FORTY-TWO
Hanson’s grip on the brickwork was precarious, sweat making it hard to hold tight as he edged along the windowsill, eyes on the drainpipe at the corner of the building. If he could just reach it, he would be able to swing around the corner and be out of sight before the freaks entered the councillor’s office.
A loud crack came from the room he had just left behind and he groaned when it was followed by a thud. The door was down. He took a deep breath and leapt for the drainpipe, slippery fingers scrambling for purchase. He hit the frame holding the pipe to the building and grabbed on with his fingertips, his feet finding toeholds in the bricks on either side.
He didn’t dare wait to get a better grip. Snarls and growls came from within the office and he knew it was only a matte
