The knocking turned to pounding. The whole door trembled, each impact rattling the walls, sending dust drifting from the ceiling. Jane pressed her back against the cold floor, heart hammering against her ribs.
They were breaking in.
She forced herself to think, to move. The window. The fire escape. Her only chance.
A sharp crack split the air - the lock snapping. The handle twisted violently. They were coming.
She scrambled to her feet, her fingers fumbling at the latch of the window. It was stiff, rusted, refusing to budge. Move, move, move! The door groaned, the wood splintering.
Then - it gave.
Boots thundered inside. Too late.
Jane wrenched the window open and climbed onto the fire escape. The metal groaned beneath her weight, the icy wind slicing through her skin. She didn't stop. Didn't breathe. Just moved.
The first man reached the window. Their eyes met. A gloved hand shot forward - almost caught her.
Jane jumped.
She hit the balcony below, pain jolting through her legs. A door. Unlocked. She tore inside, racing through the empty apartment, down a narrow hall - out.
She burst into the stairwell, feet pounding down the steps, their footsteps right behind her.
The chase had begun.