A Small Gray Dot

This called for a change of plans. Only an idiot wouldn’t have seen that Morgan didn’t want to be with Talbert, and though he’d seemed to think so, I’m not an idiot. He could’ve remained quiet and never said anything when I came to the door but having seen how arrogant the guy was, I wasn’t surprised he told the doctor to invite me in. I had the feeling he wanted to prove how much he was in charge of the situation. Or he was simply stupid.

Originally, I was going to follow them until they got far enough away from Carter Street, and then advise Talbert that it would be in his best interest to let the girl go. There were a couple of times in the past when I had to get someone away from an abductor, so I was prepared to do that if necessary. If he objected, I thought I could persuade him.

The other man showing up was an added wrinkle. From what he was wearing, he was a guard and they always carried a gun, plus he was a big beefy guy. I’d have to handle this with a bit more finesse since Talbert was certain to have a gun, too. I hurried as fast as my three-quarters frozen body would take me down the ladder I’d used to climb to the roof of the garage.

With movement, I began to thaw by the time I got down to the corner. I spotted Talbert’s almost neon blue jacket as they passed under one of the scarce streetlamps. Less bright was Morgan’s jacket, which was more of a mustard than bright yellow. She walked between the two and the brown jacket of the guard was an almost invisible blur. Talbert had her by the hand but she appeared to be leaning away from him. They reached the block where Spruce Street abutted Main. I thought they would turn down Spruce, toward his place, but they kept going straight. A couple of dark outlines wandered near them, and Morgan flinched but Talbert and the guard ignored them. I supposed they were used to them and didn’t want to get lost.

Neither did I so I kept my eyes on him and got as close as I felt was safe. Morgan took a quick look behind them as the dim figures moved by, and it was too dark to see her expression but if she saw me, she made no indication to Talbert or the guard. The sidewalk was in decent shape with not much noise-producing debris lying about, so because they were concentrating on their destination, I was confident they wouldn’t hear me. With the streetlamp receding behind us, in the event either of them chanced looking back, I kept near the buffer trees at the edge of the walkway so that I would be harder to spot. They approached the side road that led to Semptor Labs.

I didn’t know if Semptor Labs was their target but even if it wasn’t, that was a deserted road and it wouldn’t be good to allow them to take Morgan down that path so I increased my speed.

I was within five feet when my foot scraped a rock on the sidewalk. Talbert whipped around, his eyes going round when he saw me.

“Wha—”

I moved fast covering the last few feet, and “finessed” my booted foot into the side of his right kneecap, hard. He yelled and fell to the ground grasping his leg, and Morgan jumped away from him.

The surprised guard hollered, “What the fuck?” and grabbed at Morgan who had the good sense to scramble away from him.

He was fumbling at the holster on his side when I plowed into him and deliberately banged my head underneath his chin. As he started going down, I finished getting his sidearm out for him. He hit the ground hard falling on his ass, and went over backward banging the back of his head. He lay still. At the same time Morgan yelled, “Look out!” and I whirled around to see Talbert, who’d quit yelling about his leg, pulling a gun from a jacket pocket. Before he could bring it up, I clicked the safety off the guard’s gun and aimed it at his head.

“Put it down,” I said.

With his eyes on the .45, he laid his gun on the sidewalk.

“Slide it to me.”

He gave it a shove and it fetched up against my boot. Keeping my eyes and the gun trained on him, I picked it up. I almost snorted at the little .25. I thought he’d have something bigger. No wonder he gave it up so quickly. Had he shot me with it, unless something outlandish happened – like, say, he managed to hit me in an eye – I would’ve blown him away with the .45. Apparently, he was smart enough to know that. I slid it into a jacket pocket. He sat there glowering at me. Morgan stood gazing down at him from about four feet away.

“Morgan,” I said quietly. “I was informed that you left with this man willingly. Do you still want to be with him?” I didn’t think I was wrong, but one could never tell.