Chapter 6 - The Rooftop Chase
I hoisted the heavy studio window up, the rusted hinges screaming in protest. The bitter wind whipped across my face as I climbed out onto the rusted iron fire escape. Marcus followed, practically carrying Julian, whose legs were giving out from sheer exhaustion and muscle atrophy.
Behind us, the studio door splintered with a deafening CRACK.
"They're inside!" I yelled. We scrambled up the metal stairs toward the roof. Going down to the alley meant running right into the waiting police cruisers, their red and blue lights already painting the brick walls in chaotic strobes.
We burst onto the tar-paper roof just as a flashlight beam swept out of the window below us. "Suspects are on the roof! We need air support!" an officer shouted.
"Keep moving!" Marcus urged. We sprinted across the flat expanse, leaping over ventilation units and tangled cables. The adjacent building was only a five-foot jump, but for Julian, it might as well have been the Grand Canyon.
"I can't," Julian cried, collapsing at the ledge. "Just leave me, Claire. Take the key. Avenge Elena."
"I am not leaving you to die!" I grabbed him by the collar, hauling him to his feet. "Marcus, grab his other side. On three!"
"One. Two. Three!"
We hurled ourselves across the dark alleyway. For a terrifying second, we were suspended in the freezing air. Then we slammed onto the hard concrete of the neighboring roof. Pain exploded in my shoulder, but I didn't stop. We dragged Julian out of sight behind a massive billboard just as an NYPD helicopter roared overhead, its spotlight sweeping the roof we had just vacated.
Breathing heavily, we lay perfectly still in the shadows.
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"We need a car," Marcus panted. "And we need to get to that bank as soon as it opens."
I looked down at the silver key gripped tightly in my bloody hand. We were outlaws now, hunted by the police and an invisible billionaire pulling the strings. But Arthur Vance had made one fatal miscalculation. He left me alive.
