Chapter 89: On the Ninth Floor

"Is he out of his mind? He’s trying to climb the wall."

"That’s 10 floors of brick. He’s going to fall."

"In dress shoes? Somebody stop him before he gets past the 2nd floor."

Nobody on the ground thought he had a realistic chance of reaching the 10th floor. Scaling an urban high-rise barehanded didn’t happen in real life, especially on flat concrete and brick.

Near the planter, Eleanor Grant dropped her grocery tote, her face pale.

"Jude, get down from there," Eleanor called out, taking a step toward the wall. "Wait for the fire truck!"

Beside her, Mrs. Song shook her head, her tone sharp. "What is he doing?! Thinks he can do whatever he wants because of that car. Throwing himself into danger to show off... Eleanor, this is completely reckless."

15 feet up, Jude ignored the shouting below.

Hanging from the 1st-floor window frame, he pulled his weight up with smooth momentum, catching the upper stone ledge.

With a controlled push through his shoulders, he stepped both feet onto the narrow 3-inch sill above the window. The movement was clean and fluid, cutting through the noise below.

"Look at that balance," someone in the crowd noted. "He knows what he’s doing."

Jude looked upward, checking the layout.

Between the top of the 1st floor and the sill of the 2nd stretched a 7-foot section of flat masonry with no decorative trim or pipes. The only feature was a square concrete support column running beside the window line.

"There’s no handhold between the 1st and 2nd floors," an older resident said. "He’s stuck."

From the 10th floor, the child’s cries continued down into the courtyard.

Jude didn’t hesitate. Pushing off the sill, he lunged across the 4-foot gap to the concrete pillar, clamping both hands around the 90-degree corners to arrest his momentum.

Driving his feet upward in rapid, steady strides, he cleared the 7-foot dead zone, kicked off the pillar, and landed on the 2nd-floor ledge.

Where his fingers had gripped the concrete column, clean indentations remained pressed into the cured stone, giving him purchase.

Without pausing, Jude jumped back onto the column, moving past the 3rd floor, then the 4th, then the 5th...

He climbed with speed, passing the 6th and 7th floors and reaching the 8th-floor sill in seconds.

The courtyard below went completely quiet. 40 people stood frozen, looking straight up at the 8th floor.

"Did he just clear 80 feet in 10 seconds?"

"How is he moving that fast?"

Eleanor stood with her hands over her mouth, watching him climb.

Beside her, Mrs. Song fell silent, her complaints dying out as the entire plaza watched Jude clear floor after floor.

Siren blasts echoed from the street, followed by boots running through the gate.

Blocked by parked cars along the narrow drive, an FDNY crew came through on foot carrying tools and an inflatable catch net.

Running beside the battalion chief, her badge visible at her belt, was Lieutenant Lola Grant.

Having arrived at the gate just behind the engine, Lola had sprinted toward Building 11 the moment she heard a child was hanging from the window.

As the team entered the courtyard and looked up, they stopped in their tracks.

90 feet up, a figure in a white dress shirt was moving up the bare column between the 8th and 9th floors without ropes or gear.

The firefighters stared upward in disbelief.

Lola’s breath caught as she recognized the silhouette against the brick. "Jude?"

On the wall, Jude pulled himself toward the 9th-floor sill, planting his right hand onto the corner of the masonry.

Putting too much force into the weathered stone, a 20-pound section of concrete broke loose under his grip, and his right arm swung back into the air.

Shouts rose from the crowd below.

Jude stayed focused. His left hand drove straight into the concrete column, anchoring his weight securely as his right hand released the broken piece and gripped the ledge above.

The chunk of concrete hit the flagstones below, breaking into dust against the pavement.

Jude glanced down briefly toward the crowd. "All good. Edge gave way."

Down in the plaza, relief swept through the group, but Lola’s eyes stayed fixed on the 9th floor.

Looking closely at the column, she noticed the deep indentations in the stone where he had anchored his grip.

He hadn’t just held the ledge; his fingers had driven straight into the masonry.

Above him, a snap sounded from the 10th-floor window.

The crossbar broke free, and the toddler slipped through the bent bars, falling into open air.

________

A young woman carrying groceries turned into the courtyard walkway just as shouting erupted from the plaza outside Building 11.

She lived in Apartment 10B. 20 minutes earlier, with her 3-year-old asleep in his crib, she had stepped out to the corner market, locking the deadbolt behind her.

Looking up, she saw her son falling from the 10th-floor window sill.

A scream tore from her throat. She dropped her bags onto the pavement and collapsed as neighbors rushed to catch her.

In the courtyard, people looked away.

90 feet up, Jude was already moving. Positioned on the column just below the 9th floor when the rusted bar gave way, Jude pushed off the concrete face, lunging into the open air.

His left arm hooked around the child’s torso, pulling him against his chest to absorb the momentum.

Dropping 4 feet onto the stone sill of the 9th floor, his feet found purchase on the narrow ledge while his right hand locked onto the window casing.

The boy pressed his face into Jude’s shirt, drawing in a sharp breath before crying at the top of his lungs.

Down in the courtyard, the silence broke immediately.

"He caught him!" someone shouted from the pavement.

"Look at that ledge... he got both feet down!"

Cheers and applause echoed across the courtyard as neighbors exhaled in relief.

Below, the FDNY crew moved their extension ladder toward the wall, raising it against the 8th floor.

Standing on the ledge with one arm around the boy, Jude looked down at the crew.

He could have climbed down the column himself, but with dozens of phones pointed up from the plaza, taking the ladder was the practical choice.

When the ladder locked into place near the 8th-floor sill, Jude stepped across to the rungs and carried the child down at a steady pace.

Near the base of the wall, Lola Grant watched him step off the ladder...