Chapter 17

“Johnny Knight?” the caller asked, breathing rather briskly. The man’s unfamiliar voice had some scratch to it, and it wasn’t at all clear.

“Speaking. Who is this?” I asked, keeping the truck on the bridge.

“Enjoy the gift I left you, Johnny Knight,” the caller said, clicked off, and ended the call.

I tried to redial the number, but unavailable callback numberappeared on the screen and the call wouldn’t go through. The truck veered to the left, into oncoming vehicles, and I decided not to risk my life, or others on October Road. I simply tossed the phone into the passenger seat where I had found it and continued my drive north, toward Vanmer and home

* * * *

Five minutes later I found exactly what the mysterious caller had spoken of during our brief talk. A bloody Vipers’ helmet was on my Tudor’s front stoop. I stared at it in confusion, shook my head, and admitted to no one but myself, “You’re in deep, Knight. Be careful from here out. Be very careful.”Part 3: Flexibility