Page 104 of Faith and Fury

We stand on opposite sides of the street, our backs pressed to shop windows, eyeballing the grate.

“Come on out, motherfuckers,” I mutter. “I dare you.”

The streets are still quiet—no walks of shame, no joggers, no shopkeepers. Sunlight glints off the glass buildings. Then, just when I think I can’t take the waiting game any longer—

“Suspect sighted on Columbus Boulevard. Officers in pursuit.”

I spring to attention, even though Columbus is miles from here. Thirty minutes north—ten if I had my bike.

North. My blood boils. Fucking north.

I take off running the way I came. No-one shouts at me to keep my post—who’d give a damn? We know where the ring guards are coming from. Nothing matters now except that we catch them.

Sweating, breathing hard, I finally reach my bike. Another voice sounds over the radio as I hop on—this one female.

“Officer … down. Requesting urgent back-up.”

“Fuck,” I snarl.

The streets blur with speed as I join the pursuit. I can’t hear what’s being spoken on the radio anymore. Then again, I’m not listening.

Seeing a flashing police car, I come to a screeching halt on Columbus. The bike thuds to the cement as I run forward, approaching two officers apprehending a bearded guy in tattered clothes.

Immediately I can tell something is wrong.

“RDF,” I say, flashing my badge. “What’s going on here?”

That’s when I get a better look at the guy. One of the officers has him pinned face-first to the car while the other cuffs him, reading his rights. He’s … older than I’d expect, for a guard. Skinnier, too.

Suddenly my radio goes off, Caleb’s voice commanding my attention. “Jaxon, I said report!”

Fuck. I pick up the receiver. “I’m here.”

“Where the fuck is ‘here’?”

I swallow, my throat dry as sandpaper. “I heard about the suspect on Columbus, so I—”

“I put you on Princeton. Who gave you permission to leave your post?”

Heat rolls over me, though I can’t tell if it’s anger or embarrassment.

“I—” I clench my jaw. “Someone requested back-up.”

“That’s right—your partner. Who you left, stranded, at your post.”

I freeze. “What the hell are you talking about?”

The line rattles, like Caleb is on the move. “Two suspects came up the sewer grate, both armed. They fired twice—at least, that’s what we heard over the radio.”

“Fuck.” I feel sick. “I—did she—” My ears are ringing. “Did she catch them?”

His voice is hard and unforgiving as he tells me, “She’s down, Jaxon. Medics are on the way.”

It takes all my strength not to let my knees buckle in front of these two NCPD officers, both of whom keep shooting me strange looks as they arrest this … random guy. Probably homeless. Definitely a rogue.

But not one of the rogues we’re looking for.

“Listen,” I whisper, “I screwed up. I just thought—”

---