Gracie laid three more poles across the gap before she tossed her spear to the roof of the next building, gripped onto one of the poles, and let herself swing around so she hung beneath it.
William’s stomach lurched and the back of his knees tingled.
Her legs crossed at the ankles, Gracie shimmied over, apparently impervious to the effects of being so high. At the other side, she reached back and pulled herself onto the roof of the building opposite.
Fortunately, Matilda made a decision before William had to. She yanked Jezebel from his grip and threw it after Gracie. It landed on the flat roof on the other side. She followed Gracie’s lead, shimmying across the pole. Like Gracie, she moved as if she’d done it a thousand times.
Now William needed to find the motivation to follow her.
Chapter 8
The cold pole and strong winds turned William’s hands numb. His knuckles ached from his tight grip, and the wind slammed into him as he hung between the second and third tower. But he kept going. An inch at a time. He’d already crossed from the first to the second tower, so he could do it again. Besides, all the others had crossed as if they’d done it a thousand times, even Dianna, who’d been the meekest of the group since they’d liberated her from the asylum. Only Matilda had waited for him on the second building, offering him a back slap of encouragement for his first tentative crossing. She then scooted over to the final roof.
William looked down and damn near lost his stomach. His head spun. His grip weakened. He clung tighter to the frigid pole. Any tighter and he’d dislocate his knuckles. They’d break before the thick steel yielded, hollow or not.
The moon shone a spotlight on him. It made him easy to see from the dark windows running down the sides of the tower blocks. The wind played the tall buildings. Were there people inside waiting to spring an attack? Scavengers? Diseased? Visible for everyone to see, he gave them every opportunity with how long this crossing had already taken. He nodded to himself and grunted through gritted teeth. “Come on, William. You can do it!”
About halfway between the towers, his jaw tight as if the strength of his clench could somehow allay the biting cold in the cutting wind. He looked down again. The line of windows showed him the way to the ground. He’d travel several hundred feet in a matter of seconds. Mines or not, the impact would shatter every bone in his body.
“William, sweetie.” Matilda leaned from the edge of the tower. “Look at me.” She smiled, but her eyes pinched at the sides. “You’ve got this, okay?”
Trembling, William nodded. He had this. He could do it.
William yelled when the metal pole slipped against the bricks. He clung to the bar, hugging it, the cold steel against his chest. But the movement hadn’t come from him. Gracie pulled one of the spare poles free, dragging it across to the third tower’s roof before laying it flat and moving on to the next one. It took her a few seconds to look at William. She clapped a hand to her mouth. “I’m so sorry. I should have warned you.”
“You reckon?”
“We have to pull the poles back across. As long as we take them all the way with us, there’s always some on either side. Sorry.”
Sweat rose on William’s brow and instantly turned cold in the biting wind. One hand over the other. An inch at a time. Like he’d done when crossing from the first to the second tower. He’d done it before. He’d do it again.
“That’s it, William.” Matilda remained at the edge of the roof. Just a few feet away. “You’re nearly there. Keep going.”
The last two feet were the hardest. The cold locked his hands into claws. Much more time on this bar and his grip would fail him. His muscles burned with fatigue, and he trembled. An inch at a time.
William threw his right hand back, slamming his knuckles against the edge of the roof. The salt in his sweating skin burned the fresh graze. A countdown in his head. Three, two, one. He threw his right hand back again. This time he caught the inside edge of the lip of brickwork around the top of the tower. He pulled himself towards the building.
Hands reached over and grabbed his clothes. Matilda and Gracie, they pulled him towards the roof, his shoulder blades scraping over the rough bricks. He fell over the other side of the lip, landing cheek first on the roof’s gravelled surface.
Gasping and lying on his back, William closed his eyes. When he opened them, Matilda looked down on him with a wide grin. “Well done! You did it.”
“Will you ever let me forget about this?”
“What do you mean?”
“Will this be like the time in Edin when I tried to make a jump and fell?”
Matilda laughed. “You’re still bitter about that?” She leaned in and kissed him. “Well done. I’m proud of you.”
A few seconds to gather himself, William remained on his back and stared up at the half-moon.
Gracie dragged the final pole across with a scrape. It pinged as she laid it with the others. She offered William her hand.
Up on shaking legs, the wind rocking his fatigued form as if it blew stronger than before. William retrieved Jezebel and walked to the edge of the roof. The city stretched away from them. “How long before we’re out of this place?”
“I reckon an hour,” Gracie said. “Keep doing as I say and we’ll make it.”
“Unless we see a better route ourselves,” Olga said.
Gracie had taken to pretending she didn’t hear Olga. For
