Jessa Ch. 14

****

Jessa crept through the streets, hoping she was following a northward route. Random clouds were obscuring the stars she sought for direction, and she was weaving her way along, trying to likewise obscure her own path. She still saw cars about, but they were fewer and, with darkness on her side, somewhat easier to evade. With the dark, though, they had returned to some sort of search pattern that she couldn't parse so she was frustrated with the slow and careful pace of her progress. She finally picked out a taller building, that seemed somewhat sturdier than most of the ones around her, hoping that she could reach the roof where she would be able to see the way ahead and the edge of the old city, though it might mean waiting until the moon found a hole in the clouds.

She layered on even more care as she made her way toward the structure, hoping the men pursuing her would not come to the same conclusion she had, or at least not about the same building. When she reached it, she was pleased to discover that the wooden door was still intact, though hanging askew on rusty hinges. She took that as a sign of more sturdy construction. She searched out a back, utility staircase that was framed in metal, rather than wood, and began a cautious climb toward the roof. The building was six stories and she was heartened yet again that the staircase was solid even at the highest story. When she climbed the final, narrow flight to the roof access, however, it took her shoulder and a few swear words to budge the rusty steel door. The roof turned out to be another matter entirely. The rainwater downspouts had obviously plugged up years ago, and the heavy standing rainwater had broken through the roof in numerous places.

For long moments, Jessa stared in dismay at the distant roof edge and the obstacle course of holes and sagging roof between her and the edge. Slowly, though, her eyes began to pick out a pattern to the ruin, and she could make out rows of sturdier roofing where beams or girders ran from south edge to north. She gingerly circled the stairway access and then picked her way along a beam that ran behind it all the way to the north edge. A short brick wall, matching the façade, circled the edge around the circumference of the building and Jessa climbed onto it for an even better view, after checking the street below for any search vehicles. As she had feared, she was going to have to wait for the moon to find a hole in the clouds before she would be able to see much beyond the next few blocks.

She hissed in frustration and turned her search to the nearby streets, watching for cars. With their lights on, they were easier to see at a distance. Indeed, the City Forces vehicles had spotlights they were using, shining them into buildings and alleyways. As with others, she recognized their two-dimensional thinking. They never seemed to look up beyond the first story. She just didn't trust that Jacq would have the same limitations, since she had told him about climbing a fire escape to evade pursuit. Jessa jumped down off the short wall and settled to the rooftop, sitting with her back against the wall. That helped get her out of the chill north wind. When she had dressed that morning, that seemed like ages ago, she had put on her most comfortable running clothes. That had proved ideal for her flight through the city and even for her brief but icy swim across the river, but not so much now that she wasn't running to keep herself warm. Still her training had taught her how to ignore minor discomfort in pursuit of the win and right now, winning meant getting out of the city; into the countryside, where she could find people and therefore, food and clothing, even if she had to steal again. She wouldn't make the mistake of going someplace known again, or of trusting anybody. Maybe a fishing boat sturdy enough to make it to the Americas, she thought, as she watched the clouds pass in front of the faint glow of the moon. She didn't want to steal somebody's livelihood. Maybe she could send a note to Torah, beg him to forgive her and make it right by the fisherman.

She continued to pursue the thoughts of sailing across the North Atlantic as she rested and waited. She dredged her memories of long ago studies pertaining to weather and currents and winter seas, trying to determine what she would need, how long the trip would take. In her imagination, she could even hear the chugging of the boat's engine. Would it be gas powered? She realized she had no idea if modern fishing boats ran on gas or battery. The cruise ship they had taken on the North Sea - was it really only a couple of months ago - had run on batteries, but it had just been a short day trip. Jessa noted a gap in the clouds fast approaching the moon and she stood, not daring waste a moment of the precious light. That was when she realized the chugging was not in her imagination. She looked around with alarm, and there, in the distance she saw one of the rare helicopters. And it appeared to be searching for her, with a spotlight shining down onto the buildings below as it flew slowly in her general direction.

Jessa ducked back down behind the wall and thought frantically even as the moon shown forth, still nearly full. She cursed her running outfit now, with its white and light pink design. Against the dark rooftop, she would shine like a beacon. But if they had brought in a precious helicopter, they would certainly have thermal imaging equipment. Not even six stories of building might be enough to protect against that. And even if it were, how could she get inside the building without being seen? She eyed the nearest hole in the roof. She could jump down through that, but would risk landing on a floor that was even more decrepit than the roof, if indeed it still existed at all.

She peeked back over the edge of the wall. The helicopter was big enough to carry perhaps six people. They could all be looking right where the spotlight was shining, but that seemed pretty unlikely and not worth counting on. Still, she was sure she could make it to the stairs, even if she was spotted, and at least she knew the stairs were safe. She also knew she would be safer from the helicopter on the streets than on the roof. She jumped up and ran, retracing her footsteps, not daring to take her eyes from the precarious rooftop until she reached the stairwell bulkhead. When she looked over her shoulder, the helicopter had indeed veered her direction and sped up. Someone had been looking. Jessa swore under her breath as she circled the bulkhead. Then the sound of squealing tires rose up from the street below. And from somewhere not too distant, a siren echoed between buildings.

Jessa gave a quiet sob, but she had made her decision, now they would have to make theirs. She turned and ran back to the wall, leaping atop it even as the helicopter circled the building. Let them try to land, she thought, but they had seen the state of the roof and instead, circled back out over the street, staying just far enough away that the wash of the blades wouldn't endanger her balance. Jessa spotted the bars of a fire escape and made toward it along the wall. The helicopter pilot must have realized her goal, because suddenly it was there, hovering between her and the possible escape. Even as she debated jumping down to the roof and trying to crawl under the foot rails of the chopper, a car pulled up at the foot of the fire escape, disgorging its occupants.

Jessa backed away from the helicopter and it returned to hover over the street, giving her space, she supposed. She could almost imagine them trying to determine how hysterical she might be. Let them think they had a hysterical jumper on their hands. She knew better. She burned with determination. They would either leave her alone, disappear and drop their pursuit or she would choose death over whatever it was that they had chosen for her. When she began to close in on the corner of the building, what she had come to think of as her bargaining pulpit, the helicopter was suddenly there again, blocking her way, as if they could read her mind. Jessa looked down at the street. Let them think she was getting close to jumping, and indeed, the chopper backed off slightly, still protecting the corner of the wall, though. And now men were coming out of the stairwell. Jessa watched as one of them started directly toward her and fell through the weakened roof. She could take only dim pleasure in that, as the others, now forewarned, were spreading out and following the path of various beams. Jessa spread her legs and put her hands on her hips, watching their approach.

As they came closer, she could see that Jacq was to her right. He was watching her but motioning to the men with him, who seemed to be a mix of City Force and Jacq's. She had the one farthest to her left pegged as one of Jacq's since he seemed to take direction quickly and easily from a complex series of hand signals, whereas most of the rest were obviously trying to figure out more generic hand signals. For a few moments, there was a steady stream of them, until eight men had advanced on her position. One had been left at the stairwell to advise new arrivals where the safe parts of the roof were. Jessa easily recognized the tall, lean figure of Arnau arrive and listen with undisguised impatience as the roof terrain was explained. When he finally sidled sideways then advanced in her direction, she scowled and concentrated on Jacq, who was at the edge of the roof, next to the wall and creeping toward her every time her attention was diverted.

"Stop!" she commanded.

He obeyed, looking at her with a detached observation that didn't fool her a bit. She stared back at him fiercely. "Come down here and let's talk," he suggested calmly.

Jessa shook her head, using the opportunity to keep an eye on the man to her left. The rest had stopped back some distance. "I'm through talking. I told you. I'm taking control of my life now. And if that means ending it, then that's what I will do. You can leave or watch. I don't care."

"You know you don't mean that, Jessa," he said quietly.

"What part of what I told you earlier didn't you believe?" she asked. "Would you live like this? Hiding, fearing, denied the one thing that fulfills your life? Would you, Jacq?"

"You're being foolish," Arnau said from a short way in front of her. "Get down here."

She turned toward him as Jacq threw a scowl his way. Jessa noticed with interest that the man on the left seemed enthralled in something on the street below, but she wasn't going to be foolish enough to look down there. She turned her hard stare on Arnau. "What do you know from foolish? All you're interested in is fucking."

He spread his arms as well as he could with the splint on one. "There are worse preoccupations. You should find one to take up and stop acting like a spoiled brat. You think everyone else gets exactly the life they want? This isn't a fairy tale."

"Shut up or I'll break your other arm," she snarled.

Arnau stiffened and was on the verge of a retort when Jacq interjected, "Leave it, Arnau. When you've been what she's been through, then you can judge."

Jessa's eyebrows shot up. "So now I'm supposed to believe that you're on my side, Jacq? No one's on my side. Not you, not Torah, not my family. No one."

"We are on your side, Jessa. That's why we're here, trying to keep you alive. Someone out there is trying to kill you. I don't know who, and that pisses me off. And now here I am trying to keep you from doing it for them, instead of my job, which is finding out who they are and wiping them out of my city. So would you please just get down here and let's solve this thing together."

Jessa laughed bitterly. "Together? Since when has anybody included me in anything. You're all hellbent on keeping the truth from me. Well, you know what? I don't give a damn what the truth is anymore. I just want out of here, by whatever means necessary. So like I said, leave or..."

"Isn't that Torah?" the man to the left of her interrupted.

Despite herself, Jessa looked over her shoulder at the street below and that was all it took. Jacq went flying through the air, hooking an arm about her waist and pulling her off the ledge to the rooftop. Before they even landed, a shot rang out, impossibly loud in the quiet, dead city. Jessa heard a crash as she fought to pull away from Jacq. He had drawn his gun and was trying to roll the both of them so that he would be on top of her, both for protection and to hinder her struggles. As they rolled, she saw Arnau, laying on the roof. He had fallen toward them when a bullet had exploded out through the back of his head. Jessa screamed, watching as his body broke through the feeble roof, in slow motion sliding down into the dark depths of the next floor. But the slow motion disaster didn't stop there. The hole that opened under the weight of Arnau's falling body continued to spread, the edges crumbling inexorably toward her and Jacq. His arm squeezed around her, then his gun hand wrapped around her, too, as if he could stop their inevitable fall if only he held her tight enough.

Jessa gasped once as they began to fall. The moon chose that moment to break through the clouds and show her Arnau's body laying sprawled on the floor below surrounded by squares of ceiling tiles and decrepit insulation. She was conscious of the floor creaking, threatening to drop the body even deeper into the bowels of the building. She was aware of Jacq twisting in midair as they fell, trying to put himself between her and the floor rushing up at them. Through it all, he refused to release her, and Jessa felt more helpless than ever. Whatever little bit of control she'd gained over the last hours, or perhaps it was only the delusion of control, had been ripped from her yet again. Then she was aware of nothing but a screaming pain in her elbow before blackness enveloped her.

****

Jessa awoke slowly, painfully. Once again, her head was throbbing, but this time, the pain seemed centered in her temple, and when she gingerly reached for it, a shooting pain lanced through her elbow and she gasped. She rolled onto her back and tried the other arm with more success. It turned out both temple and elbow were bandaged, so apparently she wasn't laying in the guts of an old building anymore, though the room she was in was dark. She tried sitting up and, though aching everywhere, seemed reasonably intact. Once up, she realized she was in a hospital bed. There was IV tubing in her undamaged arm, but it wasn't hooked up to anything at the moment.

There was a rail on the side of the bed and she wrestled with it, trying to lower it. "Leave it be," a voice said and Jessa cringed. Torah. She spun around and spotted him, a faint outline against the dark window. She returned to wrestling with the rail on the far side of the bed. She had just gotten it lowered when he was there, in front of her, gripping her good arm and reaching for a soft light at the head of the bed. She hit at him with her other arm only to discover that her elbow had been immobilized and her fist fell uselessly against his stone-hard chest, not that reaching his jaw would have been much more effective. It did however send waves of pain through her elbow. She hissed in rage as she slid to her feet and tried again but he caught her wrist, gently but firmly and pressed her back against the bed.

"Why did you kill him?" she screamed. "I told you I handled it." She struggled in his grasp despite the pain that shot through her elbow and head.

"Who?" he asked calmly.

"Arnau, damn you! Why?"

"I only got into town about twenty minutes ago. I'm pretty sure I didn't kill him."

"What?" she said, finally pausing long enough to study his face. He was subdued and serious, but not the cold, unemotional persona she'd come to equate with his most lethal anger. "If you didn't kill him, then who did?"

"Jessa, that bullet was meant for you. The only reason it hit Arnau was because Jacq picked that moment to haul you down from that ludicrous stunt you were pulling."

"Stunt? That's what you think? That it was just a stunt?" She snarled, momentarily distracted.

He paused a long moment. "No." Jessa stared at him in disbelief. "Get back in the bed," he said. "The doctor wants you to rest. Please," he added as an afterthought.

Jessa sank back down onto the bed, but made no effort to lift her legs onto the surface. She continued to stare at him. "So, it was the man who killed Raza?" she asked, stunned back to the topic at hand.

Torah shrugged. "Him. A cohort. Someone else entirely." He looked at her sternly. "If you hadn't decided to go running all over town, perhaps we'd know by now. How is Jacq supposed to do his job when he's running around after you?"

"Why would somebody want to kill me?" she whispered, ignoring his reprimand. "I thought... I mean, the genetics, our children..."

"Hush." He said, pushing her back and lifting her legs onto the bed before pulling the covers back over her.

She shook her head in frustration. "You know, don't you? That every nineteenth child that we have will be special in some way. A way that has something to do with stem cells. If you know something more, please tell me!"

"Not here," he said with a shake of his head. "And not when you need to rest," he said, tugging at the sheets.

"I don't understand," Jessa protested, trying to sit up again. "Why aren't you mad at me? You're always mad at me."

He took her shoulder in a firm grip and pushed her back down on the bed. "Rest."

"Talk to me," she demanded, though she didn't try to sit up again.

He gazed solemnly down at her. "Because I almost lost you today. Four times. I'll get mad later. At least, about the times that were your fault."

"What?" She said, trying to rub her temples in confusion and only belatedly remembering the bandaging.

"That gymnastic trick balancing on the edge of a six-story building. And then making Jacq haul you down onto a rotten rooftop. I'm holding you responsible for that stupidity."

"Is Jacq okay?" She asked more quietly.

"He is."

'Torah?"

"What?" He had moved back to the window, keeping watch, though now, with the faint light in the room, he remained at the far edge, in deeper shadow.

"The reason I broke Arnau's arm? When he took me against my will..."

"Yes," he prompted, somewhat tersely.

She picked nervously at the hospital blanket. "There was a time before that, well, that wasn't against my will. I mean, I told him never again after that, but I... He..."

"Didn't listen. I know."

Jessa rubbed at her eyes. "I led him on, then changed my mind. It's my fault..."

"No," Torah responded sharply. "Some things are beyond your control. Arnau's sex drive was one of them."

"But he didn't deserve to die," she argued.

"No. That's why I didn't kill him."

Jessa stared at him in the dim light. It was like he was draped in a blanket of calm this night, when she was anything but. "Torah, what I did today?" He glanced at her then back to the street below. "I didn't do it to hurt you. Or even, really, to run away from you or from Jacq. But, I just can't go on like this. I can't live in fear, and I can't live in a cage. I will die, one way or another. Whether it is by jumping off a building or just withering away."

"It was never my intent to make you fear me," he said softly, yet with a hint of annoyance. "If you had only obeyed..."

"I know." When he glanced at her, she shrugged. "At least, I've come to believe that," she amended, with an apologetic smile. "I used to think nothing scared me. My mother would see me wrestling with my brothers or racing down steep hillsides and throw her hands in the air, while my father hid a proud smile from her. I'm strong, Torah."

"I know you are."