Chapter 3

   I ran through the sewer, ignoring the smell and doing my best to avoid splashing. I just knew my boots were ruined: I had never planned on mucking about under the streets of Cambridge. I pulled out my torch, flicked it on, and dug through my pocket for my map.
   Remembering that the pickup had only been a few blocks from the harbour, I planned to make my way there, as the sea harbour had been mostly abandoned as shipping on the sea had become obsolete with the invention of the airship, with only a few factories and shipping companies still operating, as the Estovakians still preferred sending heavy freight over sea. I figured I could find an abandoned warehouse or something and get out of the sewer. I took out my compass, noted my heading, and started through the sewer toward the harbour.
   I made it less than a hundred yards, and around a couple of bends, when I heard the telltale bang of a sewer grate opening. I quickly stowed the map and compass in the satchel, and, throwing caution and stealth to the wind, began to run for it. I heard shouts and splashes from behind me: they were coming. I started taking side tunnels and offshoots, always sure to keep heading south, to the harbour.
My lungs were burning from the exertion, and my heart threatening to burst from my chest when I turned a corner and saw bright daylight streaming from a hole in the ceiling, where the street above had collapsed from lack of maintenance. I must be in the harbour by now, judging from the obvious damage in front of me. Unlike the Aeroport in the center of the city, the old seaport was filled with factories and warehouses. It was through one of these that I planned to make my escape.
   I scrambled up the rubble and out onto the street, with the soldiers right behind me. I figured I had about five seconds to get out of sight. Cursing, I pulled my goggles down over my eyes so the tint would allow me to see in the sudden bright sunlight. I turned, and saw my exit: a steel door to a warehouse, partially ajar. I ran for it, and carefully shut the door behind me. I finally stopped and allowed myself a few moments to breathe.
   As soon as the adrenaline wore off, I could feel myself wanting to cry. Sigur had been a good friend of mine. I allowed myself a few minutes of rest, to try and force the tears back, before I began to move through the warehouse. I needed to find a way to the roof.
   I pulled out my crowbar and forced open the first door I came to. An office. Damn. I kept on down the hall, checking all the doors for a stairwell. Through the row of dusty windows on my right, I could see light filtering into the warehouse from up high. I wiped away the dust, and looked around. I could see a hole in the roof, with a stack of crates stacked nearby. That could work. Covering my eyes, I smashed the window with my bar, cleaned the glass out of the frame, and leaped through. Just as I heard the door to the warehouse from outside bang open. I began to run.