The intersection ahead was at a standstill. Cars had either crashed into one another, peeled away, or been ditched by their owners who were now fleeing on foot. Chaotic was the only way to describe the surging mob. "Not far, but far enough," he shouted back.
He felt her grab hold and grabbed hold in kind, wrapping a tendril of darkness around her hand and locking it there. He didn't care what she thought--he wasn't going to risk losing her in the crowd.
He forced his way through the crowd, pushing people out of his way, sometimes using small tendrils of darkness if people really weren't moving. They had to get off the street and out of this area. That was the priority. The sooner they did that, the better their chances of getting out alive.