I could feel drool leak from the corner of my mouth. Stupid valium. Stupid me. Tracker pushed himself out of the window in a single motion and landed on the asphalt with catlike grace. Bit was taking deliberate steps away from the five, including the smiling Tracker.

Tracker spoke, “Bit, you knew, from the moment I stepped into your life where I would take you. And you agreed that it was far better than where you were headed. Why the change of heart now? Is it that boy? You don’t even know him.” The anger was seeping through. The Russian circling like a predatory cat. Her face was changing in subtle ways.

I looked at the others. None of them had spoken a single word. Now I could see why. The last human vision I will ever remember is of the mouthless faces of the last three Riders. And of Tracker holding Bit while Russian Blonde injected the fowl green liquid from the syringe into her jugular.

He dropped Bit on the road and turned to the squad car. Panic consumed me. Unfortunately, so did blackness.