Heroes 'Til Curfew (Talent Chronicles #2) Read Online Free PDF Page B

the floor above it—it
was way complex. That alone would have been a strain, but the
stress of the whole night, the fight, the shock of Dylan’s
revelation, and, let’s face it, mostly the distraction of being
wrapped up in him, were splintering my attention and making it
harder. Drastic measures were called for.
    I purposely let some boards fall on the
cops, and let one narrowly miss Jeff’s head. That seemed to give
everyone a greater sense of urgency. There was a lot of unnecessary
yelling that cut into my brain like a saw, but at least they gave
up their on-site assessment and four of them lifted the pipes
aside. They worked quickly to get Jeff all braced and locked down,
and then got him out of there.
    As soon as they moved him, I let some more
stuff fall where he had lain, just for effect. Everyone seemed
properly motivated to get the hell out.
    Dylan heaved a sigh of relief that went
right down my neck and brought down some more of the ceiling.
Whatever that big piece of machinery was, it was coming down
soon.
    “Let’s get out of here,” he said, releasing
me, but still being careful to stay between me and the door. “Out
the window?”
    “Yeah.”
    He took my hand and I trusted him to lead me
to a large window that had lost all its glass a long time ago,
while I kept my eyes glued to the same spot. They burned, and my
vision had gone a little blurry. Dylan grabbed my waist and hoisted
me up on the wide, concrete sill, which made my eyes fly to his
face, even though there was nothing there to see. I couldn’t help
it.
    A huge conglomeration of metal parts crashed
down onto the cement floor, little chunks of rock and small machine
parts flying in all directions, as Dylan hoisted himself up onto
the ledge.
    “Oops,” he said.
    “Sorry. A little warning next time you’re
going to pick me up.”
    “Sorry. Let’s get out of here.” He looked
down at what seemed to me to be about a 10-foot drop. “Ladies
first?”
    Where we were perched was still structurally
sound, so I said, “Sure,” and leapt from the window. I heard the
horrendous noise of the cave-in behind me as I refocused on making
myself a cushion of air to break my fall. I felt the slight
resistance of my cushion taking the brunt of the landing before it
popped like a water balloon. I hit the ground, feet, knees,
hands.
    I rolled over in time to see
Dylan…rematerialize? He jumped down and I cushioned his landing
too, which seemed a little more graceful than mine.
    Smart of him to know I’d have to see him to
do that.
    That was all I had time to think because he
grabbed my hand and we were running through the woods that had
grown up around the abandoned factory district. Then we were out
and onto the street, only to be forced back into brush by the sight
of a patrol car. We doubled back and came out on a different
street, and there, too, a cop car was rolling down the hill. It
seemed like they were out in force, combing the area for any sign
of renegade Talents. Dylan pulled me back into the woods, and we
continued to run parallel to the river until we emerged in a more
upscale section of the riverfront area.
    It seemed to me that Dylan had way too much
energy. He was still holding my hand, and although I was exhausted
and my head was pounding, I’d be damned if he was going to have to
pull me along, even if I did have to take more steps to keep up
with his long legs. He dropped my hand and scaled a 6-foot
chain-link fence, vaulting over the top and down to the pavement
below without breaking stride. He turned back to me
expectantly.
    You have got to be kidding me.
    “Joss, come on! Need a boost?” He came back
to the fence like he was actually going to climb back over.
    Oh, hell no. I had my pride, after
all. “No, I don’t need a boost. I’m coming.” I stuck the toe of my
boot in the fence and started to climb. I turned at the top and
climbed down the other side because it just seemed easier on my
head than taking the impact of