Chapter 5 - The Midnight Run
The rain fell in sheets, cold and unforgiving against the black pavement of the precinct alleyway. Miller sprinted toward his personal truck parked behind the dumpster corral, his breathing ragged, his lungs burning from the chemical fumes. In his arms, Liam was crying silently, his small face buried against Miller’s damp neck, his little arms locked around the officer’s collar with vice-like strength.
""Daddy..."" the boy whimpered over and over. ""Daddy...""
""Hold on to me, Liam,"" Miller said between heavy gasps. He threw open the driver-side door of his battered Ford F-150, tossed the boy onto the bench seat, and climbed in behind him. The engine turned over with a rough, vibrating roar just as two cruiser headlights swept into the mouth of the alley.
Miller didn't turn on his lights. He slammed the gearshift into reverse, tires screeching against wet asphalt, before throwing the truck into drive and ripping through the gravel drainage ditch onto the county bypass road.
In the rear-view mirror, red and blue strobe lights erupted across the municipal compound. Sirens began their mournful wail, echoing across the valley.
""Did they hurt him?"" Liam asked, pulling himself up onto his knees on the passenger seat, his eyes wide with uncontainable terror. ""Officer Miller, did that man shoot my daddy?""
Miller gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned bone-white. The sound of that second gunshot rang in his ears like a permanent bell. He had seen Marcus take Graves down, but Graves was armed, armored, and ruthless. A condemned prisoner shot during a declared emergency escape wouldn't even warrant an independent autopsy under Vance’s jurisdiction.
""Your dad is the toughest soldier I’ve ever met, Liam,"" Miller lied, his voice thick with unshed emotion. ""He held that man off so we could get this picture to safety. Do you understand? This picture is the only thing that can save him.""
Liam looked down at his soaked hand. The polaroid was crumpled, the edges torn, but the image remained legible under the dashboard’s faint green illumination: Deputy Chief Vance loading the evidence crates.
Miller pulled a burner phone from his glove compartment, dialing a number he hadn't called in four years. It rang once, twice, three times.
""Speak,"" an elderly woman's voice answered, razor-sharp despite the hour.
""Judge Alvarez,"" Miller said, voice shaking. ""It’s Miller. Marcus Vance was just framed for a jailbreak, and his son is sitting in my truck with the evidence that clears him. We need a secure room right now.""
May you like
On the other end of the line, there was a long pause. When the retired district judge spoke again, her voice was ice.
""Miller, don't bring that child to my house. Deputy Chief Vance’s cruisers are already parked outside my driveway.""
