Every step is slippery, requiring agonizing focus and strength.
My thighs burn. My hands go numb. The rough stone of the exterior wall scrapes my shoulder as the wind pushes me against it, tearing the shirt and leaving a hot, stinging line of broken skin.
I keep moving.
One step. Two step.
Click.
A sharp, mechanical sound vibrates through the rain. A floodlight snaps on in the grounds below, sweeping the lawn. I freeze, pressing my body flat against the iron stairs, praying the shadows hide me.
The perimeter sensors are active.
I force myself to move faster under the cover of darkness. Every second counts. Cassian could return to the tower at any moment.
The last flight of stairs is slick with moss. I lose my footing on the bottom three steps and slide, landing hard in the mud of the hedges. The impact knocks the wind out of me. I roll, gasping, trying to suck air into startled lungs. The cold mud seeps into my clothes, heavy and unforgiving.
For a second, I lie still, staring up at the rain. My hip throbs. My feet are bleeding, and my shoulder burns.
But I’m alive. And I’m on the ground.
Free. Almost.
I scramble to my feet, caked in mud and soaked to the bone. I need to orient myself.
The grounds are pitch black. The security lights at the gatehouse to the south are dead, leaving the main entrance swallowed by the storm.
I turn north, keeping to the shadows of the perimeter wall.
Summoning every bit of strength I have, I run.
The mud sucks at my toes, cold and punishing with hidden twigs, but I force myself forward, ducking under the low branches of the trees.
The only sound is the wind howling and the distant roar of the ocean.
I hit the perimeter wall. It’s twelve feet of stone, topped with razor wire. Unclimbable.
I keep to the shadows, moving blindly along the wall until I hit steel. It's a heavy service gate. The electronic keypad on the stone pillar glows red, locked down, but mounted on the inside is a mechanical crash bar. I throw my entire body weight against the freezing metal, shoving the bar inward. The latch clunks, and the gate groans open against the wind.
I peek through the gap.
The service road is empty. Beyond the gate, a narrow strip of asphalt cuts blindly into the woods. I break into a run.
I slip through the gap, and just like that, I’m free.
It almost doesn’t feel real.
But there isn’t time to relish in the victory.
I sprint down the center of the road without a clue of where I’m going, but away. Away from the tower. Away from the man with the dark eyes and the bruised knuckles.
I run until my lungs burn. Until my legs feel like lead. I give it my all to put as much space as possible between my captor and me.
Headlights cut through the rain, coming up the road toward me. I freeze. The light blinds me, turning the rain into a curtain of diamonds. Is it them? The Syndicate? Or is it the police?
The vehicle slows. It’s a black SUV.
I squint through the rain. There are no flashing lights. No police markings. No license plate on the front bumper. Undercover? Private security?
