Justice by David Wood

brick had been.
    Nothing.
    “You’ve got to be kidding me.” He reached in and felt around the empty space, but there was nothing there, save a bit of dust and one desiccated spider. Muttering a few choice obscenities, he hefted the brick and made to replace it when something thudded to the floor.
    He froze and turned his light downward. The beam fell on a dried out oilcloth bag.
    “It’s a hollow brick, genius,” he chided himself. Hope rising anew, he replaced the brick and then carefully opened the bag and peered inside.
    The bag held a small, cracked, leather bound journal. He closed the bag, tucked it inside his shirt, and headed back the way he had come.
    When he climbed back up to the manhole he paused to listen, but heard nothing. He doubted he would be able to hear approaching footsteps anyway. He raised the manhole cover an inch and peered out.
    The few pedestrians were still looking toward the statue, but Bones was no longer making a speech.
    As Maddock’s eyes fell on his friend, Bones drove his fist into the chin of a thickset man, sending the attacker to the ground on rubbery legs. A second man stepped back and raised a pistol. Before Maddock could call out a warning, Bones lashed out with his foot, kicked the gun to the side, and bore the man to the ground. He slammed his attacker’s head into the pavement and sprang to his feet.
    “Bones! This way!” Maddock shouted.
    Bones spotted him and took off at a dead run. Behind him, the first man he’d taken down had pushed himself up to a sitting position and looked with bleary eyes at Bones’ retreating form.
    “Why not just run away?” Bones gasped as he reached the manhole.
    “In case there are more of them. Come on!”
    Maddock dropped to the ground and then moved out of his friend’s way. Bones landed heavily on his feet and they took off at a trot.
    “Holy crap, these ceilings are low,” Bones growled.
    “I don’t know if you can call the top of a sewer drain a ‘ceiling’, but whatever,” Maddock said.
    “Did you find anything?”
    “Not much. Just Washington’s journal.”
    “Did I ever tell you you’re awesome? Well, no because it’s not true, but you do find more nuts than the average blind squirrel.”
    Maddock laughed. “Thanks, Bones.”
    They passed through the chamber where Maddock had found the journal and then back into another low passageway. Maddock kept his eyes open for a way out, but saw nothing. After a few minutes, he held up a hand and they stopped. 
    “Do you think anyone’s following us?” Bones whispered.
    “That’s what I’m wondering.” He strained to listen, and finally heard the sound of footsteps moving in the distance. “No idea how far away they are, but they’re definitely after us.”
    “I should have grabbed that dude’s gun.”
    “It’s better if we get out of this with no killing. Come on.”
    They set off again, trying to move silently. Maddock could move almost silently, but next to Bones, his every movement sounded like thunder to his ears. Finally, they came to a cross-tunnel.
    “Which way?” Bones asked.
    Maddock chose a direction at random and hurried along. Behind them, the faint sounds of pursuit continued unabated. He picked up the pace, grimacing as they splashed through chill puddles of mud and stagnant water and slipped on detritus.
    “Running hunched over like this is bad for my back,” Bones grumbled.
    “I could make a joke about you being accustomed to bending over, but that would be too easy,” Maddock jibed.
    “Screw you, Maddock.”
    A few minutes later Maddock came to a sudden halt.
    “What is it?” Bones had the good sense to keep his voice down.
    “Look over here.” Maddock shone his light into a wide fracture in the side of the passageway. “There’s something back there. An old cellar, maybe. Think you can squeeze your giant butt through?”
    “If that swollen head of yours will fit, I should have no problem.” Bones slipped out of his leather