I knew not to get involved. Getting involved in too much around Buffalo was a good way to draw attention. A ghost like me was better off invisible.
That notion vanished like breath on glass, and the part of me I kept contained surfaced, swift and unassuming… a ghost finding its body.
I shed the darkness like a snake shed its skin, silently materializing behind the three men ripping cash out of his coat like they had every right.
They had no right.
No right to touch what wasn’t theirs.
No right to hurt someone who’d been innocent enough totry and get away.
I grabbed the one who punched him first, yanking him off his feet, and let him float there just long enough to realize he was no longer in control before slamming him into the pavement and crouching low, swiping out a leg to drop his friend as well.
The first guy was already up and swinging, and I ducked to deliver a blow of my own. Grunting, he staggered back, disappearing into the darkest part of the alley and smacking into a brick wall. His friends came at me from both sides, and I grabbed them by their coats and rammed them together, skulls rattling beneath skin.
One dropped to the ground, the beam of the flashlight shooting toward the sky like some sort of pathetic call for help. Shaking it off, the other came back for more. My boot landed dead center in his abdomen, making him hunch over with a gasp. While he was doubled over, I locked my arm around his neck, cutting off his air supply.
He kicked his legs and slapped my arm pathetically before his breath turned into a wheeze and he slumped, unconscious.
The second I dropped him, the first guy rushed out of the dark, brandishing a blade. I didn’t even bother to suppress my eye roll. If I didn’t tell him what an idiot he was, how would he know?
Fun fact: Did you know that most people who try to defend themselves with a knife usually end up with it used against them?
No?
Consider this your education.
I grabbed his wrist with the first swipe and twisted, thesatisfying snap of bones music to my ears. His holler of pain was silenced with a groan when I caught the dropped knife out of the air to bury it in his side in one graceful move.
The thug looked down, incredulousness and pain marring his previously arrogant face.
Listen, a life of crime wasn’t for everyone. He should probably consider a career change.
He was still standing there, hunched over in disbelief, hands hovering around the knife sticking out of his side. “Wh-who are you?” he rasped.
I stepped close, not worried in the least that he would identify me. It was dark, and I was all in black with a hat and mask over my face. Not that he was looking at me anyway. He was too busy worrying about his boo-boo.
“You should worry about yourself right now, don’t you think?” I gave him a half-hearted shove, and he fell over with a groan.
“Watch out!” a strained voice behind me yelled, and I spun to see the guy who’d originally gone down from the little bump to the head lunging at me.
Before I could react, the blond plowed into him from the side, both going down in a tangle of limbs.
Did he just try to protect me?
The big guy got the upper hand instantly, rolling the smaller man under him, and delivered a blow. Red tinged my vision when the body on the ground didn’t move or raise his arms in defense as the man raised his fist a second time.
Growling, I lunged, feeling his hair rip from the scalp when I knotted in my fingers and yanked him away.He shouted and kicked his feet, so I slammed his head into the pavement.
His body jerked and then went still. Tugging the black mask below my chin, I spit on him before straightening and pulling a cigarette and matchbox from the inside of my leather jacket. Sliding the cig between my lips, I flicked the end of a match over the thick silver ring I always wore.
The instant spark gave way to flame, and I inhaled the brief sting of bitter tobacco followed by the slightly acrid warmth funneled down my throat. Exhaling, I watched the cloud of gray blend quietly with the night.
Lips clamped on the filter, the glowing tip dangled as I bent down to check the status of the three men sprawled around my feet. All three still had pulses, though the one with the knife wound should probably get some help sooner rather than later. But that wasn’t my problem now, was it? It was dark, and I was fast, never standing still long enough for them to get a look at me. So leaving them here to deal with their own cleanup was the way to go.
Taking another drag off the cig, I walked over to stare down at the blond. His coat was open, pockets turned inside out. His face was already bruising, cheek smeared with blood. I could see the rise and fall of his chest, so I knew he was alive, just unconscious. A puff of smoke filled the air around me as I shook my head. One fall and two hits was all it took to knock him out.
Pipsqueak.
