Free Rebirth of the Seer by Peter W. Dawes

wrapped Monica’s blanket around her body. The pounding had become more dire and vexed me just enough to inspire the compulsion to challenge Julian directly. We would not be exi ting through the hallway , though . This only left one avenue of escape.
    I barely completed the thought when the pounding ceas ed. A flicker of fear coursed through my veins like quicksilver, but the decision had been made ju st as soon as I managed to consider it. Grabbing the metal intravenous pole, I held it horizontal and charged for the window with all my might. The glass buckled and cracked, but failed to break and a second attempt merely made the fissures worse. Drawing a deep breath inward, I gritted my teeth and made one last vie for our escape, not bothering to even steal a glance downward to assess the leap I was about to make . Our time had expired and we could not afford to hesitate.
    I do not recall if I yelled when I slammed the metal into the glass again. T his time, shards of window showered downward, creating a berth too narrow, but a berth just the same. I beat on the edges again and again, causing more and more glass to spill on either side of the hole, until an expanse wide enough to accommodate us opened up before me. I f Julian yet stood on the other side of the door or had already started for the ground floor I had no way of knowing , but I could not chance it either way. Lifting Monica in my arms, I focused on the violated window and ran for the sky before us.
    Clearing the exit required me to duck my head and gather Monica tight against my body. Once we made it through, however, the world seemed to pau se for half a second. I weighed the distance between us and the ground, kicking my legs just as gravity propelled us toward the street. It would not have been the first time I sailed from such a height, but the injured girl in my arms required me to make a last-moment adjustment to how I bore the shock of impact. My knees buckled. Pinpricks of agony rocketed up my spine.
    But we landed safely just the same.
    A crowd of dazed mortals stared at us as I cast a quick glance back to the hospital. No sooner did I spy the exit than I saw Julian charge through the automated doors, his crossbow in hand. Wi thout bothering to study him further, I sprang upright and launched into a m ad dash, ignoring the ache radiating through my legs with each step I took. By the time I disappeared down a narrow street, it faded in the backdrop.
    We sprinted far faster than I ever recall running; even swifter – or so it seemed – than I had when I brought Monica to the hospital in the first place. Despite being weighed down by the limp body of my watcher, I wove thr ough alleyways and across busy streets to more concealed parts of the neighborhood. It had been years since I navigated the same roads , and yet it seemed the same collection of humans sat on their stoops enjoying the dying embers of the evening. I had been a mortal searching the cosmos back when I wandered these streets before. Now, I was praying for that very miracle Chloe had told me about.
    Unfortunately, The Fates made it clear our bid for safety would not be easy. As I turned down another street, I saw a figure headed for us, who had – in what may well have been an exhibition of sheer, dumb luck – managed to use the main thoroughfares to head us off . “Fuck.” I swiftly turned around and ran in the opposite direction of the seer giving chase. Julian, however, had closed the gap and the sound of a crossbow being fired reached my ears a few second s too late.
    I wove to the side and caught the bolt in the back of my left shoulder. Hissing with pain , the wound burned in a manner only explained by an infusion of silver, which could weaken me the longer it remained in my body. I dodged right, down anothe r narrow street, bare ly avoiding a car speeding toward us. The driver swerved and a group of pedestrians swore violently at both me and the vehicle, but failed to get much in