Vlad’s gigantic fist crashed into my nose. He drew his arm back, preparing for a second strike. I squirmed and reached for my taser. Grazing it with my fingertips pushed it further away. As his fist descended, I blocked with my right hand. His punch pushed through my weak defense and smashed into my forehead.

  My head crashed against the brick wall. My stomach turned. As vomit erupted from my mouth and splashed onto Vlad’s face and torso, his expression of anger turned into shock.

  He recoiled, pulled his shirt over his head, wiped his face, then threw the soiled shirt at me. For a moment, he peered down with a face frozen in shock. “You puke on me pig?”

  “I’m not a cop.”

  “Don’t tell him that. The po-po radio their locations and who they’re meeting. Harder to get away with killing one.”

  Vlad snatched my hand with one meaty mitt and bent my finger sideways until the bone snapped.

  I screamed, reaching with my other hand for the taser. “I work with them. They know I’m here with you.”

  “Why you search for Vlad?” He bent a second finger.

  Junette spoke, but my screams drowned out her voice.

  “Stop…” I sucked in a harbored breath. “I’ll explain.”

  He relaxed his weight, allowing me to reach the taser.

  “Talk quick, snitch.”

  I darted my head to the right and widened my eyes as if someone approached.

  Vlad shifted his attention in that direction long enough for me to aim. As he returned his gaze, I pulled the trigger. Two leads shot from the device. One stuck in his neck, the other in his cheek. They sent a jolt through his face. His jaw clenched as he swiped at the wires, ripping them from his flesh. I pushed and twisted, breaking free of his grip. Vlad ignored me while he patted his cheek and neck, likely gauging the damage done. I sprung to my feet and darted through the alley.

  “You die now, pig helper,” Vlad yelled. The loud stomping of his heavy feet echoed off the brick walls. I hopped to the right. His large hand swished past me.

  “Run faster.”

  Vlad paused between words. “I…catch…you…soon.” His clomping sounded further away.

  Turning the corner, I sprinted faster, jolting across the street between two cars. The second laid on his horn and screeched his brakes. The sound of flesh smacking fiberglass sounded off behind me. I peeked over my shoulder to see Vlad slapping the top of the car.

  “Move.” He half shouted as he sucked in air.

  “The Russian lacks stamina.”

  I ran for another half mile before taking a right and heading down a perpendicular street. Shadows seemed to leap at me from everywhere, but Vlad was nowhere to be seen. Stealing a moment to catch my breath, I squatted. As much as I wanted to sit, this position allowed for quicker movement if a shadow materialized into Vlad. My breathing slowed to a normal pace. The adrenaline faded, forcing me to experience the throbbing in my head and hand.

  The road lit up.

  Headlights.

  I scurried to a nearby tree and leaned, keeping it between me and the vehicle while peeking around the side. Part of me expected to see Vlad driving down the road. I wasn’t sure what his car looked like, but somehow, I believed I’d recognize it. I pictured an enormous, lifted truck with dual exhaust and oversized tires.

  Instead, a yellow cab crept through the street. The light on top wasn’t lit. “Shit, off duty.”

  “Or they already have a fare.”

  “It’s moving slow. Maybe Vlad is inside.” I thought for a moment. “Then again, I can’t imagine a taxi helping him stalk someone.”

  “He might be the driver.”

  “Only one way to find out.” I moved from the cover and stepped into the street, putting one arm in the air.

  The vehicle slowed, and the window jerked down a few inches. “I’m off duty,” a feminine voice said.

  “I’m lost.”

  “Not an ideal neighborhood for that.”

  “Can you please give me a ride to somewhere a little less…”

  “Dangerous?” The window rolled down further. A woman in her mid-forties poked her head out and glanced around. “This isn’t some type of trap, is it?”

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  “Of course not.”

  “You wouldn’t admit it either way.” She sighed. “You don’t dress like a banger. Hop in.” She grabbed and keyed her radio. “I’m picking up one last fare. Gentleman in his late thirties. Caucasian. Black hair.”

  The back door clicked as it unlocked. I pulled it open and hopped in, taking one more glance out the rear window to ensure Vlad wasn’t creeping behind us.

  The driver tapped a cigarette out of a red pack and held it between two fingers. “I don’t normally smoke with passengers. Hell, I’m not even allowed to light up inside here without them.” She raised her eyebrows. “But since I’m technically off shift, do you mind?”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Mighty generous of you,” she said with a twang of sarcasm. “Where to?”

  “You agreed to drop me somewhere on your way.”

  “You’re already inside. I’ll bring you home.” She paused. “As long as it isn’t too far.”

  I pulled a wallet from my front pocket and slid out an ID.

  “Vlad’s wallet?” Junette paused. “In all that mess, you snatched it?”

  “I have some skills.”

  “Excuse me?” The driver asked.

  I read the address from Vlad’s license. “But drop me a block away.”

  After pulling forward, she frowned at me in the rearview, then raised her eyebrows. “Who kicked your ass?”

  “You should see the other guy.” I forced a chuckle. “His knuckles took a beating too.”

  “You gonna heal yourself or sit there and bleed?”

  I concentrated on my wounds and imagined tiny white blood cell soldiers rushing to the affected areas. My nose stopped bleeding. The bruises on my face faded away. I straightened my finger as the bone fused back together.

  “Do you have any tissues?”

  She handed me a box. I wiped the blood from my cheeks, then spit into a second tissue and scrubbed away the dried bits.

  The driver stared at me from the rearview, a confounded expression on her face.

  “It wasn’t as bad as it looked,” I said.

  “Sure.” She muttered, almost too low to hear, “Bloody man that needs to check his ID for his address and can’t be dropped off directly at his house. Stan was right, time to stop working the red eye shift.”

  Turning my attention back to the wallet, I pulled out all the cards. One from a hardware store had an indentation in the bottom right-hand corner. I held it up to get a better view. The damage was the size of a micro-SD card. I fished around inside the wallet’s slot until I felt the plastic. Pinching it between two fingers, I extracted the memory card.

  “256 gigabytes. Why would he hide that in his wallet?” Junette asked.

  After driving for ten minutes, she stopped a block from the address on Vlad’s license. “Thirty-five fifty.”

  “I pulled three twenties from Vlad’s wallet. “For the trouble.”

  “No trouble.” She grinned. “But…” She glanced around. “Something tells me there’s more to this story. Not good stuff. I’ll bet you want me to forget what you look like.”

  “That type of service must require an additional fee.” I chuckled and yanked out three more twenties. Luckily, he carried a lot of cash. I extended the bills.

  She glared at them and raised her eyebrows.

  I snatched the remaining cash from his wallet. Two twenties and a few ones. “That’s all I have.”

  “All you have just happens to be the correct price.”

  As I stepped from the cab, Junette said, “Why are you paying her off? He attacked you.”

  “I need time to search his apartment. If she calls the police and tells them the address, that will severely limit my chance. Plus, they show up and see me looking uninjured, and find him with puncture wounds in his cheek and neck, and I have his wallet. Might be hard to explain.”

  I glanced at the corner house’s address before turning down the alley, keeping to the shadows as much as possible. Many homeowners installed video doorbells out front. They were inexpensive and easy to operate. Residents in this area weren’t likely to have full security systems, which meant less chance of being recorded at the back of their houses.

  “What you gonna do when that man returns to find you inside?”

  I counted down the addresses as I slinked through the alley, each would decrease by two. His would be the fifth house. “He worries the police are after him because he attacked someone working with them. The last place he’d go is his official address. He’ll lie low for the night.”

  “That thug doesn’t plan ahead.”

  “Hopefully, my taser jolted some sense into him.” I stopped at the fifth house. No fence or gate like the others. Chasing down criminals for the wizards taught me that most rule-breakers value their privacy. Then again, Vlad might not be a career criminal. Perhaps his was a crime of passion. Had he noticed an opportunity to make some quick Cash. But why target Claude? He stayed at an inexpensive hotel, which didn’t scream high roller.

  The need for repairs on the two-story green-sided house was evident, even in dim lighting. Paint peeled from the door frames and windows. I pointed at one of them. “Old style. Made of wood.”

  “Is that important?”

  “Unlike the plastic and fiberglass windows, they warp over time if not properly cared for. Peeling paint means moisture reached the wood. The old metal clasp locks often have trouble engaging once the frame warps.”

  “The wizards taught you that?”

  “No, but I renovated the house I bought with…” A ping of regret made me not want to speak her name. Even after a year, her loss felt fresh. “I needed to replace the windows to lock them.” An effort that failed to protect her.

  I dragged a lawn chair to a back window and climbed onto it. A rusty screen with multiple small holes covered the exterior. I poked my finger into one hole and pulled. Puffs of dust exploded as the screen tore. After throwing it to the ground, I pushed against the wooden frame. It budged a half an inch before sticking.

  “Is it locked?”

  “Just jammed. Likely, the swollen wood is tighter than designed.” I pushed harder, careful not to put any weight on the glass. Finally, it sprung up. It stopped again, about halfway open. “I can squeeze through there.”

  I locked my arms on each side of the interior frame and pulled myself inside, where I hovered over a dual sink full of dirty dishes. The pungent scent of sitting water and mildew caused me to hold my breath. As careful as I tried to be, my knee brushed against a bowl as I lowered it to the counter, causing the dishes to clatter.

  ‘What if someone lives with him?’

  I hovered over the sink for a moment, then spun my body so my feet dangled over the edge of the counter. Then I lowered myself to the ground. “He’s likely single, seeing that he’s out at such a late hour trolling for girls in that type of bar.”

  ‘Or he’s cheating on whatever woman tolerated his nasty ass.’

  I moved through the kitchen and into the living room. The cracking walls had several pictures hanging from them. Most were of a couple with multiple young kids, none having a family resemblance to each other or the couple. One looked like a teenage version of Vlad.

  The lights flipped on. As my eyes adjusted, an older lady came into focus at the bottom of the stairs. She gripped a double-barrel shotgun in her shaking hands. My body stiffened as my heart beat harder in my chest. The gun barrel went past me and pointed at the far corner. Her shot would miss me by a few feet.

  “Don’t shoot,” I said.

  She aimed the shotgun in my direction.