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!”