Unmarked

56. Death or Death

The smell of burning paper fills the air. The two large piles of books I've set alight, one in front of each door, are rapidly growing into large crackling fires meaning no one will hear me smashing the glass. It will also hopefully delay them in figuring out I've escaped.

Peering out of the window, I calculate my chances of reaching the ground intact. Not good but worth the risk. See, Grey, I do take risks.

My plan of jumping or rather jumping several times from window ledge to window ledge is going to test my complete lack of gymnastic abilities.

Smoke fills the room, seeping into my lungs, clawing away much needed oxygen. The increasing plumes of smoke thicken; black dark clouds crawl along the ceiling as heat licks at my back. No fire alarm or warning sounds. Shouldn't they have smoke detectors or something?

I hit my elbow into the windowpane, focusing on the corner which is meant to be the weakest part, over and over with as much force as I can muster but nothing happens. Shit.

Searching the smokey space around me is made harder by my watering eyes stinging from the fumes and the intense heat melting the clothing to my skin.

I ignore the rattling of both the doors as I grab one of the gold metal circles hanging on the wall, The State's wholesome symbol. It's all a joke.

The hot metal feels heavy in my hands as I swing it with as much force as I can exert at the corner of the window. A crack reverberates loudly as glass shatters. I scramble to the edge of the window, the scorching air behind me means I don't check how many people are watching. I don't take my time to plan my route down. All I care about is escaping the searing heat, finding some much needed oxygen.

Jagged pieces of glass jutting out of the window frame cut into my skin as I crawl out onto the ledge. Nausea sweeps over me as I gaze down at the ground; one part of me is screaming to go back into the building, risk the fire and Officials rather than attempt to jump to the wider ledge below because if I miss, I'm as good as dead.

Another risk see, Grey? Except, this was definitely not the type he was referring to.

Shaking uncontrollably, I hear voices behind me and without thinking I jump. My arms flaying, I hit the ledge below hard. It worked, I didn't miss. I scramble to the edge and jump again, hitting the next ledge with a thump.

Voices shout, sirens ring filling me with panic. I jump and hit the next ledge but I'm losing balance, my feet slip and I'm clawing at emptiness. I reach out, my fingers brush the edge of something hard, it tears my skin and nails. For a moment, I'm slowing down as though I'm clinging on before it's lost and I'm falling again.

Impacting against the ground, I'm slammed to a stop; pain explodes along the left side of my body.

Muffled voices around me get closer. Sparks of black, red and white impair my vision. My leg and arm throb with paralysing agony and it's impossible to focus on my surroundings. Groaning, I try to stand but my left arm won't cooperate and my left leg buckles underneath me causing me to cry out as I crash to the floor.

A crowd of people gather around me. I need to get out of here but every movement results in a cascade of unbearable pain and my body refuses to budge.

"An ambulance is on it's way," Someone says.

"No..." I croak. Hands secure my shoulders and I try to wriggle free.

"She's my daughter. I'll take it from here," A familiar voice says.

Gazing up, I see a blurred Jas bending down, wrapping his arms around my waist he pulls me up to standing. I try to support some of my weight on my right leg and move with him, it's pointless. Jas carries me or maybe dragging would be a more suitable description.