Some Kind of Hell by Frank Zafiro

Author:Frank Zafiro
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: assassin, action, justice, chase, vigilante hero
Publisher: Code 4 Press
Published: 2023-11-18T00:00:00+00:00

NINETEEN

2011

Sandy woke with a start.

In his dream, he’d been running. Trying to escape.

Only it had felt more like a memory than a dream.

He glanced around, half-expecting to see the dense darkness of the Central American jungle. Instead, the dirty metal dumpster filled his view. The stench of garbage followed a second later, snapping him back to reality.

The cold asphalt had seeped through the cardboard and into his bones, stiffening his joints as he moved. He shivered, even though a flush of warmth coated his skin.

I need to get this fever down.

He rose laboriously, suppressing a groan. He peered around the corner of the dumpster into the alleyway. He saw nothing out of place. The ambient noise of downtown at night filled his ears. He decided it was time to move.

Find a car.

Get the hell out of this town.

First, though, he removed his coat. He reached into his small day bag and pulled out a black shirt to replace the tan one he’d been wearing. Quickly, he changed into the new shirt. He debated swapping out the jeans as well, but the difference between the two pairs was minimal. Besides, he didn’t want to take off his shoes.

He stuffed the old shirt back into the small bag. He double checked the compartments, removing the emergency cash he had stowed in an inner pocket. Then he lifted the black plastic lid of the dumpster and slipped the bag inside.

Sandy walked down the alley, working the kinks out of his muscles and joints. He’d switched from a blue baseball hat to a green knit cap, and from a tan shirt to a black one. He was no longer carrying a bag, either. It wasn’t a massive change—his build was still the same, not to mention his hair and beard—but it might be enough to give anyone searching for him pause.

He could hope.

Just as he reached the mouth of the alley, a black and white patrol car turned the corner onto the street.

Shit.

So much for hope.

He turned to his left, walking casually in the same direction of travel as the vehicle. He hoped the cops would clock him as nothing out of the ordinary and drive right past. The level of diligence required to stop any and every person who vaguely resembled a particular suspect was high. And he’d modified his clothing, which might make for a quick rejection of him as a suspect.

Then again, he’d assaulted a pair of officers at the bus station. He knew neither would have been seriously injured from his actions. He also knew that wouldn’t matter. Cops were a fraternal bunch by nature. An assault on any one of their own would motivate everyone to amp up their vigilance.

Just drive by.

The car swung to the curb, activating its overhead lights.

Sandy resisted the urge to immediately run. They were too close. If he ran while they were in the car, they had the advantage in keeping up with him. And they’d radio in the pursuit immediately. He knew all they were likely reporting now was a suspicious person stop.

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