We rounded yet another corner, our best efforts to continue faltering as we succumbed to exhaustion. Spotting a small row of steps, I grabbed hold of the handrail to regain my breath, scraping aside leaves and cigarette butts with my swollen foot to clear a seat.
I offered it to her and she didn’t refuse, slumping onto the filthy stair with a stomach turning squelch. Neither of us able to hold eye contact as we took stock, each calculating how long we had been trapped and how long she had left to live.
I overestimated. She did not.
‘The blood… It tastes like… copper…’ She said as her existence drained.
Behind us a light buzzed into life. The steps led to a bridge, a way out. I left her there, her game was over. For me it was just the beginning of the next level.