Clash of the Titans
Hit Me With Your Best
Shot!
Reno was frozen where he stood; his boots had suddenly grown roots and adhered themselves into the wasted concrete beneath them. The hand that gripped his nightstick was slick with sweat, and beads of the same substance rolled down his forehead and into his aquamarine eyes. Beside him, the girl who had caused him more trouble in one night than any woman had caused him in his entire life was as motionless as he was, her hand cold and clammy as it gripped his tightly. She was beside herself with fear, but refused to show it. Together, she and Reno glared at the Stalker with their blazing eyes.
On the other side of the alley, the Stalker stood calmly gazing at the odd pair standing against the backdrop of the graffiti covered Wall. Shadows drifted all around him, hiding what little was exposed of his figure. His fedora hat shrouded his eyes in darkness as an unseen breeze sent his trench coat flapping to one side, revealing black cotton clothes that hugged his form. Black, lace-up boots wound their way up his muscular legs, their shiny surfaces glinting in the moonlight.
The Stalker was coldly startled to see that peculiarly familiar red-headed man standing next to the girl, an electric nightstick gripped easily in his left hand while his other hand clutched the girl's. The dark man was at a loss to discern how the flame-haired man had followed him here…
That blue suit…a Turk. This one
is a Turk.
…but he had no intention of dwelling on it. The Stalker's face, or what could be seen of it, was impassive as he gazed at the two pairs of glowing eyes, one aquamarine blue and the other honey gold in color. His gloved hands with their nimble fingers, which had been held in his pockets until now, were hanging limp at his sides, limber and ready for action. All he wanted was the girl; all that mattered was the girl. And if this man, this Turk with hair woven of liquid fire, stood…
Be careful with the nightstick. This one is crafty and quick, and these slums are his element.
…in his way, then he was going to meet a painful death. Failure was not an option, and this man wasn't going to stop the Stalker from fulfilling his purpose.
Silence hung in the alley, thick as molasses in January, hungrily filling all the cracks and crevasses that made up the space between Reno, the girl and the Stalker. Tension crackled like invisible electric fire, a cord waiting for someone to come along and snap it so it could unleash its viscous tide of violence and bloodshed. Reno gripped his weapon tightly in his left hand as sweat streamed down his face in rivulets. The air soon stank of fear and the hostility sure to accompany the impending battle. It filled Reno's lungs like a thick soup laced with poison, but still, he gathered his courage and called out to the Stalker.
"I take it you're the bastard that's been following her!" he cried, satisfied with how steady his voice sounded despite the thundering pain in his head. He was having trouble focusing his eyes.
The Stalker made no reply to Reno's challenge, and the Turk's determined voice soon faded into the hungry silence.
"Well answer me!" Reno thundered. "You can talk, can't you?!"
The Stalker was silent, his trench coat flapping in the breeze. He didn't move.
"He never speaks," the girl suddenly said, her voice pitched low and her golden eyes still riveted on the ominous figure of the Stalker. "He only kills and leaves destruction in his wake. You must leave me to fend for myself, or he will kill you, too."
"Don't count on it, sister," Reno growled under his breath without looking at her. "I've gone through enough trouble for you already, and I'm not going to let you get away this time. We're gonna get out of here if it kills us both."
But, shit, I hope it doesn't, he added silently. The girl made no reply to his fervent vow.
Reno's expert eyes quickly took in the scene. Anywhere from thirty to forty feet of trash-ridden, dilapidated, hazardous concrete lay between them and Stalker. The secret escape route that Reno knew about was twenty feet behind them, along the Wall, and to the right, just a small hole that an overly husky person would have no hope of fitting through. They could make it to the hole before the Stalker, right? The dark man didn't appear to have any sort of long-range weapon. At least, Reno sure as hell hoped he didn't.
"Listen," he told the girl without moving his lips. "I'm going to stall for time here. You run along the Wall and to the right, and you'll see a little hole towards the bottom of it. Crawl through there and keep running straight until you see a black convertible. That's my car. Wait for me there."
The girl turned to stare at his chiseled, determined profile silhouetted against the dark, graffiti-covered walls of the Rat's Maze. Something quickened in her golden eyes, as gone as quickly as it had come. She squeezed Reno's hand. "He'll kill you," she said flatly, her voice almost too low for him to hear.
"No he won't," Reno snarled, eyes harsh as he fixed his glare on the motionless figure of the Stalker. "Just do as I say. You're going to have to trust me for the time being."
The girl said calmly, "I don't trust you yet, but I will do as you say since no other logical course of action has presented itself."
Anger (and hurt) stung the back of Reno's throat. "Well," he said in a low, sarcastic tone. "I'm glad that logic has triumphed over gratitude, baby. Now get outta here."
The girl stared at his scarred profile one instant more, feeling as if she should say something else to this exotic stranger that was risking his life for her, but in the end, she tore her gaze away and took off running in the direction he had told her to go, her hair streaming behind her and her heart and mind set on nothing else but escape.
Reno nervously listened to the sharp, ringing sound of the girl's boots pounding the concrete as she ran away. He was a bit unnerved by the fact that the Stalker still had yet to move even though his quarry was very clearly on the verge of escaping. The dark man across the alley was still standing shock still, the only motion being the movement of his flapping trench coat in the putrid slum breezes. Yet despite the fact that Reno could discern nearly nothing of the man's physical appearance (other than his clothes) from such a distance, the Turk received the distinct impression that the Stalker was watching him closely, waiting for something, waiting for Reno to drop his guard.
That was why Reno could have shot himself for what he did next.
Even after he had decided that even at such a distance the Stalker was still dangerous, even after he had told himself that he wouldn't be tricked by this dark man, he made a fatal mistake, one that everyone, street urchin and Turk alike, made and had to learn the hard way.
He looked over his shoulder to see if the girl had found the exit. She had, apparently, but was clearly hesitant on going through. She stood before the almost invisible hole in the brick wall, tucked away in a crevasse and almost completely shrouded in darkness. She appeared to be thinking whether or not she would be able to fit through the hole.
"What are you waiting for?" Reno snapped. "Go through!"
The mysterious girl turned towards him, and appeared on the verge of giving some sort of sharp retort when suddenly her golden eyes widened and her mouth dropped open.
"Look out!" she cried in alarm.
Even before he whirled around and caught that telltale flicker of movement in the corner of his eye, Reno knew what he had done wrong and could have kicked himself hard in the ass for making such a stupid mistake. Already he could hear the voice of his old gang leader, Dex, yelling in his ear.
"What the @#$% did you think you was doin' Sasuki? What does I always tell ya?! Never ever, ever, not once in a @#%$in' year, do you take your eyes off of your enemy! You'd best remember that, Reno, or your ass will be rotting the gutter next time and I won't be there to pull ya out!"
Reno barely had time to raise his nightstick before the Stalker slammed into him with the brutal force of a battering ram. The sheer strength of the man's assault knocked the wind from his lungs and sent his body flying backwards like shit in a shitstorm. Somewhere in the back of his rational mind, now almost completely unheard through the battle adrenaline, Reno knew that the Stalker had just crossed over fifty feet of empty space in less than five seconds – a feat that was physically impossible…at least for a human.
Then he felt his back slam into the wall, his head making a horrible thumping sound against the bricks, and he no longer cared about the illogical stunt the Stalker had just pulled off. Pain exploded like an atomic bomb planted inside his skull. His teeth clicked together painfully, and he felt his nightstick fly from his grasp. Agony ripped his sight from away from him, and for a single, breathless moment Reno was unconsciousness. He vaguely felt himself slipping down towards the trash-covered pavement, but then the world around him went dark.
But the realm of eternal silence would not tolerate a filthy soul like Reno's within its purified embrace. He was only knocked out for a second before he became aware of cool, cracked concrete beneath his scarred cheek. Through his bleary eyes, he could see one of his hands lying next to his face, naked fingers clenched tight with soulless determination. His lonely nightstick lay just beyond the reach of those pale, murderous digits.
Rage suddenly boiled his blood, the pain all over his bruised body only serving as a tool to fan the flames. His fingers and toes were tingling with battle adrenaline, and that familiar cold settled over his mind, the cold that never froze the rage, only made it worse. His ears suddenly decided to come back from vacation, and he began hearing the sounds of boots thumping hollowly on the pavement, only a few feet from where he was lying like a discarded toy at the base of the Wall.
The Stalker…
Reno's heart hardened. His head buzzed and pulsed with pain and demons. Blood on fire. The steps were closer. Closer…
KILL!!! his mind suddenly screamed.
And Reno was only too happy to oblige.
Without thinking twice or looking where the Stalker was, he suddenly sprung into motion faster than a striking snake. His left hand shot out and grabbed a hold of his nightstick, thumb fumbling for the button to release the electric blast. His body shot up from the ground, fueled by the driving, pulsing need to see blood splattered on the ground, to hear someone scream in pain. His free hand was clenched into a fist, blunt fingernails digging into the palm of his hand. His shoes scrabbled without any real concern for a base on the concrete, and his world was one big blur without sound or meaning. There was one and only one thought, one need: kill.
And as Reno's eyes locked onto the figure of the Stalker – just a dark, slender blur – his head pounded with fever and the battle high. His nightstick was on a collision course with the man's chest without him ever guiding it there. Later on, Reno would recall the battle and would fail to remember if the Stalker had ever had time to react. All he knew was that the moment he felt the business end of the nightstick hit something solid, his demonic thumb eagerly depressed the "trigger" button, and hundreds of volts of hungry electricity were pumped into the Stalker's chest.
The dark alley was suddenly lit up as bright as day, the blue-white electricity spewing out of the nightstick illuminating every nook and cranny, every hungry and ever relentless. It sought to invade and defile every shadowy corner and every hidden recess of the alley. It sang demonic songs in the air between Reno and Stalker, who weren't but three feet away from each other. Reno's mouth was twisted into a snarl, and his back was hunched as if in some sort of erotic pleasure…or intense pain. The hand holding his nightstick was trembling with the sheer exertion of maintaining the magnitude of electricity pouring into the heart of the Stalker. On the other end of the vortex of blue-white light generated by the nightstick, the Stalker stood hunched over in agony. His gloved hands were clenched into fists, and every muscle in his body was taut with pain and concentration. His covered head was lowered so that Reno was deprived of even one elusive glimpse of his face. And the electricity continued to pour into him.
The whole process only took but a second.
The time period from the point where Reno's nightstick started shocking the Stalker with electricity and the instant it knocked the dark man into the opposite wall was actually very short, but it seemed to Reno that he held that murderous nightstick in his hands for several lifetimes before he finally saw the Stalker's body being blown away from him as if in the grips of a powerful wind. The buzzing sound and the battle rage were still clawing at his mind as he watched the dark man fly clear across the alley and strike the crumbling wall about fifteen feet away from where the two titanic assassins had clashed. His thumb still kept the electricity pouring into the dark man until he finally realized that the man was lying in a crumpled heap on the concrete, facedown with his arms spread out into front of him.
The battle high abruptly tapered off as he beheld his now motionless opponent. No more challenge. He breathes no longer. Mission accomplished. That's all folks.
Of course, Reno had no idea whether or not the Stalker was actually dead. His instincts were telling him "no" even though he had pumped enough electricity into the dark man's body to kill a charging elephant (not that Reno had ever been charged by elephant. No way!). Reno had been taught to trust his intuition over anything his logical mind could tell him, and intuition told him to haul his skinny ass out of there before the Stalker could wake up.
And so he did.
All his surroundings were a blur of darkness as he raced away from the Stalker's unconscious body as fast as his legs could carry him. He was at the Wall and through the hole in a matter of seconds without mishap since the hole had apparently been widened by weather and weary souls over the years. Then he was back on his feet again, free of the Rat's Maze, shoes pounding the pavement and his arms pumping at his sides.
Where's that stupid
little skank that got me into this mess? Reno thought harshly. She better not have run off again. She'd best be waiting at the car like I told
her to.
And she was.
Reno rounded a corner, nearly falling over, and resisted the urge to let out a whoop of relief when he saw his black convertible, a relic from his Turk days, sitting safe and untouched at the mouth of the alley he had parked it in. Its chrome surface glittered in the moonlight with a sly gleam, looking for all the world like a panther waiting to spring at a victim. And beside the car was the girl who had caused Reno more trouble in one night than most of his bitches cost him in a year. She was crouched on the cracked concrete in such a fashion that her skirt nearly bared her legs in their glorious entirety, and her pale skin gleamed enticingly in the darkness. For the second time that night, Reno was hopelessly stricken by the exotic visage of her beauty, and something devious in his form wanted to ravage her on the spot and make her his own. However, once he saw the nervous way she was wringing her hands and smelled the fear vibes she was emitting, any thoughts of lust or carnal desire were immediately ousted from his mind and replaced by one thought and one thought alone: escape.
The girl abruptly rose to her feet as she caught sight of Reno rounding the corner and speeding towards her. Her golden eyes widened in shock. "You're alive?!" she gasped incredulously. "Where is the—"
"Taking a nap," Reno snapped as he rushed up the car and ran around to the driver's side. "Get in."
The girl only stared as he leapt over the side of the car and plopped down into the cushioned seat. "But how in all the heavens did you—" she started to say.
Reno glared at her, aquamarine eyes flashing. "Look, sister, just do as I say! Get in!"
His tone, usually meant to coerce victims into doing precisely what he wanted them to do, had the opposite effect on the girl. She suddenly began to back away from the car, the look of suspicion in her eyes so obvious that it was almost a tangible thing that seared the air between them.
"You couldn't have dispatched him so easily," she accused, voice pitched low. "You must be in league with him."
Reno was on the verge of screaming, and had to grip the steering wheel tight with both hands to avoid exploding in violence. "Look, you little—" he started to seethe, but instead let out a gasp as pain lanced through his head like a burning stake, making bloody red spots dance before his vision.
In spite of herself, the girl took a step back towards the car. "Are you alright?" she asked, her eyebrows drawn together in a mixture of concern and suspicion.
Reno shook his head violently, not in response to the girl's question, but trying to clear his brain of the demon that had suddenly returned with a new vengeance. "Get in," he told the girl without looking at her. Both sets of fingers were pressed against his temples in a vain effort to ease the agony clawing at his brain.
The girl didn't get in, but Reno could see her resolve wavering.
He suddenly turned his head to face her, aquamarine eyes bright with panic. "Please, whoever you are, get in before you get us both killed! That man's awake!"
The girl's eyes widened slightly, not surprised to find that the Stalker was awake; she had already known that. What surprised her was how this man, this flame-haired man with the eyes of a trained assassin, knew that her adversary had returned to the world of the conscious. She stared into his aquamarine eyes, soul-searching, looking for an answer to her question, but all she found was panic and a pulsating need to escape.
This man's being guided, she suddenly thought. The Fates have touched him. He's here for a reason…
Reno's brow creased with distress at the girl's hesitation, and he had to clench his teeth to keep a damper on his anger. "Please!" he begged, casting a nervous glance over the girl's shoulder. So far no one had emerged, but he knew it wouldn't last for much longer. The Stalker was still alive, and now he was on his way over here.
The girl looked over her shoulder, black hair flying, and stared at the corner for what seemed like hours but was, in reality, only a split second. Resolve hardened her form, and she made her decision.
Her heels clicked on the pavement as she raced up to the car door and leapt over the side so artfully that Reno didn't see anything that she didn't want him to see under her short dress. Pretty good, Reno thought with a mental grin that would have come to his lips if he hadn't been in such a distressed state. Sweat gleamed on his forehead as he started the car, cursing his wildly trembling fingers as they shakily gripped the key. The girl was silent, peering over her shoulder at the corner as the car roared to life.
Reno immediately stomped the gas, and the black convertible responded by leaping out into the street at top speed with its two occupants flung back against the upholstery. Foul-smelling wind whipped through Reno's hair, making his ponytail flap behind him like a battle flag. He plowed into three trashcans in a row, sending miniature explosions of raunchy debris flying into the air as he tore down the road as fast as his trusty car would go.
The pressure in his head suddenly increased.
Shit! I don't know how much more of this I can
take before my whole freaking head explodes!
"Hey!" he said to girl, who was still facing backwards. "Is he there yet?"
"Yes," she said calmly, as if she were speaking of just your average civilian passerby instead of a freakish, trench-coat clad stalking killer.
"What?!" Reno demanded, eyes darting to the rearview mirror in surprise. Sure enough, the Stalker was fully awake and actually running after them, legs pumping at a speed Reno hadn't thought possibly for a human. But then again, it wouldn't have surprised him one bit to find out that the Stalker was some oddball bounty hunter from outer space or something.
"Shit!" he cursed, hand reaching for his nightstick while trying to keep the car steady with one hand. Forcing himself to keep his eyes on the road, he asked to girl, "Do you know if he has some kind of weapon?"
Reno's sideview mirror suddenly exploded into a million glass fragments.
The girl blinked at him, her tone never changing. "Does that answer your question?"
Reno found time to give her a withering glare before grabbing her roughly by the shoulder and shoving her head down a second before a stream of bullets went screaming through the air over their heads like flock of miniature demons. Reno ducked his head as well, crowding next to the girl on the upholstery. A barrage of bullets tore through his windshield, making small work of the glass in a second. Cursing loudly, Reno managed to keep one hand on the wheel and cover the girl from falling glass shards at the same time. He was just talented like that.
The girl looked up into his face with wide golden eyes, and Reno had the audacity to grin at her. Their faces were only inches apart. "Buckle your seat belt, sister. This is gonna be one wild ride."
This time, the mysterious stranger realized that it wasn't the time to ask stupid questions. She did as she was told, fumbling for the seat belt and snapping it shut over her slender waist.
Satisfied that the girl wasn't going to be flying out of the car at a random moment in time, Reno took hold of his nightstick again, his heart pumping eagerly at the chance for another battle. Now, this was living, baby!
"Hey!" he told the girl, starting to charge his weapon with electricity. "Hold the wheel while I take care of this guy! And don't crash into anything!"
She nodded wordlessly and reached over to hold the wheel with both of her small hands, doing her best to keep the way-too-fast car in control, which was not an easy thing, being that she couldn't see the road and Reno still had the accelerator punched all the way to the floor. I can't believe I'm trusting this man! she thought. I'm starting to think that he's insane.
As if to further prove her point, Reno suddenly twisted around in his seat and fired a burst of electricity from his nightstick. He was able only to catch a brief glimpse of the Stalker dodging to the left before he had to hunker down to avoid another swarm of bullets. He wasn't happy to find that the man had somehow managed to close most of the distance between the car and himself or the fact that he had some dark weapon clutched in his hands. It was obvious the dark man had some kind of semi-automatic gun. No human could fire in such rapid succession with a regular pistol. The newly discharged bullets tore through what remained of Reno's windshield, and the ex-Turk winced as one shard cut him in the chin.
God damn that
bastard! He fucked up my car! That's it!! I've had it!
All his anger came boiling up in one second. Gritting his teeth in determination, Reno was just about to fire another blast at his pursuer when he suddenly felt a fiendish idea emerge through the haze in his battle-clouded mind. Sure it would be a risk, but it just might work! And since when was Reno of the Turks afraid to gamble with his life? Or anyone else's, for that matter.
Moving quicker than he ever had in his entire life, Reno pulled a crowbar from where he had it stashed under the seat and quickly jammed it against the accelerator pedal, removing his foot as he did so. The girl looked at him in confusion, still fighting to keep the car going in a straight line. It was a miracle they hadn't crashed into a wall yet. Or hit somebody.
"Keep driving," Reno ordered firmly, but he sent a silent prayer to gods he didn't believe in that the girl wasn't going to decide to get feisty now.
If she was going to formulate a response to his less-than-cordial order, she never got a chance to do so before Reno pressed the end of his still-charged nightstick to her dark head. The weapon was making a dull whirring noise as the compressed electricity churned within, and Reno was sure that the high-pitched noise was hurting her ear, but amazingly enough, she never once removed her eyes from the road. She appeared to be totally unconcerned with the fact that she had an electric nightstick pressed up against her head with Reno's itchy trigger finger hovering over the firing button.
She trusts me. Damn. Poor thing.
"Hey!" he suddenly screamed, fighting to make his voice heard over the sound of firing bullets and the roar of the engine. "Hold your fire or I'm gonna blow her head off! I don't think you want that now, do you?! Well?!"
There was a split second of tension in the night air. Then the swarm of bullets died into nothing.
It's working! Reno thought incredulously. This is definitely awesome. Damn, I'm good.
Reno chanced a quick look above the seat to see that the Stalker was a little ways away from their car and closing fast. The good thing, however, was that the dark man seemed to have discarded his weapon, being that Reno hadn't been able to glimpse it in the man's hands. Of course, the man could have just hidden it in his trench coat, but Reno was beyond caring about all that now.
Removing his fully charged nightstick from the girl's head, he spun completely around in his seat and sent a ball of electricity flying towards the Stalker. His aim was impeccable, as always, but the dark man still managed to dodge the projectile, moving with a speed that rivaled the one that he had used in the alley. Reno screamed in frustration and fired again, this time holding the firing button longer to make the blast more intense. The Stalker dodged again, his coat flaring behind him like a demon's wings.
Fire!
Dodged.
Fire!
Dodged.
Dammit! This sucks! There's gotta be another way, or the next time he dodges, he's going to
jump onto the back of the car! He's
close enough. Isn't there any way?
A shadow passed overhead, startling Reno so bad that he almost removed his eyes from the dark man in pursuit of the car. His eyes flicked upward with Mako-enhanced speed, and in an instant, he made his decision. As the black convertible roared aimlessly down the road like a ghost in the dark, Reno abruptly switched targets and fired an electric blast at the very thing that had given him such a scare.
The apartment fire escape screamed in protest as the ball of pure electricity struck its rusted surface, melting some of the ancient metal upon contact. The whole thing shook and trembled under the abuse, and the night was suddenly filled with the sounds of groaning, twisting metal.
As Reno watched with his finger still on the firing button and his hair flying into his face, the entire fire escape suddenly collapsed, falling away from the building and plummeting towards the road…and the Stalker. The dark man sensed the danger he was suddenly in and reacted, backpedaling so furiously that he started to slide across the concrete.
Then the twisted, melting heap of metal that used to be the fire escape crashed onto the street with bang, and the Stalker disappeared from Reno's view. For a moment, the metal squealed and screamed like a stuck pig in its death throes, then finally settled to its new resting place with a resigned sigh, its cries dissipating into the night air.
Did I get him? Reno wondered as the convertible continued to roar away from the scene of carnage.
Movement in the corner of his eye suddenly caught his attention, and Reno turned to see that the mysterious girl was starting to raise her head so that she could see over the dashboard.
"What the hell are you doing?" Reno snapped, still watching the mess he had left behind to make sure that the Stalker didn't reemerge like some sort of zombie from the wreckage. "Stay down!"
"There's a highway up ahead," the girl said calmly, ignoring Reno's orders and raising her head above the back of the seat; consequently, putting herself out in the open.
"And how do you know that?" Reno growled angrily. Something was moving in the wreckage behind him. Could be just metal, but he wasn't too sure.
"I read the sign," the girl replied to his earlier question, scooting as close to wheel as her safety belt would allow. "And that man – you needn't be concerned with him anymore, at least for tonight. He will not give pursuit again until he has recovered his strength."
But Reno wasn't even listening. His Mako blue eyes were riveted on the figure he saw emerging from the wreckage, disbelief flowing through his mind. It was the Stalker, alive and intact. Impossible. There was no way…
"No way!" Reno cried, beside himself with fury as he pounded the back of the seat with his nightstick and shoved his ponytail away angrily as it flew into his eyes. "No @#$%ing way! I killed that son of a bitch!"
If the Stalker had been within firing range, Reno would have charged up his nightstick and let the bastard have it, but the car was already too far away to get off a clear shot. All he could do was watch as the distant figure of the Stalker crawled gracefully out of the wreckage, tumbling to the pavement and lurching easily to his feet, totally unconcerned with the tattered remains of his garments. Reno saw the man take a few steps in their direction – steps without anything resembling a limp – as if he were thinking of following them, but instead he stopped and slipped his hands casually into his pockets.
Who the hell is this guy?! Reno wondered. No human could have survived that! Who is he?
But, of course, the Fates chose not to answer his soundless question, as was their custom. Toying with and using human lives was their specialty. Answering the questions of their subjects, their paper dolls, however, was not important enough to merit their attention. Reno's frustration increased tenfold as he felt an ache inside him – the agony of not knowing something that he wanted to know, something he needed to know.
Then the Stalker suddenly raised his face into the moonlight, and the shadows underneath his hat was suddenly lit up as bright as day, his face exposed for single, brief moment, bathed in moonlight. Icy fingers slid down Reno's spine as his breath caught in his throat. Abruptly, he spun around and sank into the driver's seat, turning his back on the Stalker, but unable to get rid of that cold feeling that had washed over his soul the minute the dark man had raised his face to the moonlight.
I was seeing things. Yeah, a mixture of the distance and battle
high, and it's nighttime for crying out freaking loud! It couldn't have been. There's no way. Dead men don't walk.
But they did, because for a second there, Reno had thought the Stalker was wearing the face of a man who had been dead for months.
* * * * * * *
Author's Note: Yes, I'm still writing "Sink to the Bottom
With You" but I decided to give this fic some of my attention, at least for a
while. ^_^ I had been stuck on this chapter for a long time, and I'm just
really glad that it's finally finished! Please review and send me your comments!
e-mail catalina2717@go.com
