They climbed up the stairs without breaking rhythm, the boots setting a clean, unhurried cadence against the wet concrete.
The roar from below was a constant living, breathing thing now. It was becoming more muted with every step they took up, but the water continued to chase them, nipping at their heels. On the twentieth-floor landing, Sera raised a hand and the line stopped as one.
Not to catch their breath, but rather to see what was going on outside of the building.
Zubair stepped past her to the corridor door and tested the push bar with two fingers. It gave half an inch and stuck…swollen from the building's flex or the damp that had pressed its way into everything.
He leaned, then eased off; there was no point in forcing it into a racket. He looked to her.
Sera nodded once. "Window."
They followed her into the dim hallway, their footfalls absorbed by soaked carpets and peeled wallpaper.
