Page 26 of Faith Among Monsters

I kick hard at the vent cover, my boot slamming into the metal with a dull thud. It doesn’t give.

“Come on,” I mutter through clenched teeth, my frustration boiling over.

I kick again. The metal warps slightly, groaning under the force.

Another kick. This time, a louder whine echoes through the vent. The sound of it feels almost personal, like the vent is fighting back.

I growl under my breath, the sound feral and unrecognizable, and thrust with all my might.

The cover buckles, one side snapping free with a metallic shriek.

Of course.

I shift, planting both feet against the warped metal, and push with everything I have left. My muscles tremble with the effort, and the edge of the vent digs into my shoulder blades. Finally, it bends, leaving just enough space.

I wiggle through the opening, my arms straining as I pull myself up. The sharp edge of the metal scrapes my side, slicing through my shirt and dragging against my skin. Pain flares along my ribs, but I grit my teeth and push through.

The moment I’m free, I roll onto the flat surface of the roof, gravel biting into my palms and knees. The cool wind hits me, chilling the sweat on my skin, and for a second, I just lie there, breathing hard.

Now what?

I sit up slowly, wincing as the gravel grinds against my scraped palms. The roof stretches out around me, plain, flat, and unforgiving. The edge is close, but there’s no railing, just a sheer drop into the chaos below.

I glance toward the distant yard, my heart hammering as I strain to hear anything.

The wind whips past me, cool and relentless, but there’s no more gunfire. No shouts. Just an eerie, unsettling silence.

I push to my feet, my legs trembling slightly, and scan the roof. My gaze locks on a small structure near the center, a metal door at the top of a stairwell, sticking up like a boxy little room.

I move toward it, my boots crunching softly over the gravel. The sound feels deafening in the quiet, each step an echo of my fraying nerves.

When I reach the door, I grab the handle and twist.

It’s locked.

Of course it is.

I clench my jaw, pressing my forehead against the cool metal for a moment as I weigh my options. My breathing slows, the adrenaline still thrumming in my veins.

To the side, something catches my eye, a narrow catwalk connecting this roof to the next building.

It doesn’t look much safer over there, but the height might give me a better view of the yard. Maybe I can see what’s happening.

I step closer to the edge, peering down. The catwalk sways slightly in the wind, the metal grates weathered with rust. My stomach flips at the thought of crossing it, but I know I can’t stay here.

It’s not safe anywhere right now.

My gaze shifts back to the yard in the distance. The silence feels heavier now, thick and oppressive.

The catwalk creaks beneath me as I step onto it, the metal groaning in protest. It shifts slightly, swaying just enough to make my stomach lurch. I don’t look down.

One step at a time.

My fingers grip the rusted metal rail tightly as I move forward, each step slow and carefully placed. The salty air bites at my skin, the wind teasing strands of hair into my face. I glance up as I near the next roof, exhaling in relief as solid ground comes into view.

Carefully, I step off the catwalk, testing the new roof with my weight. It feels steady underfoot, the gravel crunching softly as I take another step.

This should be…I pull up my hazy memories of the too-brief tour Dax gave me.

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