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Back Fractured Save as PDF
Chapters (42)
  1. TITLE PAGE
  2. COPYRIGHT PAGE
  3. DEDICATION PAGE
  4. CONTENTS
  5. ONE
  6. TWO
  7. THREE
  8. FOUR
  9. FIVE
  10. SIX
  11. SEVEN
  12. EIGHT
  13. NINE
  14. TEN
  15. ELEVEN
  16. TWELVE
  17. THIRTEEN
  18. FOURTEEN
  19. FIFTEEN
  20. SIXTEEN
  21. SEVENTEEN
  22. EIGHTEEN
  23. NINETEEN
  24. TWENTY
  25. TWENTY-ONE
  26. TWENTY-TWO
  27. TWENTY-THREE
  28. TWENTY-FOUR
  29. TWENTY-FIVE
  30. TWENTY-SIX
  31. TWENTY-SEVEN
  32. TWENTY-EIGHT
  33. TWENTY-NINE
  34. THIRTY
  35. THIRTY-ONE
  36. THIRTY-TWO
  37. THIRTY-THREE
  38. THIRTY-FOUR
  39. THIRTY-FIVE
  40. THIRTY-SIX
  41. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  42. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

We were walking along Friendship Street, past apartment buildings and parking lots, and I held out my hand and lightly slapped it flat against each parking meter we passed. Malachi was not nearly so loose, as usual. His line of vision zigzagged up and down the street, lingering on each person we passed. His intensity freaked people out, often causing them to avert their eyes and scoot to the far edge of the sidewalk. A few even crossed the street to avoid us.

“My family had money,” Malachi commented. “For a time, at least. Before everything fell apart. We never wanted for anything.”

“Maybe that’s why you fit in so well.” It slipped out before I could stop it.

He stiffened. “I fit in because it’s my job to fit in.”

“Come on. This is more than a job for you.” I slapped my hand hard against the cold metal of the last parking meter on the block, remembering his Facebook status and all of Laney’s little heart symbols after her announcement that he was her prom date.

He stopped at the curb. “Of course it’s more than a job.” His eyes glittered darkly, and the edge had returned to his voice. “Just like it is for you.”

And then a high, wavering scream pierced the quiet, sending both of us into action.

TWENTY-SIX

TWENTY-SIX

WE MADE IT TO the end of the block and stopped short, listening. Nearby, rapid-fire footsteps pelted through the darkness, followed by another shriek.

“I’m looping around,” Malachi said, and then he took off, hurdling the low fence blocking an alley between two warehouses.

I sprinted toward the sounds of scuffling feet and muffled shrieks. Up ahead, in the half shadow of a dim streetlight, two figures were struggling, one on top of the other. “Hey!” I shouted.

The figure on top whipped around and bared his teeth. His victim used the opportunity I’d given her, and she scrambled to her feet and took off again, her dark hair streaming behind her. The attacker growled at me as I ran toward him, but then he dove onto all fours to chase after the girl. Damn.

I ran across a street, ignoring the squeal of tires and the honks of a horn pounded by the driver who’d almost hit me. We were in the Jewelry District now, desolate streets and abandoned buildings interspersed with funky little shops and restaurants now closed for the evening. Scraggly patches of weeds reached out to trip me as I chased the Mazikin across an empty lot. The girl he was after was almost too far ahead to see, but I caught the flash of something reflective as she disappeared into one of the buildings at the end of the block, a rambling low structure with a realtor’s sign out front, planted in the weedy gravel next to a chain-link fence.