With the police vehicles blocking all exits, George "Old Man" and his team were racing to reach the scene. However, in his frustration to catch up, George's car accidentally slammed into a wall at the entrance of the parking ramp, effectively trapping a line of police cars behind them.
George scowled and shot a glare at Carl, the officer in the driver's seat. "You idiot! How many times have I seen you hanging out with Owen and Carlos, and you still drive like this? You didn't learn anything from them!"
Inside the spiraling parking ramp leading to the rooftop, the screech of tires echoed with every sharp turn. Unlike a typical underground lot, this ramp wound upward in a continuous loop toward the top of the unfinished building.
The gunman, known as "Curly," regretted his decision but had no other choice. He had driven himself into a corner—there was no way out but up. Revving the throttle, he accelerated, the motorcycle roaring as it climbed higher, far ahead of the pursuing cars. Only Owen, also on a motorcycle, managed to keep up closely behind him.
Curly's tires screeched as he finally broke onto the rooftop. Dust and gravel scattered in all directions. He glanced over his shoulder to see Owen still trailing him like an unrelenting ghost.
The rooftop was wide open, void of any parked vehicles. The surrounding skyline stretched in every direction, a stark reminder of how trapped he was. Curly scanned the area and quickly realized the grim reality—there was no escape. The only exit was the ramp he had just come from. The building wasn't fully constructed, and the remaining edges of the rooftop were sheer drops into the abyss below.
The sound of helicopters droned overhead, while police sirens and flashing red-and-blue lights filled the streets below. Curly's mind raced as he tried to devise a plan. His options were rapidly shrinking.
Owen circled the rooftop twice, gauging the situation. It was obvious that Curly had reached a dead end. Carlos soon arrived, his yellow Chevy roaring up the ramp, followed by a long line of police vehicles. The authorities would soon seal off the area, leaving Curly with no room to maneuver.
Curly turned back and locked eyes with Owen. His gaze was filled with rage, desperation, and a dangerous resolve. In that moment, Owen knew the man was about to make a bold move.
Without warning, Curly twisted the throttle, speeding toward the edge of the rooftop. Owen's eyes widened. Is he going to kill himself?
But as Owen quickly assessed the situation, it became clear what Curly intended. The man wasn't attempting suicide—he was going to jump to the adjacent building. The rooftop's sloped ventilation shaft created a makeshift ramp, and just beyond the gap between the two buildings, there was another rooftop within reach.
He could actually make it.
Owen's mind flashed through vague memories of parabolic trajectories and physics equations, but he didn't waste time calculating. His instincts told him that if Curly maintained enough speed, he'd likely land on the other building.
Without hesitation, Owen made his own reckless decision. He revved the throttle, determined not to let Curly escape. The motorcycle surged forward, chasing after Curly's path toward the edge.
Carlos, arriving just in time to witness the scene, watched in shock as two motorcycles launched into the air, soaring off the rooftop. His jaw dropped as he muttered, "Holy shit…"
But Carlos wasn't one to back down from excitement. His adrenaline surged, and he floored the gas pedal, steering the yellow SUV toward the ramp. However, common sense kicked in at the last second. Carlos slammed on the brakes, tires screeching and smoking as the vehicle skidded to a stop at the rooftop's edge. He let out a relieved sigh, patting his chest. "Thank God… That would've been suicide."
From a distance, the scene was surreal. Police officers watched in awe as the two motorcycles disappeared into the night sky.
For Owen, the experience felt like a dream. Time seemed to slow as he sailed through the air. The distant skyline glimmered with city lights, and he could make out office workers still in a late-night meeting on the other building's upper floors. His senses heightened to an almost supernatural level.
He could hear the rhythmic pulse of the helicopter blades above and see the red and blue lights flashing in slow, hypnotic cycles below. The rush of adrenaline made him feel invincible.
Ahead, Curly crashed through the glass facade of the adjacent building, shards scattering like glitter in the air. Owen adjusted his posture mid-flight, aligning his trajectory with the shattered opening. Moments later, he followed Curly's path, bursting through the broken glass and landing inside.
The impact was brutal. Curly's motorcycle collided with a row of desks, sending him flying. He hit the ground hard, groaning in pain as office furniture crumpled around him. Owen's landing wasn't much better. His bike slammed into Curly's wreckage, and he was thrown from the seat. However, his earlier preparations helped minimize the damage, leaving him relatively unscathed.
Amidst the chaos, Owen stumbled to his feet, panting heavily. He spotted Curly lying among the debris, still dazed and struggling to get up.
"Made it…" Curly muttered to himself, his face contorting with pain. He hadn't noticed that Owen had followed him across the gap. The gunman was filled with a fleeting sense of triumph—until a shadow loomed over him.
Curly's eyes widened in horror as Owen's boot came crashing down on his face, knocking him unconscious.
Owen staggered backward, gasping for air. He collapsed onto a pile of debris, his body finally succumbing to the effects of adrenaline overload. His muscles convulsed uncontrollably as he curled into a ball, his heart racing like a drum.
Every nerve in his body screamed in agony. The exhilaration of the rooftop jump had been intoxicating, but now he was paying the price. He lay there trembling, drenched in sweat, silently praying for the pain to subside.
_________________________
[Check out my Patreon for +200 additional chapters in all my fanfics! Only $5 per novel or $15 for all!!] [www.p@treon.com/Mutter]
For every 10 Power Stones received, I'll release an extra chapter ✨