I had heard these very words from him before, and I knew them well. The recitation was an official proclamation of Star’s guilt and final sentence. He would be following immediately with her execution. Even with the pomp and circumstance of the pronouncement, there would be no time to wait. He had already begun; she was going to be dead in less than a minute.
The dark, prophetic sensation that had been plaguing me was now a set of icy fingers clawing at my throat. I felt myself moving forward with deliberate intent. The doorway of the building seemed an almost unattainable objective in the distance, but it loomed clear in my sight, beckoning me.
By the time I took my fifth step, I was at a dead run.
“MISTER GANT!” I heard Agent Kavanaugh’s voice in the distance behind me, but I didn’t stop.
Figures I had not previously noticed were now coming out of the shadows as I barreled through the SWAT perimeter. These men had been the only ones not completely diverted from their mission by the insanity on the parking lot above. Still, they were staged at a distance from the entrance and focused on impending entry into the building. Whether by pure luck, the situation, or fate alone, I was yards ahead before I began to hear their shouts.
“GODDDAMIT, ROWAN!” I picked out Ben’s voice bellowing from within the jumble of others that were ordering me to stop.
My cell phone flew from my hand as my arms pumped in unison with my legs. I was starting to wheeze as cold air rushed in and out of my lungs. I wasn’t in the best of shape to begin with, but the bulk of the flak vest and my coat weren’t helping either.
My knees were complaining, and a sharp chill was biting into my leg where my pants had soaked up wetness from the slush on the street. I ignored the pains that were vying for attention throughout my body and pushed myself forward. I could hear the clamor of footsteps behind me and felt a momentary wave of relief. I couldn’t stop to tell anyone what was happening, but if they followed me in, that would be good enough.
I launched myself over the low curb and on my first stride was across the narrow sidewalk. With far more agility than I had displayed exiting the van, I hit the low stairs and propelled myself past two of the three and directly onto the landing. I threw a forearm up in front of my face and allowed the inertia I had built up to coil into my body as I hit the door.
The barrier was already unlatched, and the force with which I struck caused it to fling wide, impact an interior wall, then bounce back. I thrust my arm out to the side and caught the door before it could hammer back into my face then drove inward through the darkness.
I was already several steps into the building before I began to slow. I could hear a gathering commotion through the door behind me, but thus far I was the only one who had entered. Part of me wanted to wait for the SWAT team to catch up, but I knew that there was no time.
My labored breaths were grating in my ears and sending cold stabs through my chest. My heart was thumping out of control, and I could feel my right leg beginning to cramp. I winced at the pain and stumbled as I wandered through the dark interior.
Some small amount of light was streaming in from the door to my rear, but “small amount” was the operative phrase. It did little to illuminate the interior much beyond the first few feet. Porter had said second floor, but I had no idea how this building was laid out. Not to mention that it had been abandoned for Goddess knows how long.
Piles of unidentifiable debris announced themselves solely by feel as I thumped against and tripped over them. The one thing I could say for certain was that several of them were very hard.
My eyes were finally beginning to adjust to the darkness but not quickly enough for the given situation. I had no idea where the stairs were in this structure, and I still couldn’t see enough to find them. My throat began to constrict, and my chest felt tight as a wave of panic washed over me. I could hear the blood begin to rush in my ears and fear commenced stabbing me in the back with repeated thrusts of gelid anxiety.
“…Therefore, following in the footsteps of the blessed Apostle Paul…” Porter’s voice came to me as a distant echo.
I swallowed hard against the constriction in my throat and pushed forward, staggering through the darkness with my hands waving blindly in front of me. It took one half dozen steps and something hard biting into my shin before I careened into a cold wall.
The cramp in my leg blossomed, twisting the muscle down the back of my calf into a secure knot. Fiery agony shot through the appendage as my knee automatically bent in an attempt to hide from the onslaught.
I caught my breath and grunted as I fought to ignore the pain. I pushed myself away from the wall but left one hand against it for support as I limped along.
“PORTER! YOU SONOFABITCH!” I screamed.
My words glanced from the walls of the empty building, fading away on the heels of a sharp echo. An almost solemn silence followed the last audible reproduction of my voice, then after a measured beat, his voice began again.
“Millicent Renee Sullivan. By this our definitive sentence we drive you from the ecclesiastical court, and abandon you to…”
I had no idea exactly how long I had been in the building at this point. I assumed, however, based on his cadence and the words spoken, that it had only been a matter of seconds. My eyes had adjusted enough that I could now make out murky shapes but not much more. I twisted in place, looking frantically for a direction to go.
“…Secular court, that having you in its power now moderates its sentence of death against you…”
The echo of Porter’s voice bounced around the building, repeating itself into silence. I tried to follow the sound and found myself spinning in a confused circle, knowing only that it was coming from above.
I knew I couldn’t waste any more time. The sentence had been pronounced, and there was very little ceremony left before he carried out the execution. I whipped my head around and made a snap decision, picking a direction to try, in hopes that it would lead to what I sought. I took a quick look down and to the side, scanning for obstacles before pushing completely away from the wall.
Light flashed behind me, and I heard scrambling footsteps as the SWAT team entered. A momentary swath of white luminance cut across the wall then along the floor in front of me before swinging in the opposite direction. I assume it had come from one of their flashlights, but the source was moot. While it had been dimmed by distance, it was still enough to give me what I needed.
Pure luck, magick, divine guidance of The Ancients. I had no idea what was responsible. All I knew was that had I not been looking in the exact spot at the exact instant the light passed over, I would have missed the stairwell through the opening just ahead of me.
CHAPTER 38:
“HE’S ON THE SECOND FLOOR!” I screamed aloud to the SWAT team as I leapt forward, aiming myself at the opening.
I couldn’t be sure if they heard me or even saw me. I didn’t think about it until later, but my sudden movement could very easily have gotten me shot. Whoever, or whatever, was watching over me was apparently still on the job.
I ran my shoulder into the wall and groped for anything I could use to steady myself. My fingers fell against something hard and ice cold. When I tightened my hand, I recognized what I was gripping to be a solid metal handrail.
I turned my face up and saw a faint yellow glow, telling me there was some form of light ahead.
The cramp that was seizing the muscle in my right leg was still impeding my motion to the best of its ability as it caused me to list to the side. I threw my left arm out and began pulling myself hand over hand as I struggled up the littered stairwell.
“…And having before us the Holy Gospels that our judgment may proceed as from the countenance of God…” Porter’s ominous voice was becoming louder with every step I took.