Seventy-Four
Jackson slammed against the door to the roof, hands grasping for the handle. Locked.
The construction workers crowded at his back.
‘Move back,’ he roared, lining up his shoulder and smashing into the door. It rocked on its hinges but didn’t open. He hit it again and again, his shoulder going numb.
‘They’re right behind us,’ said Hanson as he raced up the final stairs. ‘Hurry up and get that door open.’
‘I’m trying.’ Teeth gritted, Jackson slammed into the door. The hinges gave way, the door collapsing forward, and his momentum carried him through, sending him sprawling on the roof. The others piled through the doorway after him.
‘Jackson.’ At Justice’s shout, he looked over to where she and the others stood on the edge of the roof in the metal cage built over the end of
