Daniel eased backward, holding his breath, willing the floor not to betray him. But the old wood groaned under his weight. His foot slipped against the banister, the thud echoing like a gunshot in the still house. The fugitive’s head snapped up, eyes locking on him.
For a heartbeat, neither moved. Then the inmate bolted toward the door, shoving it open with a crash. Daniel stumbled after him, shouting into the phone, “He’s running! He’s running out!” Headlights cut across the yard.