Goodie ran. One foot up and down and the pain made the tears flow and cut rivulets through the dirt and dust on her cheeks, but she ran. There wasn’t enough breath to cry, so she counted each step since her last fall. “2002! 2003! 2004!” she wheezed as she ran. Her legs were tired and each trip and fall was worse than the last. Her hands, knees and face carried the badges of dirt and blood, but Chagee was rescue for Pol and Castor, so she ran. “2010!” she hissed and up ahead she saw the cabins of Chagee.