The electrical charge ripped through Leo’s nervous system. The sheer voltage caused his muscles to lock up instantly, violently convulsing his torso. He pitched forward, hitting the gravel hard, his teeth grinding together so fiercely he tasted copper in the back of his throat. His entire body shook uncontrollably as the current flooded his veins.
“Hold it on him,” the young man commanded, highly amused. “Let him cook a little.”
Marcus kept the baton pressed into Leo’s skin for five grueling seconds before finally lifting it away.
Leo lay on the ground, his breath coming in ragged, shallow gasps. His left arm was numb. The smell of singed fabric and ozone hung heavily in the air.
“Not so tough now, are you, Judge?” the young man sneered, tapping the bat against his own leg. “You thought you were a hero. You thought you could just stand in my way and play savior. Look at you. You’re nothing.”
Leo slowly opened his eyes. He didn't try to stand. He didn't try to fight back. He simply turned his head, looking past the young man, past the smirking bodyguards, right toward the rear window of the SUV.
The little girl was still pressing her hands against the glass. Even in the dim light, Leo could see the sheer terror in her eyes. She was watching him, believing he was her last hope, and watching that hope be beaten into the dirt.
Leo held her gaze. He didn't look away. And very slowly, painfully, Leo gave her a single, deliberate nod.
It was a small gesture. A promise.
I am still here.
The young man noticed the exchange. He scowled, infuriated by Leo’s utter refusal to break.
“You really don't get it, do you?” the young man said, his voice dropping into a dangerous, unstable register. “You think you’re surviving this? You think I’m leaving a witness?”
He raised the aluminum bat, stepping up to Leo’s head.
“Hold his arms down,” the young man ordered. “I’m going to cave his skull in. Let’s see if it matches his stupid tattoo.”
Marcus and another bodyguard moved forward, their heavy boots crunching on the gravel. They grabbed Leo’s wrists, pinning his arms to the ground. Leo didn't struggle. He let them hold him.
The young man lifted the bat high over his head, adjusting his grip, preparing for a lethal downward strike.
But before he could swing, the ground beneath their feet trembled.
It wasn’t a heavy vibration at first. Just a faint, rhythmic shudder moving through the deep concrete of the gas station island.
The young man paused, his bat still raised in the air. He frowned, looking down at his feet. “What is that?”