and fitness. Jack panted from exertion and fear. He was worried for himself, but more worried for Sparky and Jenna. Breezer claimed not to be a Superior, but there was no saying how he’d treat Jack’s friends if they were recaptured. It was Jack he was interested in.
And Superior, Irregular…they were only names. Actions made a person, not what they chose to call themselves.
As Sparky jumped three steps onto a landing a door opened, and a man with bright ginger hair stepped through. He was carrying a tray of cups and bottled water, balanced on one hand while the other held the door open.
He looked at Sparky, his expression one of complete shock.
“Ha!” Sparky said.
The man drew in a breath to shout and Sparky punched him in the mouth. He dropped the tray and staggered back against the door jamb, banging his head and crying out.
“Sparky!” Jenna said, but Sparky ignored her and punched the man again. He went down in a heap. His splayed legs kicked cups across the landing, and they passed beneath the railings and clattered down the stairwell, shattering, skittering across concrete. There could not have been a more effective alarm.
“Karl?” a voice called.
Sparky looked back and forth between Jack and the fallen man.
“Came from down there,” Jenna said, stepping back from the railing.
Sparky pointed through the door. The fallen man was moaning, holding his mouth, shaking his dazed head slowly, and his crumpled body held the door open.
“We go through there and we’ll be trapped on this floor,” Jack whispered.
“Karl? What’s happening. You all right?” Footsteps from below, at least three sets, rapidly climbing. Shattered crockery was kicked aside.
Breezer had said they had escape routes from above as well. Zip wire? Window cleaners’ cradle? Jack didn’t know. But right then it seemed the best idea. It was away from pursuit, it kept them in the stairwell…and no one would expect them to do something so foolish.
“Up,” Jack whispered, gesturing with his thumb. He turned and started climbing, not waiting for his friends’ objections. Eight steps up he paused and glanced back. Sparky and Jenna were frozen there, and the fallen man was swaying on hands and knees, spitting blood.
“Trust me,” Jack said.
It took a minute to draw level with the door to the floor they’d escaped, and Jack sprinted past it, expecting it to burst open at any second. He heard shouting from below—more than one voice now—and he feared what they might use against them. Would they freeze their muscles, steal their air, make their blood boil? He sought the memory of Nomad so that he could access his own sparks of power, but the running and fear conspired to confuse him. All he had was what he’d always had—himself. That would have to be good enough.
They ran, and doors burst open below them.
“Jack, you’ll doom us all!” Breezer shouted. Jack slowed on a landing and glanced back, but Sparky and Jenna were right behind him, faces stern as they shook their heads.
“We’re away now, mate,” Sparky said.
“Door.” Jenna nodded past Jack, and they found themselves on the final landing facing a bolted steel door. The padlock was heavy, but hung open.
“Escape route,” Jack said.
“But to where?” Sparky asked.
Jack knocked the padlock aside and pushed the door open. There was a dark boiler room beyond, and a small hooped ladder leading up to a ceiling hatch.
“What, do heights scare you as much as chickens?” Jack asked.
“Squaw! Squaw!” Jenna said, flapping her arms as she pushed past Jack and setting the three of them laughing. Nervous, panicked laughter, but it felt good nonetheless. Jack felt a rush of intense love for his friends.
“Sparky, padlock,” he said as he slipped through the door. Sparky picked up the padlock and followed, and then they slammed the door closed.
Even through the metal they could hear footsteps pounding up the staircase beyond.
“Couple of floors down, do you reckon?” Sparky asked.
“Yeah. Jenna, get the trap opened.” Jack glanced back and saw that she was already there, forcing back bolts and opening the trap, sunlight flooding the room like a burst of hope. Jenna stuck her head up through the trap.
“Oh, shit,” she said.
“What?” Jack called. He was frantically scanning the door, searching for a hasp and staple through which to lock the padlock.
“You guys are gonna love this.”
“Go!” Jack said, shoving Sparky towards the ladder.
“Don’t be stupid,” Sparky said, and in those words was complete understanding. It was Jack they wanted, and Jack who was important here. “Jack, what you did to me.”
“Huh?”
“The heat. Made me sweat.” Sparky tapped the door’s handle. “Never know.”
Jack frowned, sensed inside for the power he had used on Sparky…and found it, as available to him as speech or thought. He pointed at the door’s lock and concentrated, thinking the metal hot, thinking the catch orange and molten.
“Shit!” Sparky said, backing up to the ladder. “Mate, I can feel that heat. You could have melted the bollocks off me!”
“Could have,” Jack said, smiling.
Footsteps thundered up the stairs beyond the door, and Jack was about to shout a warning when he heard a scream. Someone had grasped the handle. They wouldn’t do so again anytime soon. Jack felt a twinge of guilt, but then he pointed again and concentrated some more. It was a strange feeling, as if heat formed in his mind and left him untouched, flowing across the space between his hand and the door and super-heating the metal. He had the idea that he could melt the door if he really wanted. He could turn it to gas. The power was startling and frightening, but he felt fully in control of it. He
“Yeah,” Jack breathed, flushed with the power.
“Come on!” Sparky whispered. “Jenna was right. You’re gonna love this.”
“Sorry!” Jack shouted through the door, and then the banging began.
Up the ladder and out onto the rooftop, Jack slammed the hatch shut again before standing and joining his friends.
“You’ve gotta be kidding,” he said.
“Nope,” Jenna said.
Sparky seemed delighted. “Cool. Cool!”
There were three hang gliders on the roof. Two were folded and dismantled, but one appeared to be fully assembled, its wheels and wings tied down to prevent any errant breezes from stealing it away. A single seat was suspended beneath it. Twenty feet from its front wheel, a section of railing had been cut away to allow launch.
“Have you ever…?” Jack asked, but he didn’t need to finish. He knew that neither of his friends had ever done anything like this. That didn’t stop Sparky. He delved into Jenna’s jeans pocket, blowing her a kiss as he probed for her penknife.
“Come on!” he said. “Got seconds. Come on!”
“Maybe we should…” Jenna said.
“Wait?” Jack asked. He could still hear banging from the plant room beneath them as they tried to break through the door and its super-heated catch. “There won’t be another chance. They catch us, and Breezer will make sure we won’t get away again.”
“Yeah, but this?” Jenna pointed at the aircraft Sparky was freeing. Four cuts from the sharp knife and he
