The Artful (Shadows of the City)

The Artful (Shadows of the City) Read Free

Book: The Artful (Shadows of the City) Read Free
Author: Wilbert Stanton
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me. I barely had time to catch my breath before a blow hit the back of my head.
    I was on the floor before I could fully gather my senses. My ears were ringing, and I was certain I was concussed. That’s what happens to people who take bad blows to the head, right? My vision took its time returning. Everything was gray, blurred, and spinning. I realized I still had my goggles on, so I lifted them off my eyes. No, the world was still spinning.
    “Son of a bitch!” Someone stood over me, smiling from ear to ear with sparkling white, gapped teeth. His hair was a shock of curly black. He went in and out of focus. “You all right there?” A sharp slap across my face brought everything back into focus.
    “Smith?” I asked, sitting up. “What are you doing here?”
    “Come on, man. What do you think? Supply drop today, which means it’s open season for anyone who knows the knowing.”
    He offered me a hand; my legs were still unreliable so I stumbled over to a counter for support. “Why’d you hit me?”
    “‘Cause that big bastard of a Suit just spent the better part of today threatening to beat the crap out of me. Thought you were him, coming back for more.”
    “I’m clearly not. How could you confuse us?”
    “I closed my eyes,” he mumbled.
    “What?”
    “I closed my eyes, whatever. Okay, let’s just not talk about that anymore, forever. You still run with Dodge?”
    As if on cue, we heard the clatter of many footsteps running outside. We stood as false statues, trying to mask the fear that ran through our bodies. We were trapped in a room, filled with medications, pills, and syrups. It was like a pharaoh’s tomb, surrounded by an endless supply of treasure, with no way out. The window, our only hope of escape, lay open, letting in a faint breeze, ever so enticing. The doorknob rattled. We held our breath. The rattling stopped just in time to save me from having a heart attack. Smith paced back and forth, mumbling enough obscenities to embarrass the dirtiest of street thugs. It was almost reassuring to see things never changed.

    Dodger had been gone too long, not knowing where he was mad me nervous. He was too much a loose cannon on his own. Unchecked, he would always let his mischievous nature get the best of him.
    “Dude, we should just leave, do you think we should leave? I’m thinking we should leave!”
    “We can’t leave without him.” My stomach dropped knowing Smith might leave me no choice. I could only plead my case. Once Smith’s heart was set on something, there was no changing his mind. “You know Dodge; he’s having a laugh. But he’d never do anything too reckless―” I was lying, trying to calm Smith down. At this point, I could use all the help I could get, and I needed Smith to keep his wits about him.
    “Dude, It’s Dodger! He’s the reason I stopped running with you guys in the first place, because of situations like this, he’s always asking for trouble. Hadn’t had this much stress since I last saw him.”
    “Okay, yeah. He’s probably doing something reckless. But you were already here, remember? No way would he get caught.”
    “Twist, I’m not worried about him getting caught. I’m worried about
us
getting caught!”
    The door banged under the weight of a body. I ducked down behind the counter, and Smith ran over to my side. We both held our breath like foolish children. The commotion and the muffled sound of voices shocked my nerves. I strained to make out their words. The door was too thick, but it didn’t matter what they were saying. Obviously, it wasn’t anything good.
    Smith eyed the window; he wanted to make a break for it. I couldn’t blame him. We both stared out as a dim ray of morning started to creep in, painfully slow, illuminating the room in a monotone gray. Smith made his way to his knees, ready for a sprint. I imagined he wouldn’t even bother with gear. He looked about madly, his eyes shifting from door to the window lingering with

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