Episode 9
The driver standing in the glare of the headlights was David Miller.
Julian’s grip on the iron crowbar tightened until his knuckles turned white. His blood ran hot with a volatile mix of rage and confusion. David was supposed to be in a police transport vehicle, cuffed and headed for a federal holding cell. Instead, the "holy" pastor stood there, his pristine white collar gone, his shirt stained with dirt and grease, and a hollow, desperate look in his eyes.
David didn't have a weapon in his hands. He looked frantic, his eyes scanning the dark brush line until they locked onto Julian’s shadow.
"Julian... Leo..." David called out, his voice cracked and trembling, entirely stripped of his usual booming, arrogant pulpit delivery. "I know you're there. You have to get in. Now."
Julian stepped out of the brush, keeping his body positioned firmly in front of Leo, the crowbar raised. "Don't move, David. How are you out? Where is Mary?"
"Mary is gone! The Syndicate... they didn't try to bail us out, Julian, they tried to silence us!" David took a terrified step forward, holding his hands up in surrender. "The police transport was ambushed three miles from the courthouse. Men in masks. They shot the guards. They shot Mary right in front of me because she panicked and screamed. I only escaped because I scrambled out the broken back window into the ditch. This truck belongs to a farmer down the road."
Leo peeked out from behind Julian's waist, his small face pale. "You hurt us. You let them poison me."
Tears of genuine, cowardly terror leaked down David’s face. "I was a fool, Leo! They offered to fund my ministry, they promised me influence... I didn't know how far they would go! But right now, Katherine’s mercenaries are combing these woods, and Marcus Vance’s people are hunting anyone who can tie them to that bio-lab. If they catch me, I’m dead. If they catch you, you're both gone. I don't expect you to forgive me, but I have a police scanner in this truck. I know where the roadblocks are."
From the woods behind them, a flare shot into the night sky, illuminating the canopy in a sickly red glow. The search parties at the rail yard had realized the diversion was a fake. They were turning back toward the highway.
Julian looked at the battered pickup truck, its engine sputtering in the dark, then at David Miller—a man he loathed with every fiber of his being. It was a deal with a devil to escape a horde of demons.
"Get in the driver's seat," Julian commanded, his voice cold as steel. "If you so much as look at my brother wrong, I will drive this iron bar through your skull. Do you understand me?"
David nodded frantically, scrambling back into the truck.
Julian hoisted Leo into the cramped cab first, then slid in after him, slamming the rusted door shut. David hit the gas, and the pickup truck roared to life, peeling out onto the dark, winding highway just as the first flashlights of Katherine’s mercenaries broke through the tree line behind them.
For twenty minutes, the silence inside the cab was suffocating. The only sound was the static hiss of the stolen police scanner on the dashboard. Leo sat squeezed between Julian and the door, his eyes glued to the dark road ahead.
"Where are we going?" Julian asked, his eyes never leaving the side of David’s face.
"There's an old, unregistered airstrip near the state line," David muttered, his hands gripping the steering wheel so hard they shook. "The Syndicate used it to fly in the experimental chemical shipments for the Millers' basement lab. There’s a twin-engine plane kept there, fueled and ready for their executives. If we can get past the perimeter, we can fly out of their jurisdiction."
Suddenly, the police scanner crackled to life, a frantic voice cutting through the static: “All units, we have a visual on a stolen farmhouse pickup, heading west on Route 9. Plate number Echo-X-Ray-Four. Intercept immediately.”
David’s face drained of what little color it had left. "They found the farmer. They know what I'm driving."
Up ahead, the highway straightened out, stretching through a flat, desolate marshland. And there, less than half a mile away, the nightmare solidified. Two heavy armored tactical vehicles were parked sideways across the two-lane road, completely blocking the path. Crimson and blue strobe lights cut through the thick fog, and heavily armed men stood behind the barricade, their rifles already raised and aiming directly at the approaching truck.
"They blocked the bridge!" David panicked, slamming his foot on the brake. The truck skidded sideways on the damp asphalt. "We’re trapped!"
Julian looked back. In the rearview mirror, the headlights of two black SUVs were fast approaching from behind, closing the trap.
"Don't stop!" Julian yelled, grabbing the steering wheel himself and forcing the truck straight. "If you stop, we die!"
"We can't ram through those armored trucks, Julian! It’s suicide!" David screamed.
Julian’s eyes scanned the sides of the road. To the right was a steep, rocky embankment leading down into the pitch-black marsh. To the left was a old, rusted set of guardrails protecting a sheer drop into a flooded quarry.
They were traveling at seventy miles per hour. Behind them was certain death. In front of them was an impenetrable wall of steel and lead.
Julian reached over, pulling Leo tightly into his lap, covering the little boy’s head with his arms and pressing his back against the passenger door.
"David, hit the gas!" Julian roared, bracing for impact.
Instead of accelerating, David Miller’s face twisted into an expression of pure, selfish survival. "I'm sorry," he whispered.
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Before Julian could react, David slammed his foot on the brakes, threw his weight against the driver's side door, and threw himself out of the moving vehicle, rolling violently onto the hard asphalt.
The driverless pickup truck, entirely out of control, veered sharply off the road, crashing violently through the guardrail and launching into the empty air, plunging straight down into the black depths of the quarry below.
