It was desperate. It was terror. It was shoving others out of her way so she could get past and they would be hurt instead of her. It was knowing she ...as doing that and not caring. Not caring what happened to anyone else, right then, in her fear, because she was worried about herself. It was as much what this was as anything else, she decided, and she only understood it once the run began. She ran, and saw that the Spanish man on the train had been right. Already, to either side of her,. The first picture was of Lisa stretched out on their bed. Candles lit the room, although their effect was somewhat muted by the camera's flash. However that same flash did a wonderful job of revealing Lisa's tan skin set off by the lacey white negligee she was wearing. She was giving the camera a naughty smile. The second was more of the same. Lisa had lain down on her side, her head propped up on one hand. Her leg was akimbo, the foot resting on her other knee. The white lace had fallen away. More

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