For a moment, Dany hangs there, half-suspended. There is the sound of her pants tearing, as one leg snarls in the coil of wire. Then, hands grappling with the branch, she pushes off, and she is free.
The sound of her impact, when her body lands on the aluminum roof, is as loud as a gunshot. Dany lays utterly still, stunned. Her entire right side is a throb of pain and her lungs feel like they’ve collapsed. Pulling down her mask, she gulps at the stinking night air. But for long panicked seconds, she can’t draw a breath.
Finally, finally, she takes in her first breath of night air.
Dany curls up and breathes. Tentatively, she slides a hand over her throbbing side, but the roof is a tin drum and it creaks and groans with each movement. Below her, stirring to life, she hears the chic
