Chapter 95
There was a moment of shock as the crossbow bolt pierced Pats back. At this close range his armor had kept the bolt from going all the way through him, but had failed to stop it from sticking. was so common, Id half expected the shot would miss. Instead, he whirled to face me, surprise undercutting the clear pain written across his face.
Who are you?
It only took a matter of seconds to rationalize what I was doing. Id vaguely intuited that the suits might be here, but upon finding one had acted on instinct.
I fired off to buy time. Pat fought, harder than other targets that had managed to repel me, but the fear for his lifea frigid flame kindled long before I stepped into the roomwon out.
Without a single hesitation, I descended on it, like a bug beneath my heel, unleashing everything I had.
Every doubt, every cruel intrusive thought, every negative impression youve ever had about yourself, about what you are, is true. You are a failure among failures. Thats why they sent you out here to die. Youve always been a disappointment. You could see it in your mothers face, that fateful day she set you down and never picked you up again. Your fathers ambivalence. In the smirking expressions of your peers. They never liked you either. Most of them abandoned you. And the only reason the ones that were left kept you around was because they enjoyed watching you fail. Your utter mediocrity made them feel better about themselves. Even now, some part of you is trying to blame this on luck. Because it's never your fault, is it? You were unlucky then, and you're unlucky now. But it has nothing to do with luck. Luck comes around, luck eventually turns. Yours never does. Because the only common denominator of all your "bad luck," all your incompetence, all your pathetic failures?
Is you.
Pat pressed himself back against the wall, eyes flitting from me, to the door behind me, and eventually the window.
Go ahead, try it.
I cast probability spiral on the window as Pat drove an elbow into the window.
It broke. Just not in the way he wanted. Three separate daggers of glass pinioned his arm in place at an awkward angle that was reminiscent of a frog on a dissection pad. He stared at it in shock as a small stream of blood began to descend the fogged glass.
Audrey wrapped herself around his legs, thorns biting into his thighs
Wait
No. I grabbed him roughly by the back of the neck and shoulder and shoved him towards the fractured pane. The rest of the window shattered, leaving several shards embedded in his arm. Pat caught himself on the glass littered windowsill, eyes widening to saucers as I pushed his head down towards it. He pushed upwards, fighting the movement, struggling without leverage as Audrey held his legs still. I yanked the bolt free and his arms gave out. He managed to shift his head to the side to protect his eyes as his grip broke, and I shoved his head down towards the waiting shards. It impacted with a crunch that was drawn out as I dragged his head viciously along the side and pulled him back in.
Pat fell back into the room, a long, deep gash blossoming red across his cheek. He dragged himself backward slowly on his one good elbow, his expression terrified. His wheeze was the byproduct of a rapidly deflating lung, Wait. Just wait. You want information, something. Anything. Selve, Lux, whatever you want, I can make it happen.
And that the only reason I was going for the knife, instead of the garrote, was that I wanted to.
Pat blinked out of existence.
I put my arms up at the last moment, barely managing to stop myself from running headfirst into the wall. A frustrated growl escaped my lips as I whirled, searching the room. He was gone.
Teleport?
My internal rage quieted immediately as I heard footsteps outside, sprinting towards the front of the building.
Escaping! Audrey shouted directly into my mind.
I vaulted through the window, skidding on broken glass and passed Audrey as I found myself back outside. I saw Pat sprinting towards the greater chaos, puzzling over his actions for just a moment before giving chase.
Hes not running up there to fight. Hes throwing in the towel completely. Abandoning the operation.
Pat downed a potion and risked a look over his shoulder. His expression twisted in desperation when he spotted me. He lowered his head and increased pace. The man was fast, but even with the potion, he was injured. Explosions boomed out as I sprinted after him, doing mental math. If he was going to avoid the chaos at the front, hed need to climb the surrounding fence. It wasnt particularly tall, but the iron slats were thin and slippery.
If I was in pristine condition, that would be it. I could use to shoot through the fence and end him. But the throbbing in my index fingermy trigger fingerwas an incessant reminder that this wasnt the case.
Id have to catch up to him on foot. The question was how. There was a reason he was booking it to the street. He probably had a vehicle. Any way you cut it, climbing the fence after him would slow me down too much to catch him before he reached the road.
The wheels in my mind started to turn as I saw a path.
I toggled the on and ran directly at the gate, leaping up on a retaining wall and running along its length until I reached the end. Then, I jumped, air whipping across my face and neck as the pointed iron slats of the fence reached up towards me, ready for the smallest miscalculation.
Then I was past them, hitting the ground hard and keeping my momentum in a roll.
Pat was further ahead of me than I expected. But it was doable. I could catch him.
That was when I saw Astria on her hands and knees, pale as a ghost, as her sister threw projectile after projectile at the storage center. If I hadnt seen it so recently, I might have mistaken it for cowardice, or exhaustionrather than the way a person looks when theyre near the end.
