Mal was running, faster than he had ever done in his forty years before. Faster even than in the Valley, when it was only for his life. Now it was for someone else’s, someone much more important. But as fast as he ran, it still felt like he was crawling, the whole world slowed to a snail’s pace as he pounded through the dust.

He could hear Alex behind him, in real distress, but keeping up as well as he could, air rasping in his chest. If they didn’t slow, he was probably going to have a heart attack.

He glanced to one side, to River gliding with long paces next to him, her long dark hair flying behind her like wings, as if she was going to take off at any moment. He wondered if she’d ever looked more beautiful.

She looked at him, swerving delicately around an old oil drum without even breaking pace, and for a moment their eyes locked, and he realised she knew exactly what he was doing. Thinking about anything rather than what they might find when they got back to Serenity. Thinking about anything but - River put on a burst of speed he couldn’t hope to match and turned down an alley towards the bulk of the Firefly.

Zoe was waiting on the ramp, her gun ready, her face flushed from her own exertion. As River flew past her into the cargo bay, Mal thudded up and skidded to a stop, trying to catch his breath.

“Freya and Kaylee,” his first mate said without preamble. “They’ve taken them. Left Jayne.”

“Is he hurt?” Mal had his hand pressed into his waist as the pain of running caught up with him.

“Simon’s looking to him right now. Dillon and Hank are seeing if they can locate any tracks.” She paused. “Sir, if the pattern stays the same, Kaylee and Freya will be dropped back here. We just have to -”

“No, Zoe,” Mal interrupted. “I gotta feeling the game’s over.” He walked into his ship, his heart yammering against his ribs.

Alex had almost fallen over as he came to a halt, his hands on his knees and trying to drag air into abused lungs. “What game?” he managed to gasp.

Zoe