Chapter 48

“Give me your phone,” the target said, coming up next to the driver.

“I don’t think so,” Brax replied between gritted teeth. “Move and I shoot. Drop the knife.” With his free hand, he took out his phone, dialing 911.

The driver feinted toward him with the knife, and Brax fired. He missed. In the brief time it took for him to shoot again, the two men split up, racing out of the lot. Brax held his fire, not wanting to chance hitting a passing pedestrian. Snapping his phone off, since it was a bit late to report what had happened, Brax teleported to the clinic. Doc Wilson was there, as usual in the evenings. He took one look at Brax, then steered him into an exam room.

“You’ll live,” Wilson said after examining Brax’s wound and bandaging it. “Go home, get some sleep. You’ll be fine in the morning. I hope the other guy got the worst of your confrontation.”

“Unfortunately, not. But I did what I was hired for, so I’m all right with it.”