I reached the ground floor exit, nearly tumbling into the steel door. It was supposed to be alarmed, but these guys had already taken care of that, the alarm panel had been smashed, wires cut. They thought of everything, I noted dimly.
I shoved through the door, barely keeping my footing as it creaked open. The alley hit me like a punch. Rain came down in sheets, turning my thin hospital gown into a second skin. My lungs burned. My legs didn't want to move.
Neon light buzzed and bled over the alley, purple and red streaks dancing on the wet asphalt. The stink was worse than the pain...
Garbage, piss, and something sourer.
Overflowing bins leaned into the narrow path, and I stumbled through a puddle that swallowed my foot.
Behind me, the heavy door slammed open again. One of the hitmen was still on my trail. He paused in the doorway, spotting me. "You can't run, Bale!" he shouted. His voice echoed off the alley walls. I glanced back and saw the muzzle of his pistol raising.
Instinct saved me. I ducked behind a large steel dumpster just as a flash lit up the night.
POP!
The bullet sparked off the dumpster with a ping. Another shot went wide, shattering a glass bottle somewhere. He couldn't see me clearly in the dark and rain, thank God for that. But I was cornered. My only cover was this dumpster. The next blind shot might find me.
My foot brushed something, a broken chunk of concrete, fist-sized. I didn't think, just picked it up. My fingers were slick with rain and blood, but I gripped it hard. Over the pounding rain, I heard the splashing footsteps as he approached carefully, with ready gun.
I pressed my back to the dumpster, every ragged breath of mine drowned out by the storm. He was close, maybe just on the other side of this dumpster. I held the concrete chunk above my head, against the metal bin, ready to swing.
Lightning flashed overhead, casting the alley in stark white for a split second. I caught a glimpse of him rounding the dumpster, gun first. In that same heartbeat, I stepped out and swung the concrete block with everything I had left.
It connected with the side of his skull with a wet crunch. The gun fall from his hand, skidding away into the dark. He didn't move.
I stood there swaying, the chunk of concrete still in my hand. My own breathing sounded strange in my ears. The rain washed over both of us. The man's eyes were closed, blood from a gash on his head mixing with the rainwater and running in pale rivulets along the ground. I nudged him with my foot. I wasn't inclined to check closer.
A sharp pain lanced through my side then, reminding me I was far from okay. I dropped the concrete and pressed a hand to my midsection. When I pulled it away, it was dark with blood. I was bleeding bad. My head throbbed where he'd clipped me. My lungs wheezed. Vision kept threatening to tunnel.
I staggered a few steps further down the alley, away from the prone thug, and leaned against the wet brick wall of the next building. The rough surface and cold rain against my back were the only things keeping me upright. I had to move. If the smaller guy was still up, he might come looking and even if not, this commotion might draw security or cops.
Usually, seeing flashing blue lights after a fight felt like relief. Not tonight. I didn't have it in me to explain anything, I barely knew what had just happened znd even if I tried, who'd believe me?
I pushed off the wall, nearly collapsing as a wave of dizziness hit.
Easy... One foot in front of the other, Bale.
The alley led out to a side street if I remembered right, just a dozen more yards. I forced myself onward. Every few steps I had to catch myself on the wall or a dumpster, gasping. My vision blurred, headlights and neon smearing together in the distance beyond the alley's mouth.
At last I reached the street. It was nearly empty at this late hour. A busted streetlamp sputtered, throwing pale light on glistening pavement. Across the way, a couple of junkies under an awning watched me with dull curiosity,a half-naked man in a hospital gown, barefoot and bleeding, stumbling out of the dark. In this city, that probably wasn't even the strangest thing they'd see tonight.
I paused under the flickering lamp, rain drumming on my shoulders. My breath steamed in the cold air. I took one last look behind me, down the black alley. No movement, no silhouettes giving chase.
A tremor of pain nearly buckled my knees and I clutched my side with a grimace. Blood seeped between my fingers. I needed to find shelter, patch myself up. But where? My apartment was across town and likely being watched, if these bastards were thorough. I sure as hell couldn't go back to the hospital. Marty was probably home asleep by now, and even if he wasn't, he hadn't believed a word I said.
I limped forward into the neon-stained shadows.
Collapsed to my knees, strength finally giving out. The street spun around me. I triggered my neural comlink.
"Roger..." I whispered.
[Location sent.]
Then everything went dark.