"Okay," she spoke to herself quietly, trying to catch her breath. "Okay . . . So I stole a few articles of clothing . . . That ought to get me a few years in jail. Evading arrest and police officers, tack ten years on to that. What, this adds up to about thirteen years in jail for this?" While Tegwen estimated her punishment, the rusted old hinges of the door she leaned against snapped loose. The door instantly fell into the old building which composed one side of the alleyway.

Tegwen landed atop the old wooden door. Great. Just great. Breaking and entering! That gets me five more years? She thought, scampering up to her feet quickly. "At this rate, I won't be out of jail until my thirty-sixth hatchday!" Dusting herself off, Tegwen finally got a look at the dilapidated old building surrounding her. What is this place? She gasped in awe.

While Tegwen stared at the ancient warehouse in silence, she faintly heard the most beautiful sound she could ever have imagined: the Doppler effect on a passing police car siren.

She let out a huge breath she didn't know she was holding; one she felt she'd held since walking into the Wak-Mart Superstore.

"It's over," Tegwen whispered to herself in disbelief. "It's over." Slowly, timidly, she explored the warehouse, guided by the light streaming in through tiny rectangular windows a foot below the ceiling along its eastern wall. Some light also shone through a few southern facing windows.

There were wooden crates everywhere, some about the size of Tegwen's fist, others taller and wider than Tegwen's whole body. Interspersed with the wooden crates were cardboard boxes; ones that looked like they once housed refrigerators.

Tegwen walked around them, running her hands along their faces. She felt like a rat in a maze as her feet seemed to glide over the smooth, gray concrete floor. Every so often she would place a webbed foot just so, making a high-pitched squeak with her dirty old white tennis shoes.

The air was musty. Stale. Tegwen could see loads of dust floating in the thick air on beams of sunlight that sliced through the darkness. She should have been sneezing like crazy, the allergens a veritable assault on her respiratory system.

It was silent, all except Tegwen's own breathing and shy footsteps.

As she reached an iron-grated stairway up to the second floor, Tegwen heard a loud crash. She screamed, whipping around apprehensively to survey her surroundings.

"Who's there?!" She yelped.

No one answered but Tegwen heard quiet footsteps from somewhere above her. On the second floor, she realized, backing away from the stairwell.