Shadestalker #2
Blood. 20 dollar bills. A haze of gun smoke. His best friend smiling the way killers do.
This was the whole scene, but Reggie Evans could only see it in fragmented, distorted little pieces. The color black still held dominion over his field of vision, existing in small shadow-like pools, censoring the things he didn’t want to see.
Chief among them, the corpse of a man named Earl.
“$180.00,” Devon Lane said, flipping through the roll of 20s again.
“What?” Reggie asked, still catatonic, unsure of how his lips had even moved.
“That was in the register,” Devon muttered. “Couldn’t find the safe.”
“$180.00,” Reggie replied as his muscles thawed out. He moved his right arm slowly to his hair. Something pressed against his finger. Something sticky, warm. Something that had been alive moments earlier.
It was a piece of Earl’s ear. It was a wake up call.
