The Decaying World Saga (Book 1): Tribes of Decay by Michael W. Garza Page B

staircase bent back in the opposite direction.
    Rowan would have tried one of the wide doors between floors, but Mia was too far ahead of him to stop her. The sounds echoing up the staircase confirmed that their pursuers were closing in. He pushed himself until his legs ached and his lungs burnt. He reached the top floor and found Mia pushing on a door with all her strength.
    “It’s locked,” she said then ran to the banister and took a glimpse at the stairs all the way down to the ground floor. Her face told Rowan all he needed to know. He started kicking on the door and she pulled him away. “Up there.”
    Mia pointed at a ladder bolted to the wall, ending at a hatchway. Rowan pushed past her and started up. She climbed on behind him as howls boomed up the stairs toward them. He slammed his shoulder into the underside of the hatch before he caught sight of the rusty lock holding it in place.
    “Go.”
    Mia pushed up on his butt as she shouted frantically. Rowan heard the clear sound of stomping feet closing in and the rising panic consumed him. He smashed his shoulder into the underside of the hatch, banging his head on the metal plate in the process. The hatch dinted from the hit, but the lock wouldn’t give. Rowan slammed into it again and didn’t stop until the thin metal bent down the center. It took two more strikes before the ring holding onto the lock snapped and the entire top flipped up through the breach.
    Rowan pushed into the tight opening and reached back down to help Mia up. They were standing on the roof and a desperate search didn’t produce anything that might aid in their escape. Mia rushed off to the far edge of the building overlooking the entryway while Rowan focused on the stairs. She was yelling something at him when he saw a figure round the last stairwell landing.
    “What?”
    He glanced back and was stunned to find Mia having a conversation with someone. She waved him over and he abandoned his view as the full group of pursuers started up the stairs toward the ladder.
    “We’re not looking to cause any trouble,” Mia said.
    The new arrival was standing on the roof of the adjacent building. He wore a long black coat over a haggard shirt and dirty britches. Most of his face was hidden under a mess of unkempt facial hair as gray as ash and topped by the wide brim of a floppy hat.
    “We don’t have time for this,” Rowan said, pulling on Mia’s arm.
    She yanked away and kept pleading. Rowan didn’t understand her insistence until he looked out over the distance between the buildings and then spotted the long plank of wood the man was resting one of his boots on.
    “You’re the wanderer,” he said after a sudden recognition. “We were looking for you.”
    The assertion appeared to grab the man’s attention.
    “Why?” he asked, in a gruff voice.
    “We found something,” Mia said, her heightened nerves evident in her rising volume. “Something from the old world.”
    He studied the duo as if their facial expressions might give them away.
    “What did you find?”
    Rowan’s hands shook violently as he dug through his pack. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw someone pulling themselves up through the hatch from the floor below. Rowan held up the device and showed it. Mia turned to face the coming attack, holding her knife out in defense. Rowan didn’t give up; he held the device up like a piece offering for the wanderer to see.
    “Hurry up,” the wanderer said at last.
    Rowan forced Mia up on the ledge and the moment the end of the plank hit the concrete edge, she was moving. Rowan couldn’t wait. A quick count told him at least three of their pursuers had reached the roof and were heading in their direction. The plank shook the moment his boots touched the wood and Mia had to throw her arms out wide to keep herself balanced. She managed a nasty glare over her shoulder before rushing across the rest of the way.
    “Move your ass!”
    The wanderer shouted then grabbed his end