The Indestructibles (Book 2): Breakout by Matthew Phillion Page A

agents. Kate couldn't make out his face, but he had the walk of a fighter, not a scientist, and was clearly heading for the suite.
          Kate turned and walked away.
          "Hey!" the agent yelled. "Hey! I need to talk to you."
          Kate turned, tapped an imaginary watch on her hand, and continued walking. The agent broke into a run, and Kate let him catch up just as she was passing a janitor's bucket and mop. She yanked the mop out, swept the agent's legs out from under him, and dumped the bucket of dirty, soapy water onto the linoleum floor.
          Then she started running.
          She went up, taking the stairs, headed for the roof. She could hear activity in the stairwell below, muffled voices and heavy footsteps. She reached the rooftop, pulling a short length of chain obviously kept there for a lowbrow security measure, and slammed the door behind her. She used the chain, which had a padlock hanging from it complete with key still in the lock itself, to fasten the door shut.
          And then she realized she was on the rooftop with nowhere to go.
          Forty-five seconds. That's how long it took someone to start banging on the rooftop door. She could hear a foot pounding against the door itself, trying to break the chain.
          Five seconds. The amount of time it took her to decide to jump off the roof and take her chances. Kate got a running start, not even bothering to remove the hazmat suit, and leapt over the edge of the building.
          Two seconds of hang time. Adrift in the air. Nothing to hold onto. Her grappling gun inside the suit, unreachable.
          Half a second. Two impossibly strong arms hooked under her armpits, radiating a strange and familiar heat, the world whipping by as she moved with incredible speed away from the hospital.
          "Tell me you got what you were looking for," Jane said.
          "It's a person," Kate said. "A human being is doing this."
         
    * * *
     
          It didn't occur to either Billy or Emily that arriving at Sam's apartment building in costume was a terrible idea. They landed at the foot of the front steps of his brownstone and exchanged awkward glances.
          "Well I mean, we're here," Emily said. "Do you want to go home and change?"
          "That seems like an incredible waste of effort."
          "Also we're famous."
          "Yeah," Billy said. He walked up to the front door, rang the buzzer, stepped back and waited.
          Emily ran out of patience first and leaned on the button. For a long time.
          Dude, are we able to jimmy locks with our powers? Billy thought.
          Jimmy locks?
          Breaking and entering. I mean I've done this before but I had tools and stuff, Billy thought.
          I have never tried it before, Dude said. Breaking and entering really has not been something I have needed to do before. It is not . . .
          Heroic?
          Practical.
          Can we blow the door off its hinges?
          Even less practical, Billy Case.
          I'm going to try blowing it off its hinges.
          I will not let you.
          Gawd you are such a party pooper.
          "Are you talking to your alien again?" Emily asked.
          "Yes. Trying to figure out if he'll stop me from exploding the door."
          Emily sighed and leaned her forearms on every single buzzer she could reach. The door unlocked.
          "Have you never done this before?" she asked.
          "I should have thought of that."
          "Stick with me, pumpkin, I'll make a crook out of you yet," Emily said, striding into the building like she lived there.
          Upstairs, they found a few days worth of mail piled outside Sam's door. Emily knocked, then knocked again, then pounded on the door with two small fists.
          "Oh my gawd he's had a heart attack," Emily said. "Open it!"
          "How?"
          "Blow it