The hole was just as Zaharah remembered it. Empty, save for the names of fellow tiger sharks past and present etched on the walls. She crossed to the northwest corner where her name sat up high alongside a stylised version of the team logo.

For as long as she could remember, the Tiger sharks had been assigned to the Locker room D, right next to this hole. And it had become a communal area for them to celebrate, cry, vent and decompress after games.

Zaharah soaked in the nostalgia, but an icy feeling undercut it. After physical therapy, she'd had no desire to play pocking anymore. Part of the thrill was having her family up there in the stands cheering her on. It would usually be Quelle and Jade, but on rare occasion, mom, dad and the twins would come out too. With them gone, pocking didn't seem worth it anymore.

Jade tapped her on the shoulder. Where to now?

"This way." She flicked her head to the corridor beyond the door and led them to the entrance of locker room D. The metal door sported a few nicks and pocks from time and shenanigans, and the panel on the side blinked red. Locked. She bit her lip, eyeing the keypad and palm scanner. They'd put in the extra layer of protection back in her early days after the Beach Runners rubbed monkey tamarind all over the Manta Ray's locker room.

Roddi scrunched his brow at her. "What's this?"

"The locker room for my old pocking team." She raised a hand to the pad. "I'm hoping they didn't take me out of the system. We need to get out of these clothes, change our profile in case the Director has people looking for us."

"I don't disagree, but what happens if you're not in the system anymore?"

"Then we have to run." She punched in the code on the keypad and pressed her hand to the scanner. Zaharah Cyan flashed across the screen and the door slid open.

The scent of cleaner and cleat sweat drifted into the hall, and the lights in the lounge area flickered to life. Overstuffed couches encircled a low table with a box TV hung above it. Counters hugged the north wall along with a fridge, a flat top range and a slew of appliances.

Zaharah recalled sitting on the couches, watching post-game highlights and munching on a bag of plantain chips while her teammates fought over the last of the lollies. Better times. Simpler times. Not-getting-shot-at times.

Jade touched her shoulder. You okay?

"Yeah, ah, let's hurry." She led them through the lounge to the backroom, past walls lined with lockers and seat, benches and tiny tables and finally to the showers in the back. Their reflections in the mirror were haggard, harrowed and tired. Their clothes were wrinkled, bloodied, their eyes dead, and shoulders hunched. They looked like zombies, akin to how the lab staff would come out after a two day shift.

And their nightmare wasn't over yet. They needed to move around the city without drawing attention to themselves. Zaharah went to rub her eyes, but thought better of it, when she spied the gunk on her hands. "Jade, did you pack any instant bleach? Or instant dye?"

Her sister nodded and boosted her bag onto the counter. I have spray dye. And dye and bleach packets.

"Alright. Roddi, we're making you blonde. Jade we'll use the spray dye on our braids. Pharah..." Zaharah looked towards the DJ, who leaned against the counter with her brother's bag in her arms.

I can give Pharah one of my wigs. I think the red faux dreads would fit. Jade passed Roddi a packet of instant bleach and he grimaced at it.

"Fine," he sighed, and moved the sink.

"Let's get to work." While Jade got busy helping Roddi and Pharah with their hair, Zaharah rummaged through the bags for new clothes for everyone. Thank goodness Jade raided the closets in Denden, else they'd have nothing to fit Roddi. After passing out everyone their assigned outfits, she gathered up her own clothes and slipped into a stall.

The hot water beat against and washed away the sweat, the blood, the rank of the Atlantic, and the scent of Denden. It was easy to forget under the spray, swathed in the warm hug of the steam. It was easy to feel safe, like she'd left all her problems behind in Denden, when in reality their nightmare had only started. And when the shower shut off, and the steam cleared, it all still loomed over her like a tidal wave ready to crash down.

She towelled herself dry and donned her clothes, before stepping out of the stall. Pharah sat on the bench, dressed in the sweatpants from Denden and Zaharah's Icarus hoodie. She remembered the day dad brought it home, a gift from... Zaharah squinted, the memory suddenly going dark. A gift from who?

"Zaharah?"

She raised her head at Pharah's voice.

"It's your turn."

"Right," she took Pharah's spot on the bench and sat still while Jade sprayed her braids some of her braids a shimmering gold. Her sister had already given herself bright pink streaks, pulled her hair into a ponytail and thrown a Pharahdox snapback over it. "Where's Roddi?"

He poked his head from around the bend by the locker. "Right here. Wanted to give you ladies some privacy." His hair had gone from black to a yellowish blonde, and he'd dyed his eyebrows too.

Zaharah helped Jade pack up, while Pharah tossed their garbage. As they latched the last suitcase shut, muffled conversation drifted in from the lounge area followed by the beeps of the access panel. People? But it was the off-season and training usually didn't start until June.

"I'm just saying," A voice said from the lounge. "If we had more capable frontliners we wouldn't be losing so many skirmishes. I bust my ass to protect the middle and no one is pushing."

"I'm not disagreeing," came another voice. "I just don't think you should be calling out fellow teammates like that. It counterproductive."

"They're trash, KK. We're losing because they're trash."

Zaharah made a sweeping search of the shower area and beckoned the group to follow her past the stalls. On the back wall was the laundry chute, where they'd throw bins of their dirty uniforms to be cleaned in time for the next game. She popped the latch and the scent of sweat and fabric softener drifted out.

"Wait someone was here? Look at the terminal," a third voice said.

A few beats of silence passed, before one of them swore out loud. "Zaharah...? No fucking way."

"Who's Zaharah?"

The chute angled downward into darkness. It looked sketchy, but she and her teammates had jumped down there numerous times during their drunken post-game celebrations. Zaharah beckoned Jade forward, and her sister gave her a wide-eyed look. Go, it'll be fine, she signed.

Jade gave a quick nod and tucked Skorpi under her hat before climbing in head first. As Jade slid down she helped Pharah in next.

"Did you hear that? I think someone's in the showers."

"Should I call the cops?"

"I'm getting the fuck out of here."

Zaharah's heart rate doubled. "Roddi go." After he jumped in, Zaharah piled the bags in after him in a frantic rush. Her arms burned and sweat beaded her forehead. The voices grew louder as whoever was in the other room moved closer to the showers.

"Hey!"

"Shit." She hugged the micro metal close to her chest and dove in, the hatch swinging shut in her wake. Darkness enveloped her as she charged headlong at the mercy of the chute. She held her metal arm aloft so it wouldn't scrape against the walls or floor.

After what felt like an eternity of falling, light cut through the shoot, along with hushed whispers. And a moment later, she shot through the other side into an empty bin. The microment rattled on impact and so did her bones. She lied there, at the bottom of the bin, her limbs at awkward angles, not knowing which way was up. A pair of hands caught her under the arms and pulled her up on wobbly legs.

"We gotta move," Roddi said.

She gave a jerky nod and gaze around the room. In the dim light provided by Jade's cellphone, she found the service door at the back. "Through there." Her voice came out shakey and hoarse. She took the lead as they exited the building.

The alleyway beyond stunk of the Atlantic and the metallic stench hovercars left behind. Zaharah swept her gaze from one end to the next, her stomach churning and body still unsure from her tumble down the chute. On one end, people drifted by, while the other was barricaded with metal partitions.

She beckoned the group out and down to the eastern side where another alley cut through two buildings. Dirt and debris crunch under their feet, and their reflections jogged alongside them in the mirror-like windows of the building.

At the end was a street, one of the many roads that criss-crossed the downtown area. Zaharah peeped around the building and spotted a crowd of tourists and locals gathered at one end, though she couldn't see over their heads to know what had them distracted. They just had to make it to the next alley over, then they could take the steps up to the boardwalk and meld with the crowd.

"Here's what we'll do." She turned to the group. "They're looking for four people, so we split the group. Pharah and I will take the west alley. Jade, you and Roddi take the east alley. We slip into the crowd and meet up in the park on the boardwalk."

Jade and Roddi nodded their agreement. She took the Denden duffle bag and left Zaharah with the rolling suitcases. See you on the other side.

Zaharah let them get a head start before extending a hand to Pharah. "Just play it cool and we'll be fine." Pharah stared at the outstretched hand for a moment, then slipped her own in it.

Okay, we're holding hands now, Zaharah thought as she led Pharah to the west alley. Perhaps offering her hand was too forward, they barely knew each other and the girl had lost her brother. Zaharah glanced over at Pharah, but a curtain of faux dreads hid the DJ's face.

Holding hands may make them less discriminate to whatever watchful eyes the Director had on the 700, but if Pharah wasn't comfortable... Zaharah loosened her fingers to slip them from the DJs grasp, but Pharah held fast, squeezing Zaharah's fingers into submission.

Heat crept up into Zaharah's cheeks and she kept her mouth shut and her eyes on the way ahead to hide the white hot embarrassment setting her face aflame. I guess we're holding hands then.