Chapter 12 - The Escape Attempt
“Get back! Everyone behind the rescue truck right now!” Detective Vance roared, unholstering his service weapon in a single fluid motion and taking cover behind the reinforced door of the vehicle.
Marcus instantly grabbed Elena and Grandmother Beatrice, shoving them safely into the back of the rescue truck alongside the medical supplies while drawing his own improvised wooden stake for defense.
The black SUV roared into the clearing with tires spinning furiously in the deep snow, showering the forensic equipment with a spray of ice and dirt. The vehicle skidded violently sideways before slamming to a dead stop mere feet from the open excavation trench.
The driver-side door flew open.
Julian stepped out into the freezing wind. He wasn't wearing handcuffs anymore. In fact, his wrists were completely free, dangling a pair of broken steel cuffs that had been snapped apart with brutal leverage. In his right hand, he held a heavy police-issue Glock pistol he had clearly managed to strip from one of the transport guards during the chaos in the dark vehicle.
“Nobody move an inch!” Julian screamed over the howling wind, his face twisted into a mask of pure, unadulterated rage. His eyes were wild, bloodshot, and completely devoid of sanity.
Detective Vance leaned out from behind the rescue truck door, aiming his service weapon directly at Julian’s chest. “Drop the weapon, Julian! You’re completely surrounded, and there’s nowhere left to run!”
“Surrounded?” Julian laughed maniacally, the sound echoing chillingly across the snowy canyon. He raised the pistol, pointing it directly at the windshield of the rescue truck where Elena was hiding. “I own this mountain! My father built this empire on blood and silence, and I’m finishing what he started!”
“Where are the troopers, Julian?” Vance demanded, keeping his steady aim locked on the suspect. “What did you do to them?”
“They’re taking a little nap in the back of the SUV,” Julian smiled coldly, his finger tightening slightly on the trigger of the stolen pistol. “They weren't as cooperative as I hoped. A little blunt force trauma goes a long way in a snowstorm.”
Elena pushed past Marcus in the back of the truck, sticking her head out of the door to face Julian directly. She wasn't shaking anymore; raw, blinding fury had completely replaced her fear.
“You’re a coward, Julian!” Elena shouted, her voice cutting sharply through the wind. “You hide behind locked boxes and dead bodies because you’re terrified everyone will see what a pathetic, small-man you really are!”
Julian’s face purpled with incandescent rage. He whipped his gun around, aiming squarely at Elena’s chest. “Shut your mouth, Elena! You were supposed to be my wife! You were supposed to be safe!”
“I would rather die in this snow than spend one more second breathing your air!” Elena yelled back defiantly.
Julian screamed in fury and pulled the trigger.
Click.
The firing pin struck empty space. The gun was completely out of ammunition.
Julian stared down at the pistol in absolute shock for a split second before realizing he had been tricked into wasting his last rounds.
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Before he could drop the gun and reach for his hunting knife, a blinding flash of orange light erupted from the woods beside the access road.
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