Let me go.
You know I'm not one for leaving.
You know I'm nothing without your love

I can hear the sirens, I can hear the dogs barking and the police officers shouting urgently to each other as they climb into their squad cars, the flashing blue and red lights spinning and casting shadows of trees over our hunched bodies. We are hunkered down in a ditch, our eyes peeking out over the shelf of dirt, the smell of damp earth pungent and clinging to our skin. We are all finally outside, and we watch and wait as the police load up their cruisers, finally alerted to the escape that is in progress.

"Come on man, we got to roll." C-Note hurriedly whispers to Michael. We are all itching to start running, staring at the men who are hunting us is only making us more desperate to put as much distance between us and them as possible.

"We don't have to do anything but wait right here, and let them get ahead of us." Michael tells him.

"I don't know if we're going to get a chance Papi." Sucre murmurs and I look out through the branches of the trees to follow his eye-line, "Dogs."

"Coming right for us." Michael mutters under his breath, "Nobody move." We all stay completely still, our muscles tense and trembling in the cold. I hold my breath as the dogs are led by two police officers into the back of a truck where they are locked into cages.

"They can't smell us." Michael announces. Right on cue the dogs start barking menacingly and with such force that their cages shake.

"But they can see us!" Abruzzi is quick to point out as the policeman notice the raucous noise coming from the dogs, flicking their flashlights on to see what has caught their attention. We do not waste time, and instead we turn and sprint quickly through the trees. Our feet fall down heavily on the soft earth, and I am surprised at just how dark it is outside, my arms raised in front of me to protect my face from the branches and twigs that reach out to break my skin. I follow blindly, trying to keep my focus on the vague shapes of the other prisoners in front of me.

We eventually reach a barbed wire fence, Abruzzi stopping me short before I run into the twisted metal. I watch as the men duck beneath it, and I follow, Lincoln holding the wire out of place so we can all make it through without trouble. I start off into the dark night almost immediately, noticing a few guys lagging behind, but not wanting to waste any time when I can be putting distance between me and the prison.

"Ray!" I hear a shout in the distance and I glance over my shoulder, seeing Abruzzi coming up behind me.

"What?" I snap, "I don't want to fall behind!"

"You have to stay with me!" He hisses, coming up by my side and reaching out, finding my wrist in the dark. I grit my teeth, feeling his fingers grasping me securely, pushing ahead of me and dragging me along behind him as if I am a young child that might wander off .

"This isn't necessary" I call out to him as we run through the darkness.

"Yes, it is." He calls back. I can see a shed up ahead where the outlines of the rest of our group seem to have congregated, "I helped get you out, I'm keeping you out."

We come to a stop next to the rest of the group, Sucre appearing agitated, his eyes darting about in the dark as if searching for something. "Where the hell's the van?"

"Where the hell is the van?" C-Note reiterates. I look to Michael, whose smirk is visible in the pale light.

"Ye of little faith." He says smugly, before turning and searching the area, looking for signs of any life other than us. He hastily motions for us to follow him as he darts towards the shed. We follow suit, disappearing behind the large wooden walls and finding a blue van discreetly parked and out of sight. I grin, unable to contain my excitement with the adrenaline surging through my veins.

I move to climb into the back of the van with the rest of the guys, seeing T-Bag climb in, glancing back at me as I stand suspended in the doorway. I move instinctively to sit beside T, reaching out to steady myself. Suddenly there is a hand around my wrist and I turn in time to see Abruzzi coming up behind me, pulling me forcefully into the seat next to him, behind T-Bag.

"What did I tell you?" Abruzzi mutters under his breath as the rest of the men climb into the van, slamming the door shut behind us. I turn to face him, my mouth a straight line, and try my best to contain my anger.

"You worry too much." I whisper.

The whole van shakes as we pull out of the barn and out onto a dirt road, feeling every bump that the wheels roll over. Eventually a street sign flashes in front of us as we leave the forest, hitting a much better paved road.

T-Bag sits in front of us and cranes his neck, turning his head to speak to Abruzzi, "John, I got to ask you why you so intent on Lincoln driving here, and you taking that particular seat?" I turn to see Abruzzi's back straighten as his hand slides beneath the seat.

"Ray." I hear T-Bag say my name, and turn to face him. His hand is raised over his shoulder, open and inviting, and without thinking twice, almost reflexively, I reach out to grip it. His hand is rough, and his fingers curl around mine as I see Abruzzi move next to me.

I turn, and I see a gun. "No!" I cry out as Abruzzi leans forward to put the pistol in his hand against the skin of T-Bag's skull. Before the trigger is pulled I hear a click, and T-Bag's grip relaxes just as I feel a sliver of metal tug on the skin of my wrist.

"What the hell are you doing?" It is Michaels voice this time and I turn to see that latched around my wrist is the glimmering metal of a handcuff. I follow the small chain and see that the corresponding bracelet is locked around T-Bag.

"You think that will stop me?" John snarls, and my eyes widen.

"John!" I cry again, just wanting him to put the gun down.

"Think twice, Johnny boy." T-bag hisses, "You shoot me and Ray will be dragging round 170 pounds of dead Alabama flesh with her, and considering how attached you are to her I don't think you're gonna pull that trigger."

"No." John said simply and I see him cock the gun, his finger readying on the trigger.

"Don't you dare!" I cry out again. Michael leans forward in the seat in front of me, his hands patting down T-Bag

"Now you're going to give me the key to those cuffs T-bag." Michael growls, his hands dipping into T-Bags pockets and I feel panic rising in my chest, hot and viscous. I then see it, a small glimmer of metal falling out the folds of T-Bag's pockets.

I reach forward, grabbing a hold of the small key before Michael has even had the chance to see it. I raise it up, staring at it, T-Bag turning to meet my eyes. By now Michael has seen it clasped in my fingers, and he inhales sharply.

"Take them off," he instructs calmly. My eyes do not leave T's as my finger tips turn white, the key leaving an impression on my flesh.

"Ray-" Abruzzi starts, the barrel of the gun still flush with T-Bag's skull.

I smile at T-Bag, as broadly as I can manage, before opening my mouth, placing the key on my tongue, and swallowing hard.

"Spit it out!" Michael screams, lurching forward to grab me by my shoulders.

"Spit it out!" Abruzzi mimics Michael, but the barrel of his gun does not move. It is too late, I can feel the jagged edges move uncomfortably down my throat. T-Bag's eyes are wide, staring at me with a look of total disbelief.

"There is no way," I choke out, my voice hoarse, "That I am letting you kill him."

"You stupid bitch." Abruzzi mutters, removing the gun from T-Bag's head, and I let out a slow sigh of relief.

"We can settle this in Mexico." Michael mutters, and I smile, my arm hanging over the back of T-Bags seat, his hand latched to mine by cold metal.

"We got trouble!" The van had fallen into a tense silence after Abruzzi came close to murdering T-Bag, and we had driven for some time with no one making a noise. I had been sitting with my head resting on the seat in front of me, avoiding looking at Abruzzi, my eyes shut as I felt every pothole we drove over. However my head snaps up as Lincoln's voice echoes throughout the small, cramped space. We all look out through the window to see the flashing lights up ahead, signaling a road block.

"We've got to get off this road!" I hiss.

"Is there another way to the airstrip?" Lincoln asks.

"This is the only road." Michael answers.

"Well, lets run this bitch!" Tweener suggests, and I feel myself roll my eyes.

"Somebody shut him up or I will." C-Note threatens.

"Can we go back?" Sucre suggests.

"That won't do us any good." Michael tells us, "It'll only get us farther from where we need to be."

"Which means we got to bust this road block." Lincoln groans.

"Maybe not. We've just got to try and go around." Lincoln quickly takes Michael's advice, putting the van into reverse and spinning the car around, driving onto a dirt road that leads into the forest once more, the van bouncing as it tries to tackle the terrain.

"We're going to get those cuffs off you." Michael tells me. I shrug.

"Gonna have to wait for me to crap the key out." I challenge him. While normally I hold a very high opinion of Michael, I have other priorities, "No one else is dying tonight."

Suddenly the van hits a particularly deep pothole, and every passenger of the van bounces towards the road, Michael striking his head painfully against the metal – not having been quick enough to shield his scalp from the blow.

As the van crashes down it comes to a halt. We can hear Lincoln pushing against the gas pedal, the wheels spinning beneath us but the van remains stationary. The whole car vibrates as the wheels whirr, but it quickly becomes apparent that there is nothing that can be done.

"We're stuck." Lincoln announces eventually, exasperation in his voice.

"Everybody out!" Michael orders, opening his door and jumping out into the dark. I clamber over the seats, the metal cuff pulling me out into the cold air, and my feet the mud. I shiver, glancing around as Michael leans down takes the corner of his truck in his hands, T-Bag pulling me behind the van so we can add our own leverage. We grab the bumper, we bend our knees and we lift with every fibre of strength in our bodies. The wheel whirrs angrily, spinning mud up into our faces, but the van is not moving.

"This thing ain't going nowhere!" Sucre announces, just re-iterating what we were all already thinking.

"How far is the air strip?" Lincoln asks as he gets out of the van, slamming the door shut behind him.

"Maybe two miles." Michael tells him.

"What the hell are we waiting for? Let's move!" The urgency is thick in Abruzzi's voice as he begins to head down the dirt path.

"We don't break those cuffs, we aren't going make ten feet." Michael points out. I feel my body tense.

"We'll manage." I growl. "We don't have to leave someone behind in the dirt to get shit done."

"We're teammates." T-Bag spits defiantly.

"Okay, let's go!" Lincoln cries, far more concerned with putting distance between us and the police than who is chained whom.

I feel rough skin against the palm of my hand, and glancing down I realize that it is T-Bag, reaching over and lacing his fingers between mine, gripping me tightly. He meets my eyes, nodding purposefully, and without missing a beat we break into a sprint down the dirt path in pitch dark, our feet falling in unison on the soft ground.

We are only running for a few moments when we hear it behind us. The distinct, obnoxious whirl of a helicopter blade, it's light spilling across the trees that line our path. I can hear Lincoln screaming somewhere close by, yelling 'Go!' as he desperately tries to keep out of the chopper's line of sight. All I can focus on is the steam of my breath, the sound of my heartbeat and the grip I have on T's hand, making sure neither of us falls behind.

Suddenly we come to a halt, abrupt and dramatic, and dust flies into the air while we scrape our feet against the ground, trying to put a halt to the momentum we have gathered. There is what appears to be a sharp drop in front of us, a few of us coming too close to tumbling down the ledge.

"What now?" Sucre hisses, "What do we do now Michael?"

"I don't believe this." Lincoln groans, as the whirring grows louder. I turn my head, craning my neck to see the helicopter in the distance.

"We have to do something." I insist, knowing that we are entirely exposed.

Suddenly Michael jumps, and I almost cry out in panic as he disappears over the edge. It is only when I step forward, wondering why we had not seen him tumble to bottom of the steep hill, that I see there is a small overhanging ledge beneath us, giving us the exact type of shelter we need.

Everyone immediately crouches down and slides beneath the large slab of rock that will shield us from the beam of the helicopter. I steady myself on the ledge and ease T-Bag down underneath ahead of me, trying to balance with one free hand as the chain tugs painfully on the skin of my wrist.

I slide down behind the rock just as the light catches it, casting a dark shadow over the dirt in front of us. I let out a small breath I didn't realise I had been holding, and wait for the deafening sound of the helicopter blades to pass.

"It's coming back y'all!" C-note announces, his eyes peering over the ledge, "Make yourself small!"

I crouch, pulling my knees as tight up to my chest as I can manage. One of my arms is wrapped tightly around my legs, while my other is outstretched, my hand dangling from the taught chain.

"There's no way we're going to make two miles like this!" C-Note cries out over the loud whirring of the helicopter, "Especially with that bird up there!"

"We are if I've got something to do with it!" Sucre tells us with confidence in every word. I look over and see him staring intently down the slope of the hill. I follow his gaze and see an abandoned car sitting next to a small shed, just where the land levels out beneath us.

We do not have the luxury of time, and within seconds we are descending the steep hill as quickly as we can imagine with out tumbling over ourselves. Sucre sprints over to the car, ducking hastily into the drivers seat. The closer we get to it the more apparent it becomes why this car was abandoned; it is a total piece of junk.

"What are you planning to do with that anyway?" Lincoln asks as we regain our footing and catch our breath.

"Hot-wiring is my speciality!" He announces with pride.

I inhale deeply into my lungs and feel fresh air flood my body. The rest of the team begin to dissipate, using this opportunity of quiet to catch their breath, to get some form of rest before we are running once again. I turn to T-Bag, whose face is lit dimly by the moon.

"Let's sit down." I say simply, only now realising how the muscles in my legs and chest are burning. He nods, but he looks preoccupied, there is tension on his face that had not been there earlier. I lead him over to the side of a small lake, and take a seat on what appears to be a discarded pipe.

"Hey!" I hear Abruzzi call and I glance over my shoulder to see him lurking a short distance behind us, "Don't you two be disappearing!" He warns and I can't help the eye roll that creeps up on me. I look back at T-Bag, whose eyes are trained on the still water in front of us, acting as if he had not even heard Abruzzi call to us.

"This was pretty stupid of me, right?" I ask, trying to snap him out of it. He blinks, and turns to me. I raise my wrist, demonstrating the chain linking us.

"It wasn't stupid." He tells me plainly. I breathe out slowly, watching as some thought plays on his face.

"Ray-na…" He starts.

"Yeah?"

"After tonight, I mean, if we make it. If we get to mexico an' all." He looks at his feet, "I want you to stick with me."

I breathe in sharply, my eyes widening, "Oh," is all I can manage at first, "Seriously, I always thought of you as a loner?"

"Well, I ain't." T-Bag's voice is sharp, and I realise he thinks I am making excuses.

"Well, I'm not one to chain myself to someone if I don't mean it." I say softly, and I smile, hoping he doesn't think I'm joking. "T, you're stuck with me. Literally. Tonight, tomorrow, here and in mexico. I ain't going anywhere if you don't want me to." He looks shocked, and I shrug, staring back out at the water, "We're teammates, remember?"

"What do you mean it won't start?" Michael cries as we all crowd around the car, Sucre getting out of the driver's seat with a look of despair on his face.

"There's no engine." Lincoln tells us, "The car's been gutted"

Once again we hear the sound of helicopter blades ripping through the night air. "We need to get inside." Michael announces, knowing that our options are running dangerously short. We turn and survey the landscape, seeing a large barn further on up the hill.

We hurtle through the trees, wasting no time as we climb up the hill, dirt falling away beneath our feet. I am gasping for air as my legs fight against gravity, my hand clasped firmly around T-Bags as he uses his strength to pull me along, not letting me lag behind him as my muscles cramp.

We tear into the barn where the rest of the team are waiting, a disused car laying in the centre of the room. I look around as I gulp in air, trying my best to catch my breath as a stitch rips through my diaphragm. T-Bag's hand is still firmly gripping mine when I hear the sound of the door slamming shut. I scowl, turning my head to see Lincoln behind us.

"What's going on?" T-Bag asks, but before anyone answers Lincoln runs up behind him and with a load roar he grabs T-bag by the shoulders and pulls him over the bonnet of the car, bending him over and pinning him down. My body follows involuntarily, the sudden pull stretching my shoulder and I let out a hiss of pain as I stumble over beside him.

I glance over to see Sucre come up behind us, a pair of wire fence cutters in his hands. While T-Bag is pinned in place I am still free, and immediately I movedin front of him, my body shielding the handcuffs, one arm outstretched.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I hiss.

"Ray, we have to. We're not going to get anywhere like this." Michael tells me calmly, stepping towards me.

"Then leave us." I spit out.

"You know we're not going to do that." Abruzzi interjects, and I feel my face flush red with anger and panic. Michael moves quickly, darting over and grabbing me around my shoulders, pulling me out of the way, giving Sucre easy access to the chain linking me to T-Bag. I struggle as Michael reaches around and holds my arm still, making it easier for Sucre to place the metal links between the sharp edges of the fence cutters.

I hold my breath as he pushes down with all his strength, gritting his teeth, the muscles in his arms and neck visibly tensing. Nothing happens, no sound of the chain breaking, no sudden freedom. I breathe a sigh of relief as Sucre shakes his head, removing the pliers.

"It ain't going to work" Sucre spits angrily. T-Bag grins, and his smile turns into a laugh, his cackle echoing throughout the barn. I feel myself let out a quiet, giddy laugh of relief myself as his eyes lock with mine.

"We're just meant be, Ray-na." He tells me gleefully. And I smile broadly, nodding in agreement before my eyes just about managing to spot Abruzzi in my peripheral.

He has an axe.

I hear T-Bag gasp, and I feel the horror before I have even processed it. I watch Abruzzi raise the axe, and I feel Michael's grip on me tighten – knowing full well what I want to do in that moment. My eyes widen, and my mouth opens, but no sound comes out as the axe comes down, as the blade slices through the air, through flesh, through bone, and striking metal. There is a scream that rips my heart in two, and the resistance on my wrist is gone.

He falls slowly the ground in front of me, and tears have sprung to the corner of my eyes. I violently shake out of Michael's grip, tearing his arms from my shoulders, and I rush to T-Bags side. I feel my legs give out, no longer able to support this weight. He is moaning, he is sobbing, he is bleeding.

"He's lucky I didn't take it to his head." Abruzzi spits.

I feel the vitriol mix with tears in the back of my throat and turn to face him, "SHUT UP!" I roar. I turn, looking back down at him, reaching out the hand with the blood stained cuff still latched on the wrist. I place it on his shoulder as he whimpers, the bloody stump where his hand used to be clutched to his stomach, blood pooling on the concrete floor.

"You cut his… You cut his…" Sucre is stammering in horror, watching as T-Bag writhes in pain. I dig my fingers into the material of his shirt, trying to stifle the sobs, trying to bury the panic that is mounting as I watch the blood drain from him.

"Sucre, shut up." Lincoln hisses, and the place falls silent, with the exception of the weak cries seeping out of T-Bag's throat.

"Hello?" We hear an unfamiliar voice call from outside, the owner of the barn having heard the commotion and come out to investigate "Hello?" The voice comes again, along with the sound of a shot gun being cocked. I bite down on my trembling lower lip, trying not to cry as T-bag tries to stifle his own moans.

A few minutes of silence pass before we are comfortable that whoever had come to investigate had decided to leave. "Come on, let's go." Lincoln announces as he slides the barn door back over. My eyes widen and I turn to stare at the rest of the group, shaking my head.

"I'm not leaving him!" I hiss, a tear rolling down my cheek, my hand still latched onto his shoulder.

"Ray, come on!" Michael insists as the rest of the guys file out into the dark.

"He'll bleed to death." The statement comes out in choked sobs, the reality setting in. He is still whimpering, he is still alive, there is still a chance. "I can't leave him here to die."

"Ray, don't be stupid!" Michael shouts, urgency in his voice. I shake my head again.

"Not without him." I say simply.

Michael does not listen, instead he rushes over to my side, reaches down and grabs me around my shoulders, hauling me upright. I claw at his arms, wriggling and squirming in his grip as he tries to restrain me. "Get off me!" I bellow, no longer caring about attracting attention to ourselves, no longer caring about freedom, "I'm not leaving without him!"

"Well, I'm not leaving with you!" Michael cries defiantly, adjusting his grip and wrestling me away from T-Bag as I kick and pull. He wraps an arm around my waist and suddenly my feet aren't on the ground anymore. I let out a pained cry, tears staining my chin, and as the night air greets me I reach out and grab a hold of the barn door.

"T!" I cry out, and I see his eyes rise from where his discarded, detached hand lies. They lock with mine and I cannot breathe.

"Ray-na…" He murmurs, his voice soft but clear enough for me to hear, "Don't - " but I my grip fails me and my hands slide off the wooden door, and I am dragged back into the night with Michael.

"Hurry up!" Michael yells at me, his hand gripping my wrist firmly, tugging me through the trees, "We're behind." I can barely breathe, each breath is accompanied with a sob, my whole body is shaking.

"Do you want to get caught?" Michael snarls as we notice the rest of the guys up ahead, making their way through the trees.

"Honestly." I whisper, "I don't care."

We catch up eventually, but find ourselves slowing down, creeping through the bushes beside the road as police cars drive past us, their spinning lights casting strange images across the ground. Michel stops and crouches down, peering through the branches of trees as we all crowd round him, awaiting our next set of instructions.

"The air strips on the other side of that field," He explains, "500 yards and this will all be over." We glance up at the police car sitting a few feet away from us.

"He's not moving." Sucre hisses.

"Every second we stay here is another chance for them to find the plane!" Abruzzi tells him. At this point his voice makes my skin crawl, the sight of him makes my vision turn red, the anger I feel is entirely insatiable. Abruzzi moves to get up and run, but Michael stops him

"Wait, wait." He insists, as another police car drives past. It disappears down the road and out of sight, Michael nods, "Alright, let's go!"

We all spring up from where we had been hiding, running through the wide field that is the only thing between us and our guaranteed freedom. C-note falls and hastily picks himself up, his feet treading through the grass easily as we approach the air field. Excited looks erupt on everyones face, but mine remains unchanged, the prospect of freedom having been horribly tainted.

"Freeze, don't move." I hear someone call through a megaphone. I stop for a split second, turning around to see a police car, signalling its arrival with its colourful lights. I scowl, wondering whether to continue on when Michael comes up behind me and gives me a hasty shove, making sure that in my grief I would not give up.

We are close to the air strip when we notice the airplane, the lights bright, the engine whirring.

"I can see it!" Sucre happily cries, I just continue on running, my legs moving systematically without thought, only able to focus on the most basic mechanics of the situation. Then the sirens blare through the night, not just one police car now, coming up on the road beside us as we run as fast as we can manage. The airplane is moving now, letting out the high pitched whirring sound as it turns around, positioning itself on the runway for take off.

"We're almost there!" Lincoln shouts encouragingly. 500 yards have never seemed so long. My legs hurt, my lungs hurt, and every muscle in my body seems to be on fire.

We eventually reach the air strip, our feet thudding on the concrete as we run in front of the now moving plane, stopping in its path, watching as it roars towards us.

"Hey!" Everybody else yells, jumping up and down, waving their arms in the air, hoping that they would be noticed. I sigh and bend over, taking in short ragged breaths, realising that this is a losing battle where I have no investment in the outcome. There is no point.

There is a loud roaring noise as the plane lifts off and flies right over us, the noise deafening as it casts a brief shadow before it disappears. I lift my head up, watching as its flashing lights move along the night sky. "No!" Michael cries in despair

"What do we do now?" Sucre asks Michael, all of us staring at the flashing blue and red lights of the fast approaching police cars, their sirens blaring.

"We run."