Page 72 of Outlaw Ridge: Griff
He couldn’t see who started it. Which meant the person could still be there. And likely was. He soon got confirmation of that.
When a gunshot cracked through the night.
Griff instinctively turned, grabbing Lily and yanking her toward the nearest car. “Down!”
They dove behind the cruiser, Hallie hitting the pavement with them a heartbeat later. The acrid stench of burning gas filled Griff’s lungs, and his heart slammed against his ribs.
Another shot rang out, sparking off the pavement just feet from where they’d landed.
Griff peered around the tire, eyes scanning the shadows beyond the parking lot. Nothing. No movement. But he could feel it, that they were being watched.
Hunted.
He looked over at Lily. Her eyes were sharp, her breath controlled, but he saw the tension running through her. She was ready for whatever came. So was he.
But they were in a bad spot.
The station door was a solid twenty feet away—pure open ground. A straight shot for whoever had the rifle.
And they couldn’t stay where they were. The snake-like trail of gasoline was still rolling toward them, flames chasing its oily path with terrifying speed.
“We’ve got maybe a minute before that fire gets to us,” Griff muttered. “If we stay here, we burn.”
Hallie was already pulling her radio, calling for backup.
Lily looked at him. “You got a plan?”
He did. But it was risky as hell.
He flattened his hand against the pavement, heat already radiating from the fire creeping closer. His brain kicked into overdrive, calculating the angles, the cover, the chances.
“Yeah,” he said finally. “I’ve got a plan.”
Hallie looked over. “Please tell me it doesn’t involve charging an active shooter.”
“It involves a distraction,” he said, eyes flicking to the flaming trash can and the burning trail of gas curling toward them. “They want us to burn or get shot trying to escape. We’re not giving them either.”
He reached into his coat pocket, pulled out the flashlight, and he handed it to Lily. “When I say go, I want you to throw that as far as you can to the left—over near the corner of the lot. Maybe it’ll draw their eye.”
Lily gave a tight nod, her jaw clenched. “What are you going to do?”
“Pop smoke,” he said, pulling a small canister from the back of his belt—military issue. “Cover our movement. We use the distraction to get to the side entrance. It’s closer than the front.”
Hallie blinked. “That was in your jacket?”
“Yeah. Thanks to Strike Force.”
He checked the wind. It was blowing just enough to push the smoke between them and the building.
“This is going to get us about ten seconds,” Griff let them know. “Move fast. Stay low.”
He yanked the pin, tossed the canister high, and a second later smoke billowed out, thick and gray. Lily hurled the flashlight across the lot, its beam flipping wildly through the air and clattering loudly in the distance.
Another shot rang out, off to the side. The shooter had taken the bait.
“Go!” Griff shouted.
They ran, low and fast. The heat behind them was blistering now, the flames nipping at the edge of the cruiser as they bolted toward the side entrance of the station.
