Page 73 of Outlaw Ridge: Griff
More shots cracked, but they were wild. Panicked. The shooter couldn’t see through the smoke.
Not at first anyway.
They were just feet from the door when the wind shifted, thinning the smoke, and a shot cracked through the air. Hallie grunted, staggering mid-stride as the bullet struck her shoulder.
“Hallie!” Lily grabbed her, dragging her down behind a parked cruiser. Griff dived in beside them, heart pounding, adrenaline crashing hard in his veins.
Blood soaked through Hallie’s coat. She was still conscious, biting down on a curse, but the pain was written all over her face.
Griff heard the sirens, the fire department on approach. Jesse cracked open the door a couple of inches, peering out with his weapon raised. “I called it in. They’re two blocks away.”
“Let them know we’ve got an active shooter,” Griff ordered. “And the sheriff’s been hit.”
They were off the path of the burning gasoline now, the fire chasing the trail in another direction. But they weren’t safe. Not with a gunman still out there, watching, waiting.
Lily pulled Hallie in tighter, shielding her as best she could. “Stay with me,” she said, voice low and urgent.
Hallie hissed through her teeth but nodded. “Still here. Not going anywhere.”
The acrid smell of burning fuel hung heavy in the air, the fire hissing and spitting just yards away as smoke curled across the pavement. Hallie was bleeding, pressing her own hand to the wound as Lily leaned over her, trying to help.
Griff kept low, scanning the surrounding buildings, the shadows, the rooftops.
“We’ve got a problem,” he said, voice low, steady. “The EMTs and fire department can’t move in with an active shooter on scene. Not until it’s clear.”
Lily swore under her breath, eyes flicking toward the flames, then the shadows.
Jesse cracked open the station door and tried to step out. Another shot cracked, striking the doorframe just inches from his shoulder. He ducked back with a frustrated grunt.
“Dammit,” Jesse muttered from inside, trying to peek through the narrow opening of the door.
Griff crouched lower, mind working fast. “I think he’s on the roof of the antiques shop. It’s the only angle that makes sense for that shot. And he’s not spraying. He’s picking targets.”
Lily’s gaze followed his line of sight, and she gave a tense nod. “So what do we do?”
“I’m going to the back of the lot,” Griff said. “If I can cut around, use the alley, I can come up on the shop from behind. There’s probably a ladder or stairs on the rear side. If he’s up there, I’ll see him.”
Lily’s eyes narrowed. “You’re going up on the roof alone?”
“Someone has to clear the way. Fire’s still spreading, and Hallie needs help. You stay with her. Keep pressure on the wound.”
Hallie was pale, but conscious, jaw locked against the pain. She gave him a nod. “Go.”
Griff looked at Lily. Her hand was still on Hallie’s shoulder, her other hovering near her weapon. She hated this plan, he could tell. But she didn’t argue.
“Be careful,” she said, eyes locking with his.
He nodded once and slid along the concrete barrier, then broke into a low sprint toward the edge of the lot, disappearing into the smoke and shadows. Griff hugged the side of the building and pulled out his phone, tapping out a quick message to Jesse.
Need a distraction. Open the door. Make him look your way.
Seconds later, the door to the station cracked open again. Jesse peered out halfway, lifting his arm like he might fire, then ducked back in just as another shot ripped through the smoke and slammed into the metal frame.
Griff didn’t wait.
He moved fast and low, weaving between the parked cruisers and civilian cars, staying beneath the gunman’s line of sight. The heat from the nearby fire licked at his back, but the smoke gave him cover. His boots crunched over glass and gravel, the sound nearly swallowed by the wail of sirens and the sharp crack of another shot. Thankfully, not aimed his way.
He reached the far end of the lot where the shadows grew thick, the pavement giving way to dry grass, gnarled shrubs, and a line of bare trees. Beyond that stood a row of small buildings and outbuildings. Storage units, a shed, the back of an auto repair shop. The antique store was nestled in the middle, its old brick exterior dimly lit by the glow of the fires behind him.
