Rise of the Dark Heroes (BOOK #1)

Chapter Fourteen

STEVIE

MY FEET were bounding fiercely off the tarmac as I pursued the robber, splashing through puddles and elegantly leaping over cracks. He was in my sights, and I refused to let him get away. It was odd because even though the thief had a decent head start, he was still in a close perimeter for me to catch him. He didn't even attempt to shake me like I would have anticipated. Initially, I figured he had no sense I was chasing him, but he continued to look back at me and now and then. He knew I was on his tail.

I ordered him to stop, although I knew it was pointless. The day a crook actually listens to me is the day I quit this whole hero gig. For some reason, it made me feel like I was in control, so I persisted in urging him to give back whatever he had stolen. My legs were starting to tire out, but I knew that if I was getting fatigued, my target must be as well, inspiring me to continue.

About fifteen yards down from him, I noticed my target slip a right and flip over a fence. I followed him, vaulting over the metal barricade, and performed a front flip on my way down. Once I landed, I observed I was on a dirt parking lot commonly used for the shipping harbor workers. I could see the shipment containments stacked in the distance, perceiving I had run a long way.

The thief stopped in front of a jacked-up black van parked on the dirt, too weak to carry on. He leaned against the van, his chest hitching up and down. I was winded as well, but I swiftly found my composure. I marched up to him, pretending that my legs didn't feel like pudding. The man had a black bandana secured around his face, making it hard to read his emotions. If I squinted, I could make out dark eyes and tan skin behind his disguise. I would have been surprised if he was my age or any younger, considering his stature. He was built, not at all skinny, but I could take him if I were forced to.

I swallowed down my weariness from the run, my throat dryer than dirt. "Just give me what you took from the man," I ordered.

The man wasted no time in reacting. He reached back and banged on the van behind him, refusing to steer away from my watch.

Bang, bang!

I was bewildered to find all doors of the van flinging open at his command, and two more men emerged from the vehicle. They marched out like soldiers on a mission, their eyes trained on me like I was their kill. In a snap, I appeared outnumbered. Taking a step back, I studied the trio. Each dressed like the first man—bandanas over their faces and dark eyes, all larger than myself in every way possible.

Fear started mounting in me as I realized I couldn't fight the three at once. If there was one thing Dark had taught me recently, it was to be brave but not stupid. I had to turn back and get help. Sure, it would make me appear as a coward, but I couldn't stand the thought of letting Dark down. He would scold me for staying to fight.

My boots pivoted in the soggy dirt, and my body prepared to break out into a sprint until an unexpected figure suddenly stopped me. I ran directly into a dark-skinned man, the same man I had left Dark behind to watch. I looked up at him, wondering why he was here before me and not lying helpless in the alleyway with my friend. Speaking of, where was Dark? What did he do to him?

The man had seized my arm as I ran into him. In a flash, he drove his other hand toward my neck, and shortly after, I felt a hard pinch. I was shocked to find a syringe embedded in my neck. Impulsively, I attempted to pry away the fist that clutched the needle, but he had already pressed down on the plunge, sending whatever liquid inside seeping into my system. My body suddenly went into shock. If the syringe had some kind of toxin within, then I was sure to die in minutes, if not seconds.

My eyes grew wide at the man, wondering if he was the last person I was ever to see before I died right there. I prayed otherwise; he was quite ugly. He had a face that I could tell had been in multiple fights: a firm jawline, crooked nose, and dark teeth.