Judge ran in the opposite direction of his truck. It was on the other side and would’ve left them open to more gunfire. Thank god he heard Michaels’ footsteps behind him. They tore up the parking lot, running full speed towards the back. Judge remembered seeing a break in the fence that would put them on a path that ran alongside the interstate; hopefully it would deter the thugs from following and creating a massive scene. Shots pinged off the concrete barrier separating the road from the sidewalk and ricocheted off the fences. Judge ducked and cursed. He lifted his own handgun and fired in the direction from which the bullets had come. When he got to the fence, he waited and let Michaels go through first. He’d rather get shot in the back than him. Michaels was quick and light on his feet. He got through the break in the fence with no problem and was covering Judge with return fire while he got his big body through the opening.
They didn’t hear anything else as they ran along the interstate. He wasn’t far behind Michaels and saw him pull his cell phone from his pocket. Oh no. “Don’t call 911!” he yelled, his voice drowned out by traffic noise. Shit.
Michaels cut to the left and ran towards a bridge that crossed over a small river. It was actually pretty smart thinking. The thugs wouldn’t think they’d leave the safety of the freeway. He chanced a glance behind him but he didn’t see anyone. That didn’t mean they weren’t there. He tried to pace his breathing as he ran hard to keep up. Michaels ran across a dark street and looked down where the road dropped to a bank. Michaels’ sharp blue eyes scanned all over, his phone still to his ear, his mouth moving fast. Judge watched him drop down into the shallow bank and he followed without question. It’d be impossible to see them there and their assailants wouldn’t think they’d gone that way.
Michaels led them to a small opening under the bridge and stood between two large stone posts that held the bridge’s support. Judge came and squeezed in behind him, the small gap in the posts barely giving them enough room. Judge stood behind Michaels, his chest right up against his back. There was no other way they could both fit. Michael still had his phone to his ear and his gun up and ready to fire as he snuck quick glances around the pillar.
It was brilliant. If the thugs did see them double back and come down the bank they couldn’t get to them without Michaels taking out each one as they approached. With them behind the large concrete columns it would be impossible to fire and hit them. He almost wanted to lean in and kiss the man’s sweaty neck for thinking fast.
Judge was trying to catch his breath and it appeared Michaels wasn’t even winded as he talked calmly into his phone. “The SUV is disabled just off of forty-one…. Uhn huh… no, we fuckin’ ran and they chased us… how am I supposed to know? I couldn’t recognize any of them, Syn. I was too busy trying not to get my ass shot off…. okay… okay. No we’re good. We’re under the Brickell Bridge, I think… alright… alright.” Michaels powered off his phone and tucked it back into his pants before he quickly peeked again. “Syn said to sit tight.”
“I don’t see anything,” Judge confirmed. “They didn’t see us come this way.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” Judge leaned his forehead against Michaels’ shoulder. Thank god Michaels’ crazy ass was okay. But of course he was; he was one hundred percent badass.
“Are you okay?” Michaels turned his head, looking Judge up and down.
“Yep. I’m good,” Judge huffed.
“Bookem!” Michaels’ eyes widened.
“He’s okay. He knows what to do.”
“Which is?”
“Stay down and shut up. If I need him, I’ll open the back gate and he’ll come out.”
“Are you sure?” Michaels genuinely looked worried, so Judge didn’t take offense.
“I’m positive. This is not our first time out in the field, Michaels. I’m often shot at, fought with, maced, whatever. Bookem stays put until I call for him and he knows not to draw attention. He’s been doing this since he was a pup, Michaels.”
Michaels released a slow exhale and leaned back into him. Judge put one hand on Michaels’ hip, letting him know that was okay. “He’s not a pup anymore, Judge.”
“I know,” Judge whispered.
They were silent for a while as they listened to the traffic crossing the bridge overhead. It was darker under there and he was glad for the cover. He finally asked, “What did you call in?”
“I just let Syn know we were on the run and if they had anything to hold Riggs on, now would be the time. I’m pretty sure those assholes had a shitload of unregistered weapons on them. If God could discretely send a few units over to catch ‘em, that should get them out of our way.”