Read PRIMAL Reckoning (Book 1 in the Redemption Trilogy, the PRIMAL Series Book 5) for Free Online Page B

going to keep up once she was on her bike. That meant one
of two things: either they had a mobile unit they were working with, or they
were going to target her before she started riding.
    He scanned
the road. The slow moving traffic included two vans and half a dozen cars. Any
of them might be working with the guys following her. He pulled the brim of his
cap down low and ducked between a van and a cab. The men had almost caught
Christina and he was still a dozen yards away.
    A white tradesman’s
van caught his attention. It was parked a few car-lengths down the road from
Christina. He felt strangely vulnerable, missing the pistol usually holstered
on his hip. The only weapon he had was the single-shot flashlight Mitch had
given him. He pulled out the stubby cylinder and increased his pace.
    The men
made their move as Christina jumped on the bike. One of them wrapped his arms
around her and the other wrenched open the door on the van. Her bike hit the
pavement with a crash.
    Bishop
grabbed the hair of the man who held her and wrenched his head back. He slammed
his fist into his temple, dropping him with a single punch.
    Christina
stumbled to her knees. The second man turned to face Bishop and was blasted
with a blinding light. He grunted, covering his eyes with his hands.
    “Nighty
night!” Bishop said as he jabbed him in the temple with the stubby tube and shouldered
him through the open van door. The dazed thug collapsed onto a third man who’d
been waiting in the van.
    Bishop
grabbed Christina’s hand and hauled her off the ground. “Run!” They sprinted
down the street and around the corner.
    “Who are
they?” she asked between breaths.
    “I was
going to ask you the same thing.”
    They ran along
the sidewalk, weaving between the crowds until they hit a crossing. The
pedestrian light was red. “We need to get off the street.” Across the road Bishop
spotted one of the green signs to a subway entrance.
    He glanced
back. Two of the thugs were in pursuit. He grabbed Christina by the hand and
dragged her into the busy morning traffic. Horns blared and tires screeched as
they dodged cars. A yellow cab missed Bishop by an inch. The driver hurled an insult
through his open window.
    They
reached the other side as the crossing light changed, giving their pursuers a
clear run. “Into the subway.” He pulled Christina around the railing and down
the steps.
    “Shit.” There
was a queue at the ticket booth and no way through the wall to ceiling
turnstiles. Behind them the two heavies shoved people out of the way as they
barreled down the stairs.
    Bishop
looked for a transit cop. Aside from the geriatric manning the ticket booth
there was no one else in uniform.
    “You
coming or what?” Christina was on the other side of the turnstile. She held a MetroCard
through the bars. He grabbed it, swiped the sensor, and pushed through the rotating
bars.
    Someone grabbed
his shoulder. Twisting back, he looked directly into the face of one of the men
chasing him. He broke the man’s grip as the turnstile locked with a clunk. The
thug swore as he tried to shoulder the heavy gate. It didn’t budge. Bishop gave
him a wink and followed Christina down to the subway platform.
    She led
him past the waiting crowd, all the way to the end. “It won’t take them long to
get a ticket.” She pointed at the screen that showed the arrival of the next
train. One minute and thirty seconds.
    Bishop watched as the subway timer
counted down the final thirty seconds before the next train arrived. If the
guys chasing them made it onto the platform they would have to push their way
through the hundred-plus waiting people. He took off his Yankees cap and
stuffed it in his jacket pocket.
    Twenty-five
seconds. He saw the two men charging down the steps that led to the platform.
    Twenty seconds.
He dragged Christina down into a crouch. “They’re at the other end of the
platform.”
    Ten seconds.
A rush of wind and noise was followed by the train