Page 10 of Urban Justice

Chapter 5

As he emergedfrom the State Street subway station, it was pitch dark and the wind had picked up with a vengeance. Luke knew that with his luck, sleet would be the next thing, although it could take the place of the cold shower he needed. Since his afternoon encounter, anger had simmered steadily and was ready to boil over. And the fact he couldn’t deny the undertone of attraction was even more infuriating.

Since he’d donned the civilized suit of a professor, this was the first time he’d felt almost unhinged. Once he arrived in his apartment, he’d go for a run, rain or hail, and if it didn’t dissipate the rest of the unsettling feelings that swarmed inside him, he’d go bar-hopping. A good, mindless fuck could be the answer to forgetting the woman, who, in a blink, brought his hopes incredibly high before crashing them down.

It took a few yards into his neighborhood of Near South Side to get out of his head and he didn’t like it. Not being aware of his surroundings was dangerous, even if this area couldn’t compare to where he’d fought as a Marine.

The first few stings of sleet hit his face, and Luke hunched into his coat, hands in his pockets, but this time, with raised awareness. It wasn’t that late, but there were fewer people than usual, and they hurried to their destinations, oblivious to one another.

Although everything appeared calm, something was off, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. The neighborhood wasn’t dangerous, but he knew that even the more upscale places could hold potential danger.

Only five minutes later, Luke realized his discomfort wasn’t about what happened earlier, and that new feeling intensified. Discreetly, he scanned the immediate area, but didn’t see anyone following him. Was he losing it entirely?

The freezing rain that had just started, stopped, but the wind didn’t lessen, whipping his face, making his eyes water just enough to blur his vision.

Luke knew his neighborhood, and even if his apartment was at least two streets over, he decided to make a detour. If he was wrong, he’d only freeze. If he were right, he might still continue breathing.

If he ran now, anyone following him would know he knew they were breathing down his neck, so he made an unplanned right turn between buildings. The alley was a direct path to busier streets, although, in this weather, nothing was certain.

Ten steps into the alley, Luke launched himself into a full run. He thought about his cell phone in his messenger bag, but who could he call? Instead, he saved his breath and looked back. There was someone behind him, one, maybe two in pursuit. How he regretted leaving his gun at home; with two against one, a gun would have been useful.

As he approached the street straight ahead, a car blocked his path. Skidding to a stop in the faint light of the alley, he weighed his options, and none of them looked good.

The men behind him had slowed to a walk, and two more had gotten out of the car, heading in his direction. Acting on pure instinct, Luke noticed an old ladder leading to the fire escapes. Only one way out, and that would be up. Taking two steps back, he exploded, and cursed as his left hand skimmed the first rung, but his right hand closed around the rusted tube. His shoulders screamed as he hauled himself up and he gripped higher rungs until he could hook his feet to help pull himself up. The people after him may have hesitated, but by the shouts mixing through the howling wind, it wasn’t for very long.

The metal structure winced when added climbers came after him. He could have jumped into one of the balconies, but it was clear they hadn’t fared any better than the ladder itself. Only one destination was left: the rooftop.

Hissing through his clenched jaw, Luke gave one final push to reach the top and then looked around. There was nothing to conceal him, and he couldn’t risk remaining in the open for long. He was more surprised they hadn’t shot at him yet. With no time to waste, he willed his body for one more effort and ran to the opposite end of the rood. This time, when he heard shouts behind him, he didn’t look and increased his speed to jump to the other building.

The landing jarred every bone in his body, but he rolled, absorbing some of the impact and stood. This time, the building was wider, and two ventilation units, as well as two escape exits, could be used to block their view of him.

Even in the night, it was clear he wouldn’t be able to pull off a second jump, not with the buildings split by a street, so one of the escape doors was his only option. The trick was to choose the one that would open.

He almost thanked the heavens when he saw that the exit he’d chosen was made of worn wood. One kick and he was in.

His training kicked in on the way down, and he hugged the walls, trying to keep as invisible and noiseless as possible, though it soon became clear it would take much more than luck to escape. As he peered up, a sound reverberated from below. Someone was trying to break in through the door at street level. How many were there?

As he saw three men climbing from the bottom of the staircase, it was the sound of gunfire that made him push against the wall. Trapped, Luke went for the closest door and found it locked. He thought it led to an apartment building, but even though the building was empty for renovations, it was clearly secured.

Luke braced in a fighting stance, but the attackers above him didn’t head down, and he soon realized that the shooting wasn’t in his direction. Strangely, there was something going on outside.

A loud crash from downstairs made him curse as footsteps came running up the stairs. The only advantage he had was that they couldn’t attack more than two by two, which gave him a chance, if only a slim one.

There was no more time to consider the strange circumstances when the first man reached him. With at least 30 pounds on him, Luke moved forward and tried to tackle him, pushing as hard as he could to block the others. Whatever was happening upstairs, he had to find a way out, through all of them if need be. After delivering a couple of blows, the burn from climbing up the stairs finally got the best of him and he stumbled back.

Two men seized his arms and pushed him against the wall as a third one rained blows on him. Kicking didn’t do any kind of damage.

His entire body strained with everything he had, but the beating was slowly draining his strength. Panic was settling in and Luke felt like drowning when he saw something fall behind his captors, once and then twice. Through his blurred vision, he realized that bodies were dropping from above, and he wasn’t the only one to notice. The crew stopped tenderizing him and although two of them still prevented him from moving, the other glanced up and fired at whoever was upstairs.

Despite his aching ribs, he knew the distraction was his only chance to escape. Drawing in a deep breath, Luke snatched one arm out of their hold and turned the situation to his advantage. He’d almost overpowered the first attacker when he heard a characteristic click behind his head.

“Don’t move a muscle if you don’t want a perpetual headache, pal.”

Even if he hated it, he lifted his hands, and despite his brain working overtime, he couldn’t see any options, any weakness he could exploit to get out of this mess alive.

All the possibilities, all the analysis came to a halt when gunfire sliced through the commotion.

Luke expected to feel pain, maybe fall to his knees as he was dying, but instead, the tall man behind him tumbled like a tree, blood trickling from the exit wound in his head.

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