she realized they could go to her place. As soon as she thought it up, she wished she hadn't, but she just couldn't help but suggest it.
".....We could go to my place" she said finally after a slight pause. "I'm the one who's supposed to be dead, they wont expect you to be at my house with me." she told him then looked quickly over her shoulder, then back at him. As soon as that last sentence left her mouth, Riley wondered why she had said it. Why was she all of a sudden deciding that it was okay for someone who had almost killed her, to come stay at her house?

[Gene]

Mitch nodded, accepting her suggestion. What the hell was he doing, though? Going to her house? Wasn't he trying to kill her just an hour or so ago? He could never bring himself to kill her now. If he wanted to go back to headquarters and she wanted to keep living, she'd have to go in to hiding. Dye her hair, change her name, move across the country - or, if possible, the world...It was equivalent to accepting help from the witness protection program. And, in a way, it was the same concept. If a colleague realized she wasn't really dead, Mitch would be killed and they'd go after her also. Except that the murderer would be offering her help.

"Lead the way. We'll have to leave soon after we get there. Just long enough to pack clothes and leave. Possibly tear your house apart, or they'll think you've gone with me when they notice things missing." Wow. That was harsh, even for him. 'Possibly tear your house apart'...Oh, yeah, that was a casual phrase. She was definitely going to agree to going with him now. Mitch never really had a home other than the small room he had at headquarters and his childhood house, but he could imagine what that would be like to her. After all, he was uprooted from his family when his parents were divorced. It couldn't be that different, could it?