Page 72 of Inescapable Darkness

I’m being followed.

I pull up my mental map of these streets, searching for a place that will work. If I remember correctly, there is a narrow alley between the back of two restaurants two streets to my left. It’s secluded enough to afford some privacy, but not so far off that it’s completely empty.

Taking the next left, I set course towards it.

Those eyes that I can feel boring into my back follow me.

The moment I round the corner, I sprint down the street in order to increase the distance between us. Once I estimate that my pursuers should be reaching the corner as well, I slow to a walk again.

Because of my head start, I now reach the next corner almost before they have rounded the first one.

Just as I had guessed, it takes me into a narrow alley between the back of two restaurants. It’s dark and deserted, and the smell of food drifts out of a metallic vent set into the brick wall. I sprint towards it.

With a quick jump, I grab that vent and pull myself up on the roof. Using the raised edge for cover, I crawl along the flat stone roof and back towards the mouth of the alley that I came in through.

Faint footsteps sound from below.

They stop as they reach the opening where I was earlier as well. Then one pair starts down the alley. A few seconds later, the second pair of footsteps do the same.

I quickly swing myself over the edge of the roof and drop down.

The moment my feet land, the man halfway down the alley whips around and aims a gun in my direction.

But the second man is too late, because my gun is already pressing against the back of his neck before he can turn towards me as well.

“Don’t,” I warn when his hand drifts down to where I know he keeps his own gun concealed.

He stops moving, keeping his arms slightly out from his body and his hands spread. He knows that I can and will shoot him if he tries anything.

“Hello, Anna,” the man halfway down the alley says, his sharp brown eyes locked on me as he continues staring me down from behind the barrel of his gun.

Anna was the name I went by at the time the Hands of Peace found out that Rico was still alive.

“Derek,” I reply.

It was the name that he went by before I had to flee. I have no idea if he has changed it since then. But it doesn’t matter. None of the names are real anyway.

“I suggest you put down your gun and come with us willingly,” Derek says, his voice hard.

He had wavy brown hair last time I saw him. Now, his hair is cropped close to his scalp in a military style cut. It’s still dark, though, so I assume he hasn’t dyed it as well. He is in his forties, and I’ve been on several missions with him throughout the years. He’s good. But most of all, he’s ruthless. If I were to do as he says and come willingly, he would still torture me.

“I suggest you lower your gun before I shoot Sebastian in the head,” I retort.

Sebastian, or whatever name he goes by right now, doesn’t even flinch. He is taller than me and in his thirties. He isn’t as overtly cruel as Derek can be, but he’s vicious enough that I never want him anywhere near me with a set of tools. So I keep my gun firmly pressed against the straight blond hair the falls down his head and covers his neck.

“If you shoot him, you lose your human shield,” Derek says. “Which means that I can then shoot you.”

He is right, of course. So I don’t reply.

For a few seconds, silence falls over the alley like a death shroud. Only the humming of the air vent breaks it.

“Where is he?” Derek demands eventually.

“Where is who?” I reply.

“Don’t play stupid, Anna. It’s beneath you.”

I just stare back at him in silence.

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