The daring escape

My new room is a vast improvement over the previous one. At least, it has a bed, a window, and an attached bathroom. I'm still in the town hall's building, though, and on the third floor to boot. And the door outside is still locked.

The window is locked, too. But the hatch has a much simpler construction, and when I put my mind and a dozen minutes of fiddling with my switchblade into it, breaks. The night air outside is fresh and smells like hope.

I huddle into my hoodie. Hank returned it to me, but not the contents of its pockets. Not that it had any sort of rope that would help me climb out.

I look out of the window. There's a fire ladder just several feet away, and enough decorative ledges to, theoretically, just crawl to it. Theoretically. If I fail, I will have a closer meeting with the old pavement three stories below than I'd like.

Well, it's that or making rope out of bedsheets. I don't think there are enough bedsheets for this climb.

I look out of the window one more time. It's scary out there... And because of the insects, also noisy. But I know even without my intuition that staying in this den of madmen and cultists is not an option.

God, how did it come to this? My choices are between madmen and a literal monster that comes in nightmares. And for me, apparently, in visions as well. There's no doubt that the dark man is Noctis, and no matter what Hank told me, Noctis looks like he could be reasoned with. Even if his reasons are a complete mystery.

It's not intuition that makes me feel like I will be safer with him than with Hank and his men. No, it's something in his smile... almost soft.

I also want to ask him why did he call me a lock. No, a Lock, with the capital "L".

Therefore, I brave myself yet again, make sure nothing will fall out of my pockets, and carefully climb out to the cornice, feet forward. The wind immediately blows at me, making me grip harder at the window frame.

The moon gives enough light to see where I'm going, but barely so. The streetlights are all on the other, frontal side of the building. I only need to crawl about six feet to reach the fire ladder, but it will require moving from the cornice to the decorative ledge. And I will have nothing but the wall itself to hold on during the last few feet.

With my heart beating fast in my chest, I make a careful first step. Too bad the ledge is too narrow to crawl on four feet.

The first two steps are almost easy. Almost. Then I have to let go of the window frame with one hand, make a panic-inducing step to the ledge. Not looking down does nothing to help me with the fear of the fall.

I don't need to look to know that I'm dead if I make a wrong step!

My fingers grasp at the gaps between the old boards. It's all I can do to not lose my balance and tumble below. If I would press myself even harder into the wall, I would become the paint on it.

I inch towards the fire ladder slower than a snail, praying that no one curious walks below. And that the ledge doesn't break. At least there's been no rain.

When my fingers finally touch the fire ladder, I grasp onto it for dear life. My breathing is heavy from the adrenaline that seeks release. But I did this. The rest is much easier.

The ladder is old and rusted, but not old enough to break under my meager weight. I have to jump down the last few feet, but I land with nothing worse than a pain in my shins.

*What's next?*

Hank has taken my car keys, so I can't just drive to the nearest police station, which is not in Willow Creek. Judging by what I've seen yesterday, no person in this city will hide me from Hank's "society", either.

*Let the darkness guide you north,* I suddenly remember. I see no darkness beyond that of the night, but I remember where the north is from looking at the map when I drove here.

The only reason I begin briskly walking in that direction is that I really don't have any better options.

I am several houses away from the town hall when I hear some noises from its direction. When I turn, there are lights being lit in the windows and people are moving about within.

*Did they already notice my escape? Damn! I should've waited until everyone fell asleep or something!*

There's no time to think much longer about what I did wrong. I turn north and run. Run for dear life, because oh God, I'm afraid it's at stake. At first, they don't seem to know where I am—until they do. I only hope to reach the end of the town's (already shitty) roads before someone in a car reaches me.

I wheeze by the time I see the grass plain stretching in front of me. My legs burn, sweat covers my entire body, and if I turn to the town, I see approaching lights.

But there, amidst the grass, is a sight that gives me a second breath. An old ruin, barely visible as a black silhouette in front of the starry sky. Pure darkness.

I hear a shout from behind and jerk into the run again. Towards the ruin that, I know, will a burned down church will stand. Towards the monster of Willow Creek's nightmares.