White Night

Chapter 34

Pain exploded through his right side as Michael dropped his shoulder and crumpled, anything to avoid the pressure. The dressing and plastic cover were ripped aside and he felt warmth flowing again. It would bleed through his shirt in seconds.

Detective Ross stood up as the blood seeped through, and even with his jacket on, he knew Detective Connors had seen it.

She looked at him and cocked her head to the side, knowing she had him. As her hand moved for her hip, he knew what she was reaching for. Before she could stand, he kicked under the table and pushed the front of her chair up, flinging her over backward, her head smashing into the floor with a satisfying thud.

Racing sideways, Michael slammed into her partner, launching him back into the booths behind him, then bolted toward the rear door. Detective Ross grabbed his jacket, but he slipped out of it and darted into the night.

As he turned to get lost in the maze of streets outside the restaurant, Detective Ross smashed him into the wall of the building opposite. Michael twisted to face him but didn't get the chance. His head was whipped sideways by a heavy punch that sent him reeling and filled his mouth with the iron-tinged taste of blood.

Michael tangled his arms around the cop's, anything to stop another blow, and pushed back at him, but he was getting weaker as the pig leaned in harder. Blood clung to his teeth and swirled around his tongue. The detective's face was inches from his now. He started to twist Michael around, the first step to incarceration but Michael spat the contents of his mouth hard in the cop's face. Detective Ross recoiled, turning his blood-sprayed face away, and Michael grabbed the first solid object he could find from the garbage can beside them and swung hard at his head.

Ooomph was the sound as the pig stumbled backward. A good hit, but where was Detective Connors?

She was right there behind her partner. As she started to lift her gun, he swung Detective Ross between her and himself and pushed him backward into her. He was fighting for his life, and if they got him it was over.

Michael took off without looking back and darted around the corner. But there was nowhere to hide, only a straight lane with some dumpsters along it, and he wouldn't get halfway to the dumpsters before they shot him. He saw an old door to his right and barged through it with his good shoulder.

A warehouse with boxes and crates everywhere. Hide, then find a way out.

His legs were losing strength and his shoulder was soaked now. Weaving through the rows of crates, he grabbed a metal pry bar lying on top of one of the boxes and saw blood dripping onto the floor. He was leaving them a freaking trail! He grabbed a handful of packing material to stop the dripping, but it fell apart in his hand.

The door to the warehouse opened.

They were here...