Hellcat

Chapter 72

Karen called me later that night. She'd found out where Jasper Evans might be and asked me to follow her. You know, keep an eye from a distance. To say it was strange to wear my Hell Cat suit after so long was an understatement. The last time I wore it was at Midland Circle. This suit had meant a lot of things to me over the years, but that night changed it forever. It was a symbol of my failure. A symbol of my loss. A symbol of sacrifice.

I stayed crouched on the rooftop across the way, watching Karen as she got out of her car and headed down the sidewalk. This was a dangerous block, full of criminals. Guess that made sense since we were hunting one down. She passed by a large can that had a fire in it, glass shattering somewhere down the street. She ignored it, glancing down the street before heading to a building with a red light by the basement door.

I did my part, following at a distance as she entered the basement. I could hear the music from inside, knowing no one else could. If anyone had been watching, they would have wondered why Hell Cat was heading right into a drug den. Or maybe not. The lighting inside the building was dim. Mostly a few red lightbulbs and some candles. I watched from the doorway, listening to Karen's footsteps move slowly inside.

"You lost?" a young man's voice barked at her. He didn't seem too threatening, even though he tried to be. It was probably because Karen didn't look like the people he was used to. "Not if you're holding," she replied simply, voice low. "You a cop?" the young man asked, skepticism in his voice. Karen let out a breathy chuckle. "Doesn't matter what I am. I'm just looking for a couple of teeners," she grumbled to him. Teeners? Even I wasn't sure what that meant. How did she know exactly what to say? A moment later, I heard some rustling. "That'll be $80," the young man told her. More rustling. "And a crash," Karen added as I heard money being flipped through.

Karen's footsteps headed off after a moment, and I followed, careful to stay out of sight of the young man. He looked like he was barely twenty as I passed him, moving further into the den with Karen. She moved through a large hallway, and I stayed just out of sight. She knew I was there, but I didn't want any of the sleeping druggies knowing. Not that I couldn't take them, but they just wouldn't stay down at times. I was faintly aware of the sounds of a cooking show in another room, but I ignored it, staying focused on Karen, and finding Jasper Evans. The floorboards creaked beneath her as she moved through the hall, watching the sleeping addicts with strangely haunted eyes.

Finally, she paused by one that was sleeping alone, farther away from the others. "Hey," she muttered, crouching beside him. The man let out a groan, his head lulling to the side as he began to wake up. "Hey, uh... you point me towards Jasper Evans..." Karen started, pulling the drugs she'd bought from her jacket pocket. "...this is yours."

The man looked at the drugs in her hands, but he didn't get a chance to accept her offer because another man spoke. "What's it to you?" he asked, coming up behind her. Karen stood, turning to face him with fear hidden in her eyes, drugs still in hand. "Everybody out," the man – Jasper Evans – snapped at the other druggies. I recognized him from the mugshot Karen had showed me. Everyone began to stir, moving slowly at Jasper's words. "Get out!" he shouted at them all. They began to scramble, groaning in annoyance.

"Jasper Evans?" Karen guessed correctly as I saw the young man come up behind her. He barely had a chance to reach for her before I grabbed his shaggy hair, tossing him to the ground. A grunt came from the young man who seemed to struggle to get to his feet. Another grunt of pain came from down the hall and my gaze snapped up in time to see a man in all black, scarf covering the upper half of his face.

My shock was cut short by something crashing into my back. I slammed into the wall, groaning as the rage built up inside me. Someone was pressed against me, keeping me down. The thing was, that never worked. The way I was angled was perfect because I had enough room to bring my leg up, slamming my heel onto my attacker's knee. He cried out in pain, releasing me as I spun around.