Crayton gives the driver an address as he folds himself into the front seat. Ella and I pile into the back, next to Marina.

The driver nods, and then promptly slams his foot down on the accelerator, throwing us all back against the cracked plastic seat. New Delhi becomes a blur of bright colors and fleeting sounds. We zip past cars and rickshaws, goats and cows. We take corners so fast I’m surprised it isn’t on two wheels. We miss clipping pedestrians by a hair’s breadth so many times I lose count. Then I decide it’s probably best if I don’t look so closely. We’re tossed back and forth against each other. The only way we keep ourselves from falling onto the car’s dirty floor is by clinging to one another and anything else we can grab.

The taxi jumps a curb at one point, shooting down a stretch of narrow sidewalk to avoid stalled traffic. It’s totally crazy and I admit it I love every second of it. Years of running, hiding, and fighting have turned me into a total adrenaline junkie. Marina plants her hands on the headrest in front of her, refusing to look out the windows while Ella leans over her, trying to take it all in.

With no warning, the driver jerks the taxi violently down a road that runs behind a long row of warehouse buildings. The street is flanked by dozens of men with AK - 47 s. Our driver nods at them as we fly past. Crayton looks over his shoulder at me. His concerned face makes the knot in my stomach grow larger. The road is suddenly and noticeably absent of traffic.

‘Where are you taking us?’ Crayton demands of the driver. ‘We need to go south and you’re headed north.’ Marina’s head jerks up and she and Ella look over at me questioningly.

All of a sudden the car screeches to a halt and the driver dives out the door, rolling away from the taxi. A dozen vans and covered trucks surround the car. Each vehicle has a similar smudge of red paint on the doors, but I can’t quite make out what it is. Men in street clothes jump out of the vans, machine guns ready.

Now the adrenaline really starts to flow. It always kicks in before a fight. I look over at Marina and see the terrified look on her face, but I know she will take her cues from me. I keep myself calm. ‘You guys ready? Marina? Ella?’ They nod.

Crayton puts his hand up. ‘Wait! Look at the trucks, Six. Look at their doors!’

‘What?’ Ella asks. ‘What’s on their doors?’

The men come closer, their shouts growing urgent. I’m too focused on the imminent danger to consider what Crayton is talking about. When people with guns threaten me, or the ones I love, I’ll make sure they regret it.