Chapter 11

Titus walked down the side street sandwiched between Roman and Hudson. They’d been on the move for about two hours and had found nothing worth noting, except the couple getting it on outside the Black Cuff, the two cats doing the same in an alley, and a college kid passed out on the sidewalk. They’d woken him, bought him coffee and pancakes at Denny’s, then put him on the light rail back to the Arizona State University, or ASU.

He had to admit, it felt good to be outside doing something productive instead of sitting in his room buried under a pile of misery. Although it felt as though he struggled with each step, he inhaled the crisp night air, glad he’d made the effort to do something tonight.

“We better check the alleyways again,” Roman mumbled. “Something’s not right.”

“I agree,” Hudson muttered. “Something’s got me feeling like I have bugs under my skin.”

Titus followed them down the narrow pathways in between the high, brick buildings. Muffled voices sounded in his ears, and he could only assume they came from the televisions they could hear through the open windows of the apartments. The only light in the alleyway shone from the very few security lamps that still worked. They weren’t in a good part of town and the hairs on the back of his neck began to tingle.

A cat startled him as it scurried out from under a dumpster. He stopped and took a deep breath, trying to calm his pounding heart.

Then he heard a strange sound coming from his left.

A window sat open just a couple of inches, and he squinted as he tried to see in through the tinted glass. What had he heard?

A grunt, and a distinct gurgling noise. Furrowing his brow, he tried to remember where he’d heard the sound before. Sweat broke out on his brow, and he stepped closer to the window.

“Let’s go,” Hudson said in a low voice, waving at him to follow.

He shook his head and brought his forefinger to his lips, motioning for silence. What went on in someone’s private apartment shouldn’t concern him, yet his anxiety intensified. If caught breaking and entering, the police would be called, and that would open up a can of crap none of them wanted to deal with. However, the noise he heard had him worried, so he threw caution to the wind and placed his fingers under the window, pulling upward. With a little effort, it rose, and he looked inside.

A male and female stood above someone lying in a bed, the male leaning forward. Titus squinted in the dim light and realized the male had his hands around the person’s neck.

That’s where he’d recognized the sound from—the distinct gurgle of someone being choked to death. He’d heard it before when Micah had murdered a Colonist offspring before they’d aligned with the Colonist, Daniel, to kill the Saviors.

He had no idea what was going on in the apartment. It could be some weird sexual thing the three of them had going on, or could he be witnessing a murder? This could very well be their break if the two attackers were Colonist offspring.

Only one way to find out.

He raised the window all the way, surprised by how quiet it was. Taking two steps back, he launched himself through the air and flew through the open space.

Hudson and Roman cursed outside, and surprise washed over the attackers’ faces. They immediately lunged at him as he rose from the floor, the male taking him back down, his shoulder landing on the old hardwood with a thud.

Making a fist, he slammed it into the assailant’s nose. The distinct crack of a broken bone sounded throughout the apartment, followed by a primal scream of pain. Titus pushed the male off him as the female came at him.

It went against everything in his being to hit a female, but when she brought her knee to his groin, he lashed out and smacked her across on the cheek and pushed her to the ground.

The male got up again, his face a bloody mess. Titus glanced at the victim on the bed. His eyes remained shut, and Titus wondered if he was dead or simply passed out.

The attacker lunged at him again, and he hit him in the stomach, causing him to double over. Titus brought his knee to his face, finally causing the male to crumple to the floor.

He breathed heavy, making sure the male didn’t move.

Hudson crawled through the window and looked around. “What the hell is this all about?”

“These two were trying to kill that guy in the bed.”

“And you know this how?”

“I heard the gurgling of someone being strangled.”

He glanced around the small bedroom while Hudson checked the victim for a pulse.

A small desk had been jammed into the corner and stood littered with magazines and papers. The victim lay in a double bed fully dressed, a small nightstand to the side. Based on that fact the victim wore clothes, he could assume this wasn’t some strange sexual stuff and he had stopped a murder. Hudson picked up a needle and sheet of tin foil from the top of the dresser at the foot of the bed.

“He’s got a pulse, but this is why he’s not waking up.”

“Drugs?”

“Yeah. Nasty shit, let me tell you. This is most likely heroin, the same stuff Blake was addicted to.”

Titus looked at the long cylinder. “Why would anyone want to put a needle in their body?”

Hudson shrugged. “You and I can’t understand it.”

“Where’s Roman?”

“I told him to wait outside to make sure the police weren’t on their way or no one else became interested in the noise from this place.”

He bent down and felt relieved both his attackers breathed, although the male with the broken nose seemed to have a bit of trouble. He pushed him over so he lay on his side.

“So, what do you think we have here?” Hudson asked.

“I’m not sure.”

Hudson stared down at the two on the floor. “I wish there was a way to know if these dirt bags were Colonist offspring.”

Titus sighed. That was the thing about these horrible humans—there simply wasn’t a way to tell if they possessed the Colonist genes. He sensed an interrogation coming on as Hudson picked up the woman and brought her to the window.

“Hey, Roman. Take this piece of shit, would you?”