Chapter 4: The Fire Stair

We ran.

Elias took the stairs of Linden House three at a time, and I took them two, with his flannel jacket flapping off my shoulders.

We crossed the quad on the wet grass with the sprinklers ticking.

Bell Hall's front doors were locked, and the security booth beside them was lit.

The night guard sat inside with his chin on his chest and a thermos on his knee.

"Leave him," Elias said. "The fire stair."

The outside stair was iron, painted white, with a gate at the bottom that somebody had left unlatched.

I went up first.

Dane was already above us, a pale shape moving past the fourth landing, and he never looked back.

I took the steps by the rail and counted landings under my breath, because it was the only way to keep my legs moving.

Five.

Six.

The last flight went up to a steel door standing open to the roof, and the wind came down through it cold and smelling of tar.

I came out onto the roof with my lungs burning.

It was flat and wide, with a low brick wall around the edge.

Dane was standing on the wall.

He was at the northeast corner with his arms down at his sides and his bare feet curled over the brick.

His eyes were open and fixed on the dark space past the quad.

"Dane," I said.

He didn't turn.

Elias came out of the stairwell behind me, saw where Dane stood, and stopped.

"That's the corner," he said under his breath. "That's the one."

His face had gone grey.

I took one step toward Dane, and then another, slowly.

"Dane, it's Jo," I said, in the voice I use at the diner when someone has had too much. "I need you to come down off the wall."

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