18: Refuge

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 The children, I remembered, were still there. But the neighbors had probably heard the gun shots- I assume they had been loud, but I hadn't been listening. I probably wasn't going to have enough time to grab the kids and run, but if I left them here they'd likely be moved to a more secure location.

So I compromised. I took hold of both of them- the young child seemed reluctant to hold onto my shoulder, but the infant wasn't able to resist- and ran out into the hallway. I was on the fifth floor, and I couldn't guess when the police would arrive. But I did remember how the rooftops were alighted in this neatly arranged city, and ran up to the roof.

I wasn't sure about this, actually. I hadn't taken time to bandage myself, and each step seemed untrustworthy. It was hard enough to carry my own weight, and the addition of two children didn't help.

My knees buckled just by looking down. But the nearest roof wasn't that far off. In fact, one of the neighboring buildings was actually shorter than this one- a perfect place to leap to. I just wasn't feeling very confident.

I wondered briefly if I could simply toss the children over first, and how enraged Michael would be if I missed. The children were crying. I probably couldn't risk it, I decided.

I took a couple good breaths and looked cautiously at the street below. There were no cars in Hell, but a number of bikes, and the police were one of the few who had access to motorized bikes. I could see them, even now, about ten of them. I supposed I could have taken them- I had just killed a number of soldiers, after all, who were of presumed higher rank- but not in this state.

I clutched the children, one on each shoulder, and jumped. There was a very, very long moment as I flew through the air. My head was euphoric and I couldn't feel my legs. I wasn't even aware of the approaching roof until mere seconds to impact, during which I dutifully turned to land on my back. These children were worth more than my life, I tried to commit to thinking.

There was a bit of drag that occurred as I slid on the dusty roof. Cement stones cut my shirt and back. More blood was flowing. The children were even more unhappy- did they ever shut up? How was I supposed to move them secretly if they were always making noise?

I had to drop them temporarily on the ground before I could stand up again, and still there was a good and dizzy five minutes before I was fully awake. The children weren't moving much, and I quickly had to check if they were still alive. I guess the trauma of the last half hour was starting to overwhelm them. They kept screaming, of course, that was a fucking given. But at least they weren't struggling.

There were several skylights on the roof, and I kicked one in at random. There was a table below, and I again had to jump with stiff and tired legs. Hopefully this would be the last time. I was about ready to collapse from exhaustion.

I was in a small room, very blue, that I recognized as being sort of medical in nature. Within a few minutes of wandering, I determined I had found myself in a dental office. The hygienists seemed quite uncomfortable by my appearance, but at least they stepped out of my way.

I found an elevator, luckily, and had a short respite to catch my breath. Once I got outside, I'd be right near the police. Hopefully they were all inside by now- but there was still a chance a member of the media might be waiting outside, or any other spectator.

Actually, reviewing my current state, I had no idea how I was going to go anywhere in the city. I was covered in blood and cuts and was carrying two screaming infants. TC's apartment was far off, as was the church, and as was any other place I knew in Hell.

Oh well. I kept my hold tight and did my best to breath. Maybe everyone would be so certain someone else would stop me that no one would stop me. Odder things had probably happened before, I'd wager.

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