Free Cold Snow: A Legal Thriller by John Nicholas

down."
     
    "If you panic, you die. You can't think straight—" Jake went on, running to keep up.
     
    "Alright! Alright!" Alex said, giving in. "I'll keep calm until we get somewhere safe. Then you're getting hell."
     
    "I still don't see how it's my fault…" Jake sighed. They stopped to catch their breath behind a large wooden fence. Alex checked the police locations, while Jake reached for the backpack—the revolver might come in handy.
     
    "God damn it! God damn it!" Alex herd Jake yell.
     
    "What?"
     
    "The backpack! We—we left it in the restaurant!"
     
     
     
    When the police cars pulled up beside her, Sarah saw no point in resistance. She was no action hero—she was a young girl, who, for some mysterious reason, took two patrol cars to arrest.
     
    "Sarah Jones, you have the right to remain silent. You have the right to an attorney. Anything you say can and will be held against you in a court of law," called one of them. He switched off his bullhorn.
     
    Sarah walked into the back seat without fighting—she knew it would just bring a resisting arrest charge.
     
    The cop with the bullhorn got into the driver's seat. "We have to stop at the Niagara Grill for a few minutes, and get some other suspects."
     
    Alex and Jake, she thought. It's a shame. I like Jake, and even though I didn't like Alex…I never wanted him arrested.
     
    The officer spoke into his radio. "Officer Franklin, this is Officer Gerhardt. I'm heading to the Grill. Over."
     
    The Niagara Grill was only a minute or two away from the spot of her arrest. They were there, soon enough, to join two other cars. Officer Gerhardt left the car when he saw another cop heading down the front steps.
     
    "Franklin! What's the story in there?"
     
    "They both left a few minutes ago. But I think I saw Orson running back towards it a few minutes ago."
     
    "Really? Is he turning himself in?" Gerhardt asked, surprised.
     
    "Not likely. Probably he's looking for this," Franklin said, holding up a backpack with a slight smile.
     
    "Where'd you find that?"
     
    "Under table nine. The waiter told me that's where they were sitting."
     
    "Nice job. What's in it?"
     
    "Food and a gun."
     
    "Busted!" Gerhardt shouted, and they high-fived. "Why no money, though?"
     
    "Because I stole it."
     
    Both of the officers looked around. "What?"
     
    "I stole it," Sarah said, louder. "I forced him to take money, food and a gun from his father. Then I forced them to leave their parents and get me across the border."
     
    "Really?"
     
    "Yes! They're guilty of nothing. Let them go."
     
    "Whoa." She could tell they were both surprised.
     
    Alex jumped the fence, ran across someone's lawn and kicked open the gate onto main street. The cops were three blocks away from him, at the Grill. Under the cover of fences and parked cars, he worked his way back toward them.
     
    Two blocks away, he saw that one of the patrol cars had someone in the back seat. Moving closer, he realized he could recognize her from the back.
     
    Sarah!
     
    He ran closer. One block separated him and the Grill now.
     
    I have a choice here. I could rush them, get the backpack, and leave Sarah to rot for revenge. Or, I could let her out of the car, grab the backpack and leave her to escape herself.
     
    He was hiding behind a fence, sizing up the situation, when he suddenly smelled foul smoke. He turned quickly. A boy around his age was standing next to him, smoking a cigarette, wearing a loaded backpack, and looking considerably calmer than Alex was.
     
    "Who the hell are you?"
     
    "Pardon me, I forgot to introduce myself. Anthony Andrews."
     
    "Colin Walker," Alex said, grinning. I thought I'd never get a chance to use my fake name.
     
    "So are you gonna help her or not, Walker?"
     
    "I'm thinking! What do you care?"
     
    "Because," Anthony said, indicating the backpack. "I just sold her this."
     
     
     
    "What's in your backpack?" Franklin said, clearly a little irritated at this