Sean lowered his weapon, well aware of the fact that the person in the closet was likely watching him. He switched off the lights and started back down the stairs, attempting to look like he'd found nothing of interest. Once he was out of the line of sight from the closet door, he paused and listened, waiting in the dimly lit stairwell. A minute passed, feeling more like ten. Finally, he heard a noise from the room above. It didn't sound like a door opening. Rather, it was more like a low shuck. Then he realized what was happening.
His quarry wasn't coming down the stairs. The killer was going out the window.
Sean pumped his legs back up the steps and spun around with his gun drawn, the small box-like silencer on the end pointing at the window on the far side of the room. All he saw was a foot dangling by the window frame before it was yanked out of view.
He sprinted across the room and skidded to a stop at the window, wary that whoever went through it might just be waiting on the rooftop for him. He shifted to the right and peeked out in the direction the person had gone. Across the clay rooftop tiles, Sean saw the man leap across a gap between Wolfz's house and the one next door. The top of the other house was flatter, and the man rolled to his feet, never missing a beat.
Sean looked down to the street below. A familiar lump went from his throat down to his stomach, filling it with tension. "Why? Why can't I just chase someone through the street? Why's it gotta be three stories up?"
Reluctantly, he put one foot out on a narrow ledge beneath the window and tried to shift his weight enough to keep his balance as he brought the other leg out. He looked out across the roof next door. The man was opening a wide gap between them. Sean needed to get moving, or he would lose him.
He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and forced the rest of his body through the window and out onto the ledge. A moment of imbalance struck him. Terrible thoughts of falling and hitting the pavement below zipped through his mind's eye. Sean clenched his teeth and pushed off with his right foot, making the twelve-foot run to the edge of the roof. When he reached the end, he jumped hard with his left foot and soared over the span, reaching the flat roof next door with four feet to spare. Unlike the man he was chasing, he didn't need to do a rolling landing. The adrenaline and fear had forced Sean to stay upright. His eyes went back to the killer who was already on the next rooftop and gaining ground.
Sean darted ahead, pushing his feet off the ground as fast as his hamstrings and quads would allow. He kept the gun in his hand but hesitated to fire. The last thing he wanted was to start popping bullets into innocent people's homes. No way he was going to shoot unless absolutely necessary.
He reached the end of the flat roof and leaped across a slightly narrower gap to the next roof. Despite his efforts, the man he was chasing continued to increase the gap, which was growing by the second. Sean peered ahead as he pumped his arms harder. He realized that the cluster of buildings came to an end at the next block. That meant the man he was chasing would be trapped. He considered the dilemma, wondering if the killer would be able to find another way down to the street.
It was impossible to know, and Sean had to decide quickly. He could try to find a way down at the next building and head the runner off at the exit, or he could continue the chase.
He chose the latter, pressing himself to the max of his abilities. His thighs ached, and the back of his legs tightened from the effort, but he pressed on. He reached the next span between buildings and jumped hard. This time, however, the space was bigger than the others he'd covered, and he nearly didn't make it to the other ledge. The toe on his right boot clipped the tile on the slightly slanted roof as he landed, sending him tumbling forward and sideways toward the front edge of the building. Sean felt a twinge of panic surge through his muscles and he desperately clambered to keep his balance. His speed had created too much momentum, and even as he stopped rolling, he felt himself sliding toward the gutter. With a last, desperate effort, he spread his body out, covering as much surface area as possible. His inertia slowed, and he was able to use his hands and feet to stop the deadly slide only inches before his shoe slipped over.
He scrambled to his feet, almost in a panic, unwilling to look down. His body trembled, but he regained his composure and forced himself on. Ahead, two roofs over, the killer had reached the end of the line on a rooftop patio. He was struggling with a door leading into the home, which gave Sean the slimmest of chances to catch up. Sean dug deeper for a little more energy and scurried across the slanted roof. He jumped across the next gap and landed easily on a similar patch of tile work. The killer ran over the edge of the patio and glanced over the edge of the retaining wall, sizing up the possibility of a jump. It would be suicide. He knew it, and Sean knew it.
Sean sprinted hard, intent on making the final jump. He hit the last few inches of surface with his foot and pushed hard, sending his body flying through the air. The killer looked back as he saw the movement and whipped up the gun in his hands. He fired six muffled shots, but Sean was a difficult target to hit. Gravity pulled Sean back to Earth, and he rolled to a stop behind a clay chiminea. The makeshift fire pit was just big enough to provide cover. He peeked his gun around the side of it and squeezed the trigger three times, but his volley missed the target. The killer dove out of the way and flipped over a square, wooden patio table, using it as a shield.
Sean fired two more shots into the wood, but they did little to deter the other man. He'd got a good look at Wolfz's killer in the midst of the chase. He had thick, almost curly black hair. The pea coat he wore looked like something navy men would wear, just as commonly worn at many wharfs around the United States. The face was unforgettable, featuring a sharp nose and jaw with a pointy chin and deeply set brown eyes. Sean took caution as he kept his weapon trained on the barricade. He needed the man alive, if possible. This meant he should aim for legs, shoulders, feet, and arms.
The man stuck his weapon around the table's corner and fired two shots, one shattered the top of the chiminea, and the other sank deep into the stucco retaining wall behind Sean's head. He returned fire, ticking off a few more shots. One went recklessly into the wooden door just behind his target's position. He hoped no one was home, or at least not standing on the other side of the doorway. The enemy returned fire again, squeezing off several rounds until Sean heard the chamber click. This was his chance.
Sean jumped out of his hiding spot and dashed across the twenty feet separating the two men. He covered the distance in less than two seconds and dove around to the rear of the patio table to get to the killer from behind.
In the fraction of a second the two men's eyes locked, Sean instantly noted the extraordinary lack of fear in the killer's expression. In spite of that, the man's survival instincts kicked in, and he jumped out of his crouch and darted back in the direction they'd come.
"Stop! I will shoot you!" Sean yelled, but it did nothing to halt the killer's progress.
Sean lowered his sights and aimed at the man's left hamstring. He only had a few shots left in his clip, and that was the last of the ammo he'd been able to procure. He squinted one eye and locked in on the back of the killer's leg. In two seconds, he would be on the other rooftop and out of range. No way did Sean want to go through that chase again. Too many variables.