closed behind her. Sweat immediately beaded across her brow and nape. The oppressive heat made it hard to breathe, and every inhale filled her mouth with the taste of ash and soot.
Knowing where that ash came from made her gag again.
Mackenna rose out of her crouch to stand in the center of the stack and placed her hands on either side of the opening. Hissing, she immediately jerked back when the heated metal burned her palms. She’d never expected her escape to be easy, but it honestly felt like the entire universe was against her.
It was going to hurt, but there was no turning back now.
Gritting her teeth against the pain, she pressed her hands against the sides again and hoisted herself into the chimney. Her skin sizzled where it touched the sleek metal, the pain raw and intense. As she climbed, her muscles shook, her meager energy stores rapidly depleting with each passing minute.
Adrenaline ebbed and flowed, giving her brief respites before the pain of her burning flesh returned twofold. Her hands and feet became slick as the blisters burst, making it even more difficult to find purchase.
She kept climbing.
Eventually, the air cleared. The stench of death lessened. Cold wind swept down into the stack, blowing across her face. Almost there. Only a few more feet, and she’d be that much closer to freedom.
A ragged sob tore from her throat when her fingers finally gripped the lip of the chimney. Her entire body screamed in protest as she heaved herself out of the stack and over the edge, but she’d made it. Sprawled on her back, the asphalt shingles of the roof scraping against her scorched skin, she stared up at the stars as she struggled to catch her breath.
There was no time to rest. No time to recover. Soon, they’d discover she was missing, and she needed to be as far away from the compound as she could get before that happened.
Forcing herself to move, she crawled to the edge of the roof and stared over the side, analyzing the twenty-foot drop. It had stormed recently, but most of the fluffy white snow had melted now, leaving only frozen mud to cushion her fall. She’d probably survive the drop, but the odds of breaking a leg—or worse—seemed pretty high.
There were no rain gutters, no balcony or trellises for her to climb down. Frustrated, she crawled to the back side of the building, looking for another way to the ground. Finally, luck was with her. While the snow had melted on the north side of the building, a sizeable drift still remained on the south side. It wouldn’t be like jumping into a pillow, but currently, it was her best option.
Crouched on the edge of the roof like a stone gargoyle, she clenched her aching hands at her sides and counted to three before launching off her perch. The fall seemed to last forever, and as she’d suspected, the snow provided minimal cushioning for her landing.
Her legs buckled upon impact, and she crashed into the ground with enough force to knock the breath from her lungs. Dazed from the impact, she laid there shivering in the snow for several seconds before she could even think about moving.
The cut on her neck still bled. Her blistered skin wasn’t healing, and she’d picked up a few more abrasions from her trek across the rooftop. She was pretty sure she’d sprained her knee and possibly fractured a rib in the jump. Thankfully, nothing appeared to be broken.
Thank the goddess for small miracles.
She had to keep moving, though. Get up, Mack. Get up.
Through sheer force of will, she managed to find her feet, but it wasn’t without difficulty. Her entire body screamed in protest at the exertion, and her vision repeatedly blurred and sharpened as she staggered into the dense forest that surrounded the compound. Her legs shook, and her knees buckled twice, but she kept moving, putting one foot in front of the other, over and over.
Frigid winds howled through the trees, bending branches and scattering dead leaves across the forest floor. Overhead, wisps of clouds alight with silver moonlight tumbled across the sky. Small animals scurried around her, tracking her progress through the woods.
Navigating on autopilot, she didn’t know how long she staggered through the forest. It could have been minutes or hours, but eventually, the trees began to thin, and the scents around her started to change.
There was a road nearby, a quarter mile, maybe less. She couldn’t see it,