* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *


Rondell's group followed the general direction they assumed the limousine with Gunn had taken, trying their best to avoid detection. This, of course, meant taking no main roadways, and trying to follow someone's route by taking side streets was a long and time consuming process. Gunn could be locked up in solitary by now with all the time they had wasted trying to be careful. Caution was vital, yes, but the dawn couldn't be that far away.

"Seen anythin'?" He whispered to George.

The boy shook his head in a grave 'no'. "Not a thin' worth mentionin'. I think this is the way they took, but we're so far out of our way that I can't be sure of anythin' anymore. All I see is blackness an'---"

"A dead body!" Alonna screamed and dashed out from a side alley.

George pushed Rondell aside, who looked like he was about ready to strangle Alonna for tagging along, and took the girl by the shoulders. "Shhhh. Calm down, kid. Now where'd ya see it?"

"Over there." She was trembling and pointed with an unsteady hand back down the alley she had shot out of moments before. "S'worse than any vamp attack I've ever seen."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *


"Thought I 'eard ya, Ty." Gunn rolled over slowly to meet Ty face to face. "'Ow'd they let scum like you in 'ere in the first place? Figured the only way you'd be in 'ere was behind bars." But this wasn't the same Ty he and his boys had met up with so many times on the streets. This Ty had a nice looking suit, shiny new dress shoes, and a long overcoat. He had obviously been doing quite nicely for himself in the months since they had last met up.

"Alright..." Gunn tried not to show his surprise, ".. what's yer story?" Gunn pushed himself up on to his elbows. "Get lucky with a lotto ticket, or ya jest knock off some businessman?"

Ty glowered and gave the boy a wicked smile. "Wouldn't you like ta know?"

"Maybe I would." Charles never once averted his eyes from the vampire's. "However I'm bettin' ya set this whole thin' up."

"Smart, kid. Real smart... mouth, that is. Ya know, I wouldn't talk like that if I was in yer position."

"Wouldn't ya?"

"Well, since I'm the one with the keys, I think you'd better shut yer mouth an' listen ta what I 'ave to say."

Charles got into a sitting position and gave a glare that said 'Alright. Talk. And do it now before I get even more pissed off than I already am.'

"I thought you might like to know that we've made arrangements to place you in a group home. We'll see that you get off on a lesser count and, so long as you report to group therapy twice a day, you may yet become a happy, healthy young man."

"Who's 'we'?" Gunn glared. "And since when did ya care a damn about me, Ty?"

"Since this sweet little bunch of people showed me how nice life can be when you make the rules. No havin' ta change ta please others. They'll do what you tell 'em to."

"An' if I don't go along with yer plan?"

Ty reached for the lock on the door and slid the key in, turning it ever so slowly. "Come with me."

"You come in 'ere an' I'll kill you."

"Now, now, now! Calm yerself. Attackin' me'll only get yer friends killed that much faster." Ty chuckled. "And that sweet little sister of yours." He stepped back. "But if you insist, I'll leave you to brood in your cell block."

Gunn set his jaw and went back to his cot.

* * * * * * * * * * * *


"Damn."

The face of each member in the group was sullen. It was a murder scene of the worst kind, alright. The unlucky victim had been laid out on the ground, limbs splayed to the sides, allowing whatever killed the man to get straight to the soft belly. Damage to the corpse was extreme, however, the murderer had been clever. The marks was covered, all skillfully concealed beneath the victim's raincoat.

Alonna was still ashen, looking as if she were somewhere between fainting and throwing up. She'd seen some bad stuff, but this took the title for most gruesome. Usually, Gunn was able to shield her from the really bad stuff, but he wasn't around right now to do that. "What are we gonna do?"

"You're gonna put your hands up where I can see them." A sharp voice barked instructions to the youths.

Slowly, Rondell, Alonna, George, Junior, and the others turned to face an unmarked police car. It's driver held the gun firmly between his hands, finger dancing on the trigger.

"What's up, officer?" Junior tried to act as nonchalant as possible, but even he was fighting his first instinct of running like the wind. His history with the long arm of the law was, well... long.

"A murder. Three feet behind you. One which you and your friends committed."

* * * * * * * * * * * *


"They should have been back by now." Chain and Bobby sat huddled together against the cold night air. The evening had suddenly changed for the worse. Thick black clouds blotted the sky and an uneasy feeling had spread throughout the warehouse. It was as if they were being watched constantly. Chain had patrolled around the perimeter at least once an hour, but had been unable to find anything that would account for the discomfort.

Bobby shivered a little. "Maybe we should get out like Gunn said."

"Hey, listen! Rondell left me in charge an' so long as them cops don't show back up, we're fine. Plus, where would we go, genius? I can't think of no place near enough that ain't already claimed by someone else's crew." Chain shot back.

"Then, can't we at least go out an' check again?" It was out of character for Bobby to be so wound up, but it wasn't as if his fears were unfounded. First, Gunn had been hauled off for 'questioning' and then at least a quarter of their crew had vanished from a mission that they should have been back from hours before.

"Lay down, man. Yer imaginin' things. Sleepin's yer best option. Things'll look better in da mornin'."

Bobby laughed at that. "Ya sound just like my mother when I was five."

Suddenly an explosion came from outside. Chain lept to his feet and was down the stairs to the first floor in the blink of an eye. Bobby froze. I knew it. I knew somethin' wasn't right. He took in a deep lungfull of air to try and calm himself. No sense in fighting when one's head was less than level. But wait... what was that? He took a sniff of the air. It was a rich, woody smell. Almost like a wood burning stove.

Wait.

Burning wood?

"EVERYONE GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!" Chain bellowed up the stairwell.

Now Bobby could hear the cracking and popping of a blazing fire. And the wood? The very warehouse they were sleeping in. "GUYS! YOU HEARD 'IM! MOVE!" Bobby grabbed people from their sleeping pads on the floor and shoved them in the direction of the stairs as fast as he could.

Chain's scream could be heard once more above the din. "TAKE THE BACK WAY! FRONT DOOR'S BLOCKED!"

As soon as he was sure that everyone was clear, Bobby, too, leaped down the stairs and took off for the back exit.

Sweaty and sooty, Chain was waiting as the last of the crew filed out the back door.

"What the hell happened?" Bobby let out a deep cough.

"That limo came back. Tossed a barrel of somethin' at the front door. Took off after leavin' a lit match."

Bobby's eyes widened. "Gasoline."

"S'what I was figurin'. Now leave while ya still can!"

"What about you?"

"I gotta go back for somethin'."

"Nothin' that's worth gettin' yerself killed over, fool!"

Chain pushed Bobby through the door and turned back to go in. Bobby prepared to turn back and follow the Latin boy when a burning beam crashed through the ceiling. Shaken and suddenly overwhelmed by a wave of heat, Bobby staggered backwards. Any hopes of following his friend were lost in the heavy smoke.