Now, now. I did not intentionally leave everyone hanging. We actually had a couple big storms move through and I lost internet for several days. We're finally back online now thankfully. Sorry for the unintentional suspense.
Mike knew he ran out of time to stall when he saw Morris cock his head at one of his goons, a tall fella with broad shoulders, whose strong built didn't match the fear he saw in his eyes.
It was impossible to tell just what kind of pressure technique the Homicide Captain had used to coerce his men into helping with his ploy, thus dragging them into the dark tunnel of dishonorable discharge and life in prison.
Whatever it was, the threat of denial must have been strong enough to risk the ultimate outcome.
"Throw that shovel back up here.", Morris barked, his eyes having turned cold and calculated, his body language tense, like a predator ready to strike.
Mike followed the order slowly, taking his time to walk up to the edge of his man-made grave, deep enough that the ground was chest high, then slid the shovel onto the surface, keeping his index and middle finger on the handle just in case.
If he were to die, at least he wasn't going to die without a fight.
With the serenity of any soldier who was about to be executed, he glanced up at Morris, ensuring to keep his features unreadable, cursing the man with every fiber and sinew of his body.
In return, the Homicide Captain raised Steve's .38 with his gloved hand, his index finger curling around the trigger as he aimed it at Mike's chest.
"I'd ask you for any last requests but to be perfectly honest, Stone, you've tried my patience long enough."
Unable to disguise a slight flinch running through his body, Mike watched him pull the trigger at the same time that he caught a dark object flying through the air toward Morris.
As the loud shot rang out, he could feel the impact pushing his body backward, sending him tumbling against the wall of soil, where he collapsed to the ground with a pain-filled moan.
Surprisingly, he noticed Morris going down simultaneously, leaving his limited field of vision altogether, landing hard on the ground where he could hear him cry out in surprise.
Mike gritted his teeth against the pain exploding in his left shoulder, feeling the warmth of blood soaking his clothes and running down his chest. And yet, despite his own misery, he was able to notice an encouraging change in pace within Morris's group.
Shouting could be heard, along with the pounding of feet against the dirt, followed by some gunshots.
In amongst it all, there were some guttural, downright primal growls that seemed to send the rest of the goons into defensive mode.
Putting his right hand over the flesh wound in his shoulder, he carefully scrambled back to his feet, stifling a scream of pain, hoping to get a better idea of what was going on.
Surprised and grateful to see Morris on the ground, withering in agony, Mike took in the perimeter, seeing the taller of the other two goons sprawled out next to his leader, the second one in an animated fight with none other than Carl.
Sighing against the tears of gratitude welling up in his eyes, Mike steadied himself against the wall of his grave, trying to join in on the battle as best as his injury allowed.
And yet, between the blood loss and trauma, his legs had grown weak, shaking at the slightest amount of exertion.
Several yards out, Carl was on the move again, having knocked out Morris's goon and now running after Mears, who had been the first one to flee, already several hundred yards away; no surprise there.
As a matter of fact, all he could see was the killer's red jacket as he sprinted through the forest, dodging rocks and hiding behind tree trunks, knowing full well who was on his tail.
Mike sighed, his mind still trying to catch up with what had just happened and how a lonely Hermit ended up saving his life by driving off four armed men, all with the power of what seemed to be rocks, at least judging by the gaping wound on the back of Morris's head, as the Captain rolled over to the side, fighting to remain conscious.
Forcing himself to stay focused; Mike tightened the grip over his injured shoulder, then scanned the perimeter for a better path to get back to the surface, at the same time cursing his efficiency in digging the hole.
The pain was making him nauseous, but at least it kept his mind on the task, rather than drift off to the heartbreaking reality that would ensue once things were back under control.
Shaking off the dizziness that made the corners of his vision crowd in on him, Mike stepped off to the side, ready to reach for an exposed tree root to use as leverage to pull himself up, when an outstretched hand appeared in front of his face.