(Well, another user and I got it into our heads to make a story together. In it, we would alternate scenes, not knowing what the other is going to post but going along the same general path. Guess we'll see how it turns out.)
We would never stop doing it, the work that is. Besides the thrill, well, it had to be done. I grabbed my baton, the one with the black leather, and walked out the door.
“Where did you see the man?” I paused, waiting for an answer that didn’t come.
“Shadow. Are you there? I’m at 4th and Brooks, by the store. I don’t see anyone. Is this the right place?”
Still no answer. I was starting to get anxious, my hand grazing the baton at my side. It was dark, no one would see me. I was dressed in black jeans and a black pullover. The hood pulled up wish my mask on. Not a trade-mark mask by any means, something simple. Rather, a plain black headband with two eye holes cut out. Then the voice came.
“Sorry about that” There was a pause followed by heavy breathing.
“I’m chasing him now, we’re headed your way. He might see you, hide behind the dumpster. Should be one around there.”
The call ended. I did see the dumpster, off to my left. Already hearing the footsteps, I made my way toward it.
