BANDO’S BARKING SNAPPED Lamont’s attention back. He turned. Footsteps were approaching fast from around the corner. Seconds later, two young men burst into view, one stocky, the other tall and gawky. Both breathing heavy, eyes wild.
“Let’s go! Let’s go!” said the stocky one. But his companion hesitated, bent over, chest heaving.
“I can’t!” he wheezed. “No more! I can’t!”
“They’ll kill us this time,” his friend said. “C’mon! Move!”
When Lamont stepped out from the other side of the utility pole, the men looked up, terrified, as Bando kept barking. Lamont heard the tromp of heavy footsteps in double-time rhythm from the darkness behind them. Disciplined. Relentless. Close.
Lamont looked to the left. A huge metal garbage bin sat at the edge of the sidewalk, angled back from the pavement. He stepped forward and scooped Bando up in his arms. He looked one man in the eyes, then the other.
“Don’t run,” he said calmly. He pointed to the bin. “Hide there.”
The men stared back at Lamont. Then, without a word, they hurried to the side of the massive container. The chunky man lifted the heavy rubber lid. The bin released a powerful stench of decay and filth, but neither man flinched. The stronger one cupped his hands and hoisted his skinny buddy over the edge. Then he muscled his way up and swung himself over.
Lamont stood in the middle of the sidewalk with Bando in his arms. Within seconds, flashlight beams hit him square in the face, so bright he could barely make out the men behind them. He raised his hand against the glare. Now he could see that there were four of them. Black uniforms. Black helmets. Black guns.
“Which way?” the lead officer shouted.
Bando growled. The officer stepped closer. Lamont could see himself reflected in his dark helmet visor.
“Two men!” the leader said. “Which way?”
Lamont tightened his grip on Bando. He pointed down a dark side street.
Bando growled again. The lead officer aimed his pistol directly at his snout. “Control your animal,” he said to Lamont. Then he followed the rest of his squad into the darkness.
After the police disappeared, Lamont walked back and knocked gently against the bin. He lifted the lid partway and looked inside. The men had burrowed into the garbage. Their now filthy faces stared back like doll heads from under the stinking refuse.
“They’re gone,” said Lamont, flipping the lid open. “Have a beautiful night.”
“And you as well,” came two voices in unison.
Lamont headed back toward the apartment. Bando skittered ahead, sniffing everything and anything on the way. The wind was kicking up. Lamont’s head was still throbbing. But he realized that there was probably a lot more pain in store. Because if he knew about Khan, the odds were that Khan knew about him, too.