Sprinting out, I follow the chaos and the yells. The woods are thick with police, converging on some point I can’t make out through the trees. Gasping for air, gripping my ribs against a stitch, I follow the flow.
The trees thin out to a clearing. A wall of uniforms form a barrier two bodies deep.
A pair of medics tend to one officer, apparently half-conscious, blood spilling from a s***h over his face. Another pair trot up carrying a stretcher between them.
I spot Chad in the line, then Michael with him, both with their attention fixed on something I can’t see. Catching up with them, wheezing, I blurt out. “What’s happening?”
Michael nods ahead. “They’ve got him cornered. Harkness. But he’s got Mitch. And a gun against her head.” He jerks a thumb back to the injured officer. “A police
