Cyrus
The door opened at the back of the police station and I put my body in front of Imogen so if a hail of bullets met us as we escaped, they’d hit me first. Thankfully, the only thing on the other side of the building was blinding Florida sunshine and July heat.
At least for the first few seconds. After that, everything rolled downhill.
"We need to find a road out of town. Maybe we can hitchhike, and if we get far enough away from the station, I’ll call my brother and find a meeting point," I said to Imogen as we walked through the parking lot, looking for the best direction to escape.
Bushes surrounded the space and grew so thick together you couldn’t run through them. A quick scan showed there were two ways out of the lot—one entrance and one exit. We were closer to the exit to our left, so I grabbed Imogen’s hand and directed her that way at the exact time a familiar car turned into the lot.