They had walked through the hustle and bustle of downtown for a good half hour. Again and again they had hidden for a few moments in alcoves and doorways, trying not to be seen by the patrol cars that had been moving toward the center with their lights flashing for some time. The mass fight and the dead man had caused enough of a stir to alert the police. Under no circumstances could they fall into their hands, or all would be lost. None of them had enough money to buy their way out of prison. Sergey figured that the officers already had a description of him and his companion. After all, enough people had seen his fight and the fatal blow with the axe.

"Over here!" the girl gasped, pointing to the wide pier of a gray railroad bridge that crossed the main road. "Let's run over there."

"If you say so..." Sergey gasped in agreement. He desperately hoped to get a chance to rest soon. His overstretched foot burned like hell and he bit his lips hard as he ran. He should have given the injury more time to heal. At least his ankle was bandaged in his boot, but of course he hadn't expected a long run at the beginning of his journey. When they reached the bridge pier and were halfway around it, Sergey spotted a rusty ladder on the back, secured with thick bolts.

"Hurry, we have to get up there," the girl hissed, pointing her head at the ladder. Sergey looked up and saw an iron flap at the bottom of the stairs.

"You first," he replied curtly, letting go of the girl's leash that he had been holding. It had been a strange feeling to lead her around by that leash. The girl nodded hastily and immediately began to climb. The ladder wobbled and creaked in a way that did not inspire confidence. Many of the metal screws in the concrete of the pillar had loosened over time, and the structure made more crunching noises under the pressure. Nevertheless, she continued to make her way up, undaunted and fearless. It must have been a good seven or eight meters to the hatch. Sergey watched her and then climbed up the struts himself, following her and trying not to look down. He knew he was afraid of heights and hoped with all his heart that the combination of effort and pain would not make him vomit. A few passersby looked up at them in amazement, but kept walking. Suddenly the police sirens sounded again and Sergey's hands tightened around the ladder. Here they hung for the officers as if on a platter. Mechanically, he climbed after the girl until she suddenly stopped. He heard her lean against the metal flap, something scraping, and suddenly a rusty bolt fell from above, hitting his left shoulder, just above his head.

"Sorry," the girl above said, continuing to climb as she pushed the flap up with one hand with a groan and disappeared into the bridge. Once inside, she pulled the flap all the way open and gestured for Sergey to do the same. He climbed into the hollow as well, and the girl quickly closed the flap behind him. It was now completely dark, except for a few rays of light from below, and much warmer than outside. He straightened up carefully and was able to stand in the room. Then he heard what seemed to be her crawling around on the floor, looking for something.

"What is this place?" he asked quietly, as if expecting them to be discovered in this hole at any moment.

"I don't know," she replied curtly in a hushed voice. "This place has always been here. Could be a maintenance storeroom? Never noticed any tools or workers ever being here, though." Then he clearly heard her shake a box of matches she must have found on the floor. Seconds later, a flame ignited, illuminating the darkness with its small light. Kneeling, the girl looked around, saw a thick, greasy candle, and lit it. And then another, and another. Eventually, four candles were burning, and there were many more in a pile against the wall. The room was about three by three meters and two meters high. On the floor was an old mattress, a sleeping bag, and two blankets. Next to the candles on the wall were five cans of fish and beans, as far as he could read the labels, and a few bottles of clear liquid.

"You... aren't here for the first time?" Sergey asked nervously, more to keep the communication going with her and to reassure himself. She just smiled and slowly unfolded the blankets to check for bugs. Except for two small spiders, which Sergey quickly squashed, they were luckily alone in this cave.

"There are many places like this in the city," she began to explain quietly. "You can't tell anyone that I brought you here."

"All right," he said affirmatively. "That's easy, I don't know anyone here. Except... My brother." He cleared his throat.

"You're looking for him, aren't you?" the girl said. "That's why you came to town. You don't live here, I can see it in your face and hear it in your voice," she said, still smiling as she sat down on the mattress in front of him and wrapped herself in one of the blankets. He just nodded. "Do you have any idea where he is?" she asked.

"I hope to find him in the barracks. He's a soldier. Is... or was..." he replied hesitantly, wiping the hair from his face. "It's a difficult story, maybe even dangerous. Maybe it's better I don't tell you too much, you're in enough danger as it is. My name is Sergey, by the way."

"That's okay, I understand. You're a good fighter, Sergey," she replied, grinning a little as she looked up at him. "Aksinya is my name." Now he was smiling too. The name, which meant *the hospitable one*, seemed to suit her well under the circumstances. Then she made a welcoming gesture and told him to sit on the mattress as well. He complied, first putting down his backpack and sitting across from her, then taking off his boot and massaging his bandaged foot. She watched him carefully, picked up one of the bottles, removed the cork and smelled it. Then she held the bottle out to him. "Would you like some water? There should be vodka in one of the others if you prefer," she explained. He nodded gratefully, took the bottle and drank. The water tasted, as expected, a bit stale and somehow chemically purified, but it served its purpose.

"Can you explain all this to me, Aksinya? Who was the man dragging you behind him? Why do you have that chain around your neck? Why did you want me to take it when we ran away?" he asked. She hesitantly reached for the metal ring around her neck and gave it a little twist.

"I've been wearing this thing for a few years now, ever since they took me away from my parents," she explained. It was only now that Sergey noticed how much it had affected the skin on her neck, scarred and abraded. There was a small but sturdy-looking padlock on the ring.

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"Wait a minute," he interrupted, opening his backpack and pulling out a small pocket knife. Then he slowly approached her and grabbed the ring. "Don't move..."

"What are you doing..." she asked in a thin voice, but let him go ahead, holding her breath. A little later, the shackle of the lock popped open and he threw it into the corner, carefully opening the metal ring and freeing her. Then he placed the ring and chain beside the mattress. His father had shown him early on how to open traps and locks with little help, and Sergey had great skill in such things. This lock had been no problem for him.

"Who are *they*? Who took you away from your parents?" Sergey asked quietly. She cleared her throat and began to speak.

"The *Eternal Wolves*, as they call themselves, one of the many big gangs here in the city. I was a slum dweller, from the poor neighborhoods on the northern edge of the city. We have no rights and no one to speak for us or stand up for us. Many of us are enslaved and trafficked. The police do very little about it because no one of any rank misses us. Besides, it's almost impossible to find anyone in this city who doesn't want to be found, or shouldn't be found anyway."

"Slavery really exists here?" Sergey gasped in disbelief. As already described, it was well known that conditions in the cities were getting worse and worse. But he had not expected it to come to this.

"Yeah. Didn't you know that?" she countered, and he just shook his head.

"And that guy I killed in self-defense, he was part of that gang too?"

"He was one of them too," she confirmed, running a hand through her shaggy hair. The more she calmed down and cleared her mind, the more her soft and pretty face came into view. Then she drank some of the water and rubbed her face with a handful of it.

"Good," Sergey replied curtly, grinning darkly. He had never killed a human before, but he felt no remorse. He hated the idea of slavery and could not imagine how anyone could do such a thing to another.

"After they kidnapped me, they put this thing on me to mark me as their property. And believe me, the ring is not as bad as other gang tags. .... You'll never get rid of those for the rest of your life. I wanted you to at least have the chain in your hand during our escape. If I walk around with it and don't have someone to lead me, the gang members will recognize me as an escapee," she explained.

"I think I understand," Sergey replied slowly. He could well imagine what would happen then.

"This hollow is one of the many hiding places of the Rats. That's what they call us in the slums. Rats, to rob us of our last dignity," she continued. He didn't know what to say. While he was still thinking of something, their hiding place suddenly began to shake. The shaking got stronger and Sergey was about to jump up and get ready to fight when she grabbed his forearm.

"Don't worry, it's just a train," she said so quietly that he could barely hear her. Then it rumbled and thundered above them, and when the rumble of the cars quickly subsided, she was still holding his forearm. "Thank you," she murmured softly, suddenly looking at him seriously. "Thank you for freeing me." He swallowed as their eyes locked. Her eyes... they were as blue, as bright and clear as the water of the streams back home, now that the effects of the drugs had finally worn off.

"I... um..." he stammered, embarrassed. She slowly pulled him towards her, moving closer to him at the same time. Her face approached his.

"Don't be shy. I have nothing else to give you," she whispered.

"You... don't have to..." he replied haltingly. He felt awkward, had little experience with women. How could he? Where he had grown up, distances were long and the only time you met other people was at the weekly market.

"I know I don't have to... and that's nice. Very nice, even..." she breathed into his mouth. Then she lowered herself to him completely, took his head, slid her lips, still wet from the water, over his, sucked him tenderly. At first he was spellbound, but then he closed his eyes, tasting her deeply and intimately, breathing in her slightly sweaty scent, which seemed delicious and exciting to him.

"You know how to kill, but you don't have much experience making love?" she whispered teasingly in his ear. He blushed slightly as his body shivered at her touch. When she finally took his cool hands and slipped them under her top to warm them on her soft skin, he felt a power and desire he had never known before. They quickly undressed each other, interrupted by passionate kisses as their mouths met hungrily to taste each other again. As he lay stretched out on the mattress and she slowly slid on top of him under the blankets, they finally forgot everything around them, forgot the bridge they were in, the city, the fear and the past. In that moment there was only the two of them, intertwined and clinging to each other in the flickering light of the candles. He followed her rhythm on the path they walked together, enjoying her heavy breath on him until they finally reached their destination and she cried into him, deeper than the light of the setting sun could ever touch his innermost being. So she lay on top of him, holding him tight. Her feet dug into his legs, her firm thighs wrapped around his pelvis.

"Aksinya," he breathed her name and tried to move a little. She didn't let him and immediately tensed her muscles to hold him in a tight embrace.

"Tomorrow. Tomorrow we go on. Not until tomorrow," she said in a hushed voice.

"Y-yes..." he replied with a smile, enjoying every second of this captivity.

"Tonight you are mine. Understand?" she murmured as her lips nibbled along his neck and her hair fell across his face. Her tone was playfully assertive as she did so. With a serious undertone, she added, "...because nothing has ever belonged to me before."

"I'm not running away, absolutely not," he promised, groaning slightly as she turned back to his neck and continued her work there.

"All right, I'll take your word for it. Tomorrow. Not until tomorrow..." she replied, muttering contentedly. Running away was the last thing he wanted to do right now. Even if he had imagined his trip to the city quite differently.