Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Five

Nick clenched his teeth against the throbbing in his shoulder as he hoisted himself over the low railing that separated the roof of one of the rear wings of the State House from the levered tiles that ran up toward the peak of the main building. The trek along the rooftops of the massive complex that extended back behind the State House—like the workings of some sort of reverse peacock, all the plumage up front, the utilitarian giblets hidden behind—had been mostly easy going up to this point, once they’d made it up the twenty feet of scaffolding to the top of the car park. But now that they were nearing the front of the structure, with its multiple eaves, slanted tiling, and columned balconies, each step had to be carefully chosen. One poorly placed foot could send him sliding the few feet to the edge—and beyond that, the fifty-foot drop to the ground below.

A scuffling sound from behind told him that Hailey had reached the railing as well, and he paused to offer what little help he could as she swung herself over to the slanted roofing next to him. Her backpack swung against her side at the motion, and he wished he could have carried it for her—but the only part of his right shoulder that didn’t hurt had gone worryingly numb. He’d kept as much of the pain that he was feeling away from Hailey, but as soon as this was over, he’d need to find a quiet source of medical attention.

It was a strange and unnerving sensation, getting shot. He knew he was lucky; he didn’t think the bullet had hit anything important, like bones or arteries, and he’d still been able to make short work of the scaffolding.

Nick’s plan had been simple from the start. Going in from the front, unnoticed, would have been impossible. The locked gate and the state troopers posed too many risks, and he and Hailey would have been exposed all the way to the courtyard where the bell was kept. But Nick had been breaking into places since he was fourteen. And there was always security to contend with, locks and bars and uniforms. Not usually troopers and police cruisers—but Nick had found, if you cased a target well enough, you’d always find a way in.

Or in this case, a way over.