Page 98 of Renegades

They must have. They were professionals. They wereactualsuperheroes. If they hadn’t found the kid yet, they would, any minute now.

But… what about the Librarian?

Nova exhaled, struggling to retain focus in the upheaval. To not lose sight of her priorities.

The Librarian was found out. He would be arrested the momentthey found him again, charged with illegal weapons dealing and conspiracy and who knew what else. Any hope of the Anarchists maintaining their connection to his distributors was gone.

Unless she could find him first. Unless she could somehow get him to safety. Maybe, just maybe, she could still right this sinking ship.

Gene Cronin was a coward. That’s what Ingrid had told her a dozen times. He would have run. He would be long gone by now, probably halfway to the city limits.

Wouldn’t he?

She massaged the back of her neck, uncertainty crowding her thoughts, when a series of explosions rumbled the foundation of the library. They were followed by the deafening creak of wood caving in on itself. The crowd pushed back as a cloud of black smoke spewed out from the windows and the massive hole in the lower wall.

Nova knew the explosions were from the stockpile of explosives in the basement, though she couldn’t be sure if there were more detonations still to come.

Then she heard the screams.

At first, she thought she was imagining it. A terrified echo coming from her still-scattered mind.

Someone shoved her from behind. The woman from before, crying, “Someone’s still in there! I heard them!Dosomething!”

And though it took all of Nova’s willpower not to turn around and yell at the woman todo somethingherself,she ignored the instinct and took off running—not into the library, but around the corner, sure the screams had come from the back.

No sooner had she rounded the far corner than she saw him. A kid, six or seven years old, hanging out of the second-story window. He had the collar of his shirt pulled up over his nose and even from down below she could see his panicked, bloodshot eyes.

Nova glanced in each direction, but there was nothing she could use to climb. No random ladder lying around, no convenient overgrown tree. She inspected the side of the building and, without giving herself a chance to overthink it, dug her fingers into the mortar of the stones and hauled herself upward.

She got only a few feet up the side of the building before her foot slipped and she crashed back to the ground, landing hard on her back. Overhead, the boy sobbed, his fingers clutching the sill of the window.

Nova got back to her feet, but another explosion rocked the ground, nearly knocking her over again. A window on the first floor had exploded outward, succumbing to the heat and pressure building up inside the library. Blinding orange flames roared inside, licking at the stone walls.

Nova shut her eyes, calculating the risks. Though it took only seconds to make the decision, it felt like an eternity.

Opening her eyes again, she reached into the compartment on her belt that held her handmade exothermic micro-flares. And, buried deep beneath them, her gloves.

Nightmare’s gloves.

She shoved her fingers into the black leather and strapped down the buckles, then pressed the switch that engaged the pressurized suction cups. Stomping forward, she leaped for the building, pressing her palms into the facade.

The suction held.

Nova started to climb. Press, stretch, release. Her toes grappling for purchase in the mortar. Her arms burning with exertion as she hauled herself higher and higher. Billows of smoke streamed up from the windows below, filling the air around her.

By the time she reached the window on the second story, herarms were ready to detach from her shoulders. But she made it inside, hauling herself in through the window and collapsing on the floor beside the child.

He stared down at her, lip trembling. “Help?” he said meekly.

She nodded. “Give me a second.”

One breath in. One breath out.

She sat up and staggered to her feet. This floor, too, was filling with smoke, though it wasn’t yet too thick to see. “Come on,” she said, wrapping an arm around the kid’s shoulders. He followed her without resistance through a series of archive rooms, until they reached the main staircase.

Nova drew up short, staring down toward the lobby. What had been the main lobby was now a sea of smoke and flames. The floor itself was smoldering and, even as she stared, the floor beneath the scholar statue in the vestibule gave out from the weight, collapsing in on itself.

Nova backed away, nudging the kid toward the wall.

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