Just a drabble, nothing more.


Lookout

Sam "Strikeout" Smith shivered as a clump of snow fell from the fire escape and fell on his unprotected neck. He did not like this job. And with his luck, he'd probably "strikeout" again.

He shivered again. Not from the snow but from the memory of his last encounter with "the bat." One time on the wrong end of his fist was one time too many for his lifetime.

His eyes scanned down the alley, keeping a lookout for telltale flashing lights. Experience also had him scanning the rooftops. Deep down, he knew that scanning the roofs was a futile effort but he could not help himself.

His scanning halted when something moved out of the corner of his eye. Slowly, he moved back into the shadows and tried to disappear into them. Carefully, he turned his head and froze when he saw the shadowy figure just standing there.

For one terrifying moment, he thought he made eye contact with the shadow. He could almost hear a voice warning him to not move, to not say anything.

That was the only thing that stopped him from running towards the sounds of fighting in the ensuing minutes. He could imagine his "buddies" being beat up and gift-wrapped for the cops just in time for Christmas.

Quietly, with nervous glances around, he slipped out of the alley and made his way to a bus stop a few block away (he would not admit that he did not want to take the nearest stop).

With a heavy sigh, he sat down on the bench. He did not want to tangle with "the bat" ever again. It had just been too close this time. Maybe now wasn't such a bad time to go straight?