Life in Shadows by Elliott Kay

explained to the rookie beside her. “All the
way from Shoreline down to the north side of the bridge into Queen Anne. The
Woodland Park zone gave you a break from it, but as soon as you were out of
that area, bam. More mess, more skeezy people. This area has come a long way.”
    Officer
Angela Weir gave a nod, listening to her attentively. She was a little
intimidated by the sergeant. Claudia was confident, tough and businesslike. The
two had met before, with Claudia serving as one of Angela’s unarmed combat
instructors at the academy. The sergeant was also pretty, with the sort of
smooth golden skin that women would kill for, and her boyish haircut didn’t
make her look masculine.
    “Yeah,
I remember from when I was in college,” Angela said. “Growing up in Kent, I
didn’t come out here a lot, but the couple times I did and wound up on this
road, I thought it looked pretty sketchy.”
    “It’s
a good word for it. Still not the greatest in the city, but—” Claudia suddenly
held up her hand and slowed the car. The sustained roll of popping noises came
straight through the patrol car’s open windows. Then it stopped.
    “Think
that was off to the right up here,” suggested Angela, gesturing out her window.
    Claudia
frowned. “We better go check that out,” she said, pulling off to the far right
lane and making ready to turn. “This close to the Fourth, we get a lot of kids
playing with all the stuff they buy off the reservations, but—woah!”
    The
blue pick-up truck swerved out into traffic right in front of them. They saw
two people in the cargo bed. One wore denim. The other was shirtless. Both
flailed and grabbed hold of the truck’s sides for dear life. Claudia hit the
accelerator and went into pursuit. “You know how to call it in?” she asked
urgently.
    “Yeah,”
Angela nodded, reaching for the radio. “Yeah, I can. I just—”
    Words
failed her. She looked on as the two men in the pick-up both rose to their
feet, readying punches for one another. The guy in the denim jacket and ski
mask threw a right hook, only to have it blocked and countered by the… naked
guy?
    Naked.
Stark, raving naked. Fit, trim, focused on his fight, and turned out to give
both women a prime frontal view as he fended off his opponent.
    “Okay,”
Angela faltered, “maybe I don’t know how to call that in.”
    “Holy
shit,” burst Claudia, “is that motherfucker Murray?”
     
    *   *   *
     
    Block.
Backfist. Jab. Balance balance wwwwooooah!
    Preferring
not to fall out of the truck, Kevin flopped onto his back in the cargo bed. His
opponent did likewise, slumping once more into the corner closest to the
passenger cab. The guy reached into his jacket for something. Kevin didn’t want
him to have it, whatever it was, so he launched out his foot in a horizontal
stomp that plunged into the guy’s belly.
    Kevin
heaved himself at his opponent, throwing his elbow at the guy’s head. He caught
nothing but metal for it and winced at the pain. They rolled around together,
wrestling for a dominant position.
    “You’re
under arrest!” Kevin yelled.
    “Get
offa me you naked fuck!” the other retorted.
    The
shooter had a greater advantage in weight and size, but he wasn’t quick to
adapt to the shifting environment. Kevin slipped out of his grasp, wound up
crouching over him and grabbed just enough of the ski mask to pull it out of
joint, covering the man’s eyes. That made it easier to follow up with a
crushing punch to the face.
    They
heard sirens. Kevin glanced back to see the cop car following them. On the one
hand, it was a relief, and on the other he doubted it would do much of anything
for him. The guy in the cargo bed was still trying to kill him.
    So
were his buddies. Kevin heard the passenger cab’s back window slide open, and
looked just in time to see the passenger pointing a gun out at him. He slapped
it away, heard it go off, and then grabbed for the hand holding it and yanked
it out. Kevin twisted