Chapter 22 · Untitled Chapter

"Move!" I shoved Sienna toward the service stairs.

She hit the wall, caught herself, and spun on me. "You don't know what you're—"

"Shut up and run."

Smoke poured under the gallery door behind us. The alarms screamed. Through the narrow window, flames climbed the west wall, orange and fast.

Sienna's timer hovered above her head.

Four hours, thirty-two minutes.

Still ticking.

"They set the fire," she said.

"Yeah. Marcus got tired of waiting."

I yanked open the stairwell door. Burnt plastic scraped my throat. Sienna coughed as we plunged down, my hand locked around her shoulder.

Two floors. Three.

Footsteps echoed below us.

"Up," I said.

Her eyes widened. "The fire's up."

"The guns are down. Move."

We turned around and climbed. My legs started burning by the fourth floor. Smoke pushed down the stairwell in thick gray sheets.

Sienna bent over, coughing hard.

"Keep going."

"I can't."

"You can, or they catch us. Pick one."

I dragged her up another flight. Voices rose from below.

"Sixth floor!" a man shouted. "Check the roof access!"

We hit the landing.