items. The man curled up, covering his head and yelping when one of the teens grabbed something heavy from the pile and hit him with it. He cried out again when one of the teens kicked him.
“Having fun, boys?” Reaper asked from a few feet away.
“Look, guys, this piece of shit has a friend,” the biggest teen said, spinning around to face him. “Where’s your shopping cart? I thought all you people had them.”
Getting in the teen’s face, Reaper growled, “Like all you punks have no brains?”
“Oh boy, we have a brave one,” the teen crowed, making a grab for Reaper’s arm. Suddenly, he was on the ground with Reaper towering over him.
“You like kicking people when they’re down?” Reaper asked. “Well, turnabout is fair play, wouldn’t you say?” He landed a hard kick to the teen’s hip.
Wrath came into view. He reached for the smallest teen, who darted out of the way. The third teen picked up a thick stick from the pile beside the cart, holding it threateningly.
“I dare you,” Wrath told him, smirking.
The kid lunged at him, swinging the stick. Wrath ducked, kicking out his leg to trip the teen. As the boy started to fall, Wrath grabbed his arm, twisting it behind his back. Wrath let out a whoof of air when the smallest one tackled him. If Wrath hadn’t been holding the other teen, he would have fallen. As it was, Wrath spun him around by his arm, using him as a battering ram to knock the small boy down. A popping sound, followed by a scream of pain, let Wrath know he’d dislocated the teen’s shoulder in the process.
By then, Reaper had pulled the bulky one to his feet. “If I was you,” Reaper told him, “I’d gather up my friends and get the hell out of here before we turn all of you into pulp.”
The punk looked for a moment as if he was going to argue the point, so Reaper backhanded him.
“If we ever see the three of you hassling the homeless again,” Reaper said angrily, “what we did to you tonight will seem like child’s play. Understand?”
The teen muttered, “If we don’t take care of you first,” but he backed away fearfully. Then he and the other one helped their companion, who was crying with pain, out of the park.
“Thank you, thank you,” the homeless man said, staggering to his feet. He rubbed his shoulder, where the can had hit it, wincing.
“Are you going to be okay?” Wrath asked with concern.
“Had worse than this done to me,” he replied. He thanked him when Wrath righted the shopping cart, and with Wrath’s and Reaper’s help, he got everything back into it.
“You take care,” Reaper said. “And get something to protect yourself.”
“Had that stick, but they surprised me,” the man told him.
Reaper nodded. “A piece of rebar works better, but you have to keep it with you when you crash, not in the cart.”
The guy smiled wryly. “I’ll remember that, for next time.”
After saying goodbye, Reaper and Wrath left the park. They walked half a block before Reaper felt his phone—the one he was using for China and her friends to contact him—vibrate. He dug it out.
Zip here. Brown Chevy, missing hubcap, Park & 6 th .
Reaper texted back.
Thanks. Coming. Keep an eye on it if you can.
He got one back a moment later.
Gonna try.
“We’ve got a date with another one of the predators.”
“The ones going after the girls?” Wrath asked.
“Yep. Let’s move it.”
It took them five minutes, going at a dead run, to get to the address Zip had given Reaper. The boy wasn’t in sight, but a girl stepped out of the shadows. She looked puzzled for a second then asked tentatively, “You Reaper? You don’t look like what they said.”
“I am,” Reaper told her.
“Okay. Zip and Colly took off that way.” She pointed. “Said to tell you the car was heading toward Seventh, where some of the girls hang out, moving slow.”
“Thanks.”
“Cruising for a victim, I suspect,” Wrath said as they walked
“Having fun, boys?” Reaper asked from a few feet away.
“Look, guys, this piece of shit has a friend,” the biggest teen said, spinning around to face him. “Where’s your shopping cart? I thought all you people had them.”
Getting in the teen’s face, Reaper growled, “Like all you punks have no brains?”
“Oh boy, we have a brave one,” the teen crowed, making a grab for Reaper’s arm. Suddenly, he was on the ground with Reaper towering over him.
“You like kicking people when they’re down?” Reaper asked. “Well, turnabout is fair play, wouldn’t you say?” He landed a hard kick to the teen’s hip.
Wrath came into view. He reached for the smallest teen, who darted out of the way. The third teen picked up a thick stick from the pile beside the cart, holding it threateningly.
“I dare you,” Wrath told him, smirking.
The kid lunged at him, swinging the stick. Wrath ducked, kicking out his leg to trip the teen. As the boy started to fall, Wrath grabbed his arm, twisting it behind his back. Wrath let out a whoof of air when the smallest one tackled him. If Wrath hadn’t been holding the other teen, he would have fallen. As it was, Wrath spun him around by his arm, using him as a battering ram to knock the small boy down. A popping sound, followed by a scream of pain, let Wrath know he’d dislocated the teen’s shoulder in the process.
By then, Reaper had pulled the bulky one to his feet. “If I was you,” Reaper told him, “I’d gather up my friends and get the hell out of here before we turn all of you into pulp.”
The punk looked for a moment as if he was going to argue the point, so Reaper backhanded him.
“If we ever see the three of you hassling the homeless again,” Reaper said angrily, “what we did to you tonight will seem like child’s play. Understand?”
The teen muttered, “If we don’t take care of you first,” but he backed away fearfully. Then he and the other one helped their companion, who was crying with pain, out of the park.
“Thank you, thank you,” the homeless man said, staggering to his feet. He rubbed his shoulder, where the can had hit it, wincing.
“Are you going to be okay?” Wrath asked with concern.
“Had worse than this done to me,” he replied. He thanked him when Wrath righted the shopping cart, and with Wrath’s and Reaper’s help, he got everything back into it.
“You take care,” Reaper said. “And get something to protect yourself.”
“Had that stick, but they surprised me,” the man told him.
Reaper nodded. “A piece of rebar works better, but you have to keep it with you when you crash, not in the cart.”
The guy smiled wryly. “I’ll remember that, for next time.”
After saying goodbye, Reaper and Wrath left the park. They walked half a block before Reaper felt his phone—the one he was using for China and her friends to contact him—vibrate. He dug it out.
Zip here. Brown Chevy, missing hubcap, Park & 6 th .
Reaper texted back.
Thanks. Coming. Keep an eye on it if you can.
He got one back a moment later.
Gonna try.
“We’ve got a date with another one of the predators.”
“The ones going after the girls?” Wrath asked.
“Yep. Let’s move it.”
It took them five minutes, going at a dead run, to get to the address Zip had given Reaper. The boy wasn’t in sight, but a girl stepped out of the shadows. She looked puzzled for a second then asked tentatively, “You Reaper? You don’t look like what they said.”
“I am,” Reaper told her.
“Okay. Zip and Colly took off that way.” She pointed. “Said to tell you the car was heading toward Seventh, where some of the girls hang out, moving slow.”
“Thanks.”
“Cruising for a victim, I suspect,” Wrath said as they walked
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