I followed closely behind Cana. She rounded the corner of the building. Then she turned left. I chased after her till I found myself in a narrow back alley. It was empty. We've only encountered this one homeless man and his dog sleeping besides the stairs of a back exit to a hotel.

  Far in front, out in the street, I've heard police sirens wailing in the distance. Cana ducked behind a metal dumpster. I crouched beside her. She peered through the side.

  We waited in silence.

  Suddenly, the scene of me shooting that cultist in the leg flashed. The gunshot was still ringing in my ear as if I've just pulled the trigger right at this moment. I looked at my hands, they've started shaking.

  "I've just shot someone..." I thought.

  A police car zoomed by.

  We can't let those police see us. Them being a cultist is the least of my problem. I just shot a guy out in street. Someone saw that and called the police. But I didn't see anyone at the street on either side at the time. Then again, I didn't really have enough time to get a good look. Maybe because the barrage of bullets cleared the streets of unwanted bystanders?

  Or maybe the caller was inside their homes, up by the window of their second floor? Even if the police responding are not the cultists, I might go to jail. Or spend the day being interrogated. I'd be on the news no doubt, my location exposed to the real cultists.

  Whatever the case, we should avoid the police as much possible.

  I looked back at the homeless man again, somehow convinced that he's a cultist pretending to be asleep, waiting for us to drop our guards so he can shoot us in the head.

  But he and his dog just kept snoring.

  This is bad, I thought. I'm starting to get paranoid. It's starting to get harder to breathe. I focused my mind on one thing at a time. I looked at Cana again. She went back to watching the streets, waiting for the cops to pass us by. Her hair spilling all over her shoulders.

  My hand instinctively made a grab at my head.

  Our caps. I thought. With all that was happening, keeping the cap on was the last thing on my mind. We've lost the most vital piece of our disguise. I thought about going back there but quickly dismissed the idea simply because it was stupid and was literally suicide.

  I only have with me were this leather journal and this amulet with the zodiac symbols on it which I absentmindedly put in my pockets when that cultist gave them to me.

  I scan our surroundings again. But there was only trash and this dumpster here. No, not only. My eyes landed on the sleeping homeless person again. I didn't see it before but just above his head was a battered baseball cap.

  Another police car zoomed by.

  Cana started to get up.

  I grabbed her hand. "Wait," I whispered. "There's probably more."

  She sat back down again, keeping her eyes on the streets.

  I crouched forward to the homeless guy's position, staying low as close to the wall as possible. I stopped right in front of the dog. The homeless guy. Then the cap. I've heard sirens again. They were getting louder now. So I pressed my back hard against the wall. I looked down Cana's direction. She had her back on the side of the dumpster now, completely hidden from the streets, facing me. From the looks of her face, she wasn't happy.

  One car zoomed pass. Then another. I held my breath as I listened to the sirens gradually getting weaker and weaker. Convinced they were far away, I stood up, picked up the cap and crouched back to her.

  "What the hell were you doing!?" she whispered but clearly irritated. I think she would have loved to scold me right now but she just couldn't do that without the risk of giving away our position.

  "I picked this up for you," I said, presenting her my loot. It was dirty so I dust it off by beating it against my thigh. "I know, it doesn't smell of strawberries but you should wear it. You're too expose with your hair like that."

  "Thanks..." She said in a low voice. I didn't hear any irritation in her voice now. She put her hair up in a messy ball and I put the cap on her, securing her hair in place. "What about you?"

  "I guess..." I said, looking around again. But there really isn't anything we can use here. I thought of putting the trash bag on my head to hide my face but I have a feeling that that will get me more attention. "I'll be extra quiet," I finally said.

  "Not good enough," she said.

  Thunder crackled in the sky.

  A single raindrop hit the asphalt. Then another. Soon, the light drizzle turned into a normal rain.

  "I've got an idea," Cana said. Then she removed her university jacket and spread it over our heads.

  Another police car zoomed by.

  "If we go now, there's still the chance of running into another police car," I said.

  "But we can't hide here any longer," she said.

  "Yeah," I agreed. Time is running out. Some of the police might be over there now, investigating. If action movies are to be believed, then it wouldn't be long now till they start widening their search. It wouldn't take them long to find us here. But now that we are not as expose earlier, maybe, just maybe, we can get away."

  "Risk it?" She said, after we spent a minute thinking.

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  "Risk it." I agreed.

  "But where do we go?" she asked.

  "We'll figure it out," I said. "But for now, let's just move."

  So we stood up. Each of us holding opposite ends of her jacket above our head, shielding us from the rain and from being spotted.

  We ran at a moderate pace. Not too fast to make it obvious that we were running away from something but just fast enough to make it look like we were just looking for a place to take shelter from the rain.

  We caught up with a man in blue undershirt who was also running. He was carrying a plastic bag, his other hand on his head. He probably was out on errand, obviously not aware of what had happen several streets over.

  We stopped when a black cat blocked our path. We watched it cross the street and disappear into another alley. Here, it is believed that seeing a black cat is a sign of bad luck. But so far, no one paid us any attention. There was a small variety store on our left. A woman was at the counter. The owner maybe? But she didn't even bother raising her head up from her phone so I thought that maybe that black is just a black cat.

  A couple of houses and a convenience store after, we hit the curb of the sidewalk and the street opened up to left, right and straight. Cana looked at me and motioned her head to the right, across the street.

  We stepped down the curb. Our shoes splashing against the puddle of water that was starting to build up. We made a left after and hit the next fork in the street. There were more people here. The sidewalk was getting crowded enough that we couldn't run anymore.

  At a distance, we saw a police car again closing fast. I froze momentarily. Then I quickly draped my arm over Cana and pulled her close to me. She let me angle our bodies so that we were facing the shops on our side of the street. We let the steady stream of students and employees carry us.

  We were hidden under her jacket, among this sea of people. And the way we've angled ourselves, there is no way we could have been spotted from the street. Right?

  But the police car came closer, and finally parked behind us.

  We exchanged a look. We didn't say a word but we both know what the other was thinking. Were we spotted?

  We kept moving forward. I wanted to run. Because the crowd hasn't picked up the pace.

  "Hey," Cana said pointing at a clock through the window in a Tapsilugan. The clock reads 12:22. "It's lunchtime."

  I held my breath and dared to look back. But through the reflection on the mirror of a coffee shop behind us, I saw the police stepped out of his car and entered the coffee shop. I exhaled and removed my arm over her.

  She put her hand over her chest. "I don't think I can handle anymore of that."

  I kept my eyes on her. She was shivering. From the cold or from that close encounter, I don't know. Maybe from both. Seeing her like this reminded me about how she always comforted me during the first few days of our stay in Biringan, during our first brush with death, of losing the friends we've made in front of us to the Shade.

  I thought of returning the favor now but I don't know what to do or say so I only did the first thing that came to mind.

  I offered my hand up, my fingers facing upwards. She looked at my hand. Then to my face. She interlaced her fingers with mine, squeezing hard before finally relaxing.

  My brain was on high alert so I keep picking up the smallest things, like how soft and warm her hands are, and how they feel comfortable in mine.

  I kept my head down as we continue walking, only occasional taking a peek at our surroundings to try and figure out where we are. But all the food stalls and bakeries, the entire stretch of a university, and houses whose first floor was turned into a cafeteria or a photocopying center we've passed by gave me some reassurance. I know this place. We were nearing city hall if we just followed this path.

  We kept waddling with the crowd. We turned left, exiting through a stone arch. We walked till we stepped up to the sideway with a covered walkway. People in front of us were folding their umbrellas.

  "We should drop this," I said, tugging the jacket we were holding up.

  Now that we have a roof over our head, we don't need the jacket anymore. It would definitely be weird if we keep holding it up.

  She shook her head. "Let's keep it up for a bit."

  Obviously, we were both scared and the jacket provided us not just cover, but some sort of comfort, like how hiding under a blanket after watching a scary movie made me like the monster wouldn't get to me when I was a kid.

  So I was ready to convince her that it was a bad idea, that it might get us unnecessary attention. But instead, I take a quick look around from under the jacket.

  The place was packed with people. Below the sidewalk were tricycle drivers, outshouting each other to get passengers. There were also vendors with their ice coolers containing their merchandise of bottled water and soft drinks. Another was selling various snacks and biscuits arranged on a Styrofoam cover he used as a table which he suspended on his shoulders with black straps and hooks.

  And it was noticeable that the flow sped up. Everyone here was just in a hurry to get to somewhere or sell their goods. So I doubted that anyone would pay attention to two students hiding behind a jacket under a covered walkway.

  The wave of crowded started dispersing. Some went to the underpass leading out to the opposite side of the main road. Some went to stepped up the back of the jeepneys parked to the loading/unloading zone in front of us.

  "Down," Cana said.

  We don't have money with us so we can't ride the jeep. Not that we have a destination in mind, anyway. We could keep walking. But we can't keep pushing our luck like this. That close encounter earlier was already too much. We need to hide. So down is really the best option we have.

  We descended the dark-tiled stairs. Even though it's wet, it's not that slippery. The stair walls were painted with colorful murals and advertisements. Vertical gardens were also installed, adding a refreshing green to the place.

  Now that we are hidden below the ground, Cana finally decided that it was safe enough without the jacket. The place was so incredible that we momentarily stopped. The ceiling above us had a modern design. Fluorescent lights giving off yellowish glow were scattered asymmetrically along the exposed wooden beam. The walls had backlit artworks on them. Each mural depicted a significant event in history or a famous landmark of the city. The murals down here had the same lightning effect that you would see in a museum. For the last couple of weeks, our minds only had room for the Shade, the cult, and on surviving every night that I forgot how beautiful this place was. It took my mind off of being killed, at least for a bit.

  Still holding Cana's hand, we continued forward.

  Pass the Bastillio Cathedral mural, there was a stairs leading up at the exact center of the underground pass. Cana looked at me and motioned her head up.

  "It's another jeepney terminal," I said.

  "Oh."

  We continued walking. When we reach the end of the underpass, the stairs leading up were split into two. The signage on the left said "THIS WAY TO BASTILLO MALL. The signage to the right reads: "THIS WAY TO BASTILLIO CITY HALL."

  Cana slid her hand off mine. That made me look.

  "Where to?" Cana asked. She put her hand on her chest again. She was out of breath. We didn't even run. Maybe the adrenaline is wearing off. I don't feel particularly tired myself but I can't afford to wait before my body decides to cut off the supply. This changes our goal of figuring out where we are to finding a place to rest.

  I placed my hand over my heart too. My heart has been sprinting since this morning. This prolonged, state of stress can't be good. And we're cold. We need a place to breathe, to recollect our thought, to process what just happened and plan our next move before it hits us fully out of nowhere. It can't be just any place either. It should be someplace where students like us won't stand out. Of course, we don't have any money so it has to be a public place but still offers some privacy.

  We have no business going to the City Hall so we only have one choice.

  I looked around and saw that no one was stopping near us. "Hey," I said. "You've ever been to Timezone?"

  Cana looked at me. Her eyebrow was raised. "Is now really the best time to play arcades?"

  "It's the only place I can think of that's free and with lots of students," I said. "I was thinking maybe we can hide in one of the booths there."

  "Sounds good," Cana huffed. "I could use the breather."