Chapter 7
The sudden pitch-black darkness was shattered only by the erratic, pulsing flashes of the police cruiser's red-and-blue strobes bleeding through the diner windows. In the strobe-lit gloom, chaos erupted instantly. The heavy officer’s grip on Julian’s shoulder slipped as Julian dropped his center of gravity, spinning hard and driving his elbow backward into the man's ribs with a muffled grunt of impact.
"What the hell? Who cut the power?" the second officer shouted, fumbling frantically for his flashlight as furniture scraped loudly against the linoleum floor.
Across the room, Arthur’s voice cut through the confusion, sharp and panicked. "Grab him! Don't let him get to the car!"
Julian didn't hesitate. Adrenaline surged through his veins, dulling the throbbing pain of his bruised eye. In the strobe-lit flashes, he spotted the open kitchen door behind the counter. He vaulted over the low partition, sending plastic condiment dispensers flying, and sprinted down the darkened hallway toward the rear exit.
Footsteps slammed heavily behind him. "Stop right there, or I will use lethal force!" the taller officer roared, his voice echoing off the tiled walls.
Julian threw his shoulder against the heavy metal back door, bursting out into the torrential downpour of the alleyway. The cold rain hit him like a physical wall, but he kept moving, splashing through puddles as he rounded the corner of the building toward the front parking lot. His only thought was Clara. If the power had gone out, the car's automatic door locks might have reset, leaving her completely exposed to whoever Arthur had waiting in the shadows.
As he sprinted around the front of the diner, the sight that met his eyes made his heart stop.
The police cruiser's engine was idling, its lights flashing, but the driver’s side door hung wide open. The second officer was lying facedown in the gravelly mud beside the vehicle, completely motionless. And parked right behind his sedan was a sleek, black unmarked SUV with its headlights off, its passenger door open.
A masked figure was leaning into the back seat of Julian’s car.
"Clara!" Julian screamed, abandoning all caution as he charged across the open parking lot like a freight train.
The figure turned sharply at the shout, dragging a terrified, sobbing Clara out of the back seat. The little girl’s screams pierced the night air, high and desperate.
"Daddy!" Clara cried out, thrashing against her captor's grip.
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Julian launched himself through the air, tackling the masked man violently to the wet pavement. They rolled across the gravel, fists flying in the mud. Julian pounded his fists into the man’s chest, driven by a primal, terrifying rage, until a heavy hand gripped the back of his collar, jerking him violently backward.
Julian spun around, ready to strike, but froze. Standing over him in the blinding rain, holding a dripping black umbrella, was Marcus. And behind Marcus, stepping out from the shadows of the unmarked SUV with a smoking pistol in his hand, was someone Julian never expected to see again in this lifetime.
