It was a large, black sedan, not totally conspicuous but for the fact it was following me.
My daily routine took me through the city’s industrial district, and the decision was purposeful. Rarely did a non-commercial vehicle travel these parts, so when one did, I noticed. As I walked past the battered chain-link fence surrounding an old factory, I glanced behind.
The car was nice. Very nice. Shiny, classy, European. I guessed gangster or mafia, or any of the high up drug lords in town. It didn’t matter much to me. I was grateful it wasn’t the government, but I didn’t prefer organized crime any more than the FBI.
The car was still following. I had led it to an empty parking lot, deserted but for a few seagulls roosting in the adjacent buildings. It was as good a place as any.
Beginning to run, I heard the predictable explosion of horsepower.
Good.
I angled towards a long, straight alley that stretched back into the city. With a small leap, my feet left the ground, and I fell.
Horizontally, of course.