Chapter 7 - The Diversion
Gunfire erupted, muffled by suppressors into heavy thuds against the concrete walls. Concrete dust exploded near Mark’s boots as he vaulted over a low retaining wall into the adjacent drainage ditch.
He didn't look back. Every ounce of his focus was locked on leading the headlights away from Sarah and his dying daughter. Cold, stagnant rainwater soaked through his pants as he scrambled down the concrete culvert that ran beneath the city parkway. Behind him, boots pounded the gravel in relentless pursuit.
"He's heading toward the canal!" a voice shouted in the dark.
Mark scrambled up the muddy embankment, his lungs burning with icy air. He reached into his coat pocket, pulling out the tracking chip he had snatched from Gable's hand before the chaos started. The red LED was still burning a vicious, steady crimson. He realized with dread that the chip wasn't just a receiver; it was an active beacon broadcasting their coordinates to a satellite uplink.
He hurled the transponder into the bed of a speeding freight truck rattling across the overpass. The truck hauled away toward the interstate, carrying the tracker with it.
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Mark collapsed into the bushes, catching his breath. But as he turned back toward the hospital district, headlights flickered from an unexpected angle. A second vehicle had stayed behind. They hadn't fallen for the bait.
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