Sveta had moved across the street. She stayed low, and her hand snaked out, snatching for Hookline’s ankles, trying to once again drag him beneath the vehicle, forcing him to clamber or squeeze out.

As I landed on a car roof, intentionally making a sound, he glanced back at me. His face was bound in ripcord or something like it, with a gap for his eyes. It pulled his teeth back so they stood out, perpetually bared.

At least he brushed.

The distraction meant Sveta could get a hold on him. He stabbed an engine block with the hook, to try to arrest his movement, hands on the chain.

I walked over to the hook, and slapped it free. By all rights, I should have destroyed it, but his thing was that he made his weapon invincible, untouchable.

He tried to catch me with it, but Sveta had him and the hook didn’t reach out as fast as Sveta pulled him beneath a dusty construction vehicle.

I collected a mailbox and a pallet of construction material, and set to blocking off his exits, so he would be stuck beneath the truck until someone got him out.

There were others approaching already.

The fastest of them arrived. Moose. Love Lost. A mismatched pair.

Sveta put out her hand, not extending her arm, and I caught it, clasping her wrist as she clasped mine.

Braindead and Birdbrain had no doubt clued in the local villains. They would also let people know what Hookline and Sink had been intent on doing.

Others sounded like they were just around the corner.

I glanced at Love Lost. The woman who wanted to kill Rain. Who wanted to torture him to death.

Rage. Anger. Hate.

There was so much I didn’t know about that scenario, but I could see that the sentiment was very much real.

Her claw went to her mask. I had just about no interest in seeing what she could do. I flew skyward and out of reach, bringing Sveta with me.

Hopefully, for just a little bit longer, we would leave them wondering who we were.

Shade Interlude 4b

Rain climbed down from the back of the pickup truck, slinging his bag over his shoulder with the contents rattling. Two older guys departed at the same time. The truck puttered as Rain walked around to the driver’s side door. He handed over some bills. The inside of the truck was choked with the smell of cigarettes, and the man at the wheel was partially obscured in the dark and smoke, his features lit by the changing colors of the radio display.

“Thank you,” he said. He didn’t sound like himself.

He only got a grunt in response. The driver counted the money before putting it aside.