The Warrior

John had been there before, watching the looks on people’s faces, seeing the doubt, then the fear. Sometimes it bothered him. Sometimes it didn’t. Today was one of those didn’t-bother-him days, and besides, there were things yet to be done. He glanced down at Dieter’s unconscious body, then pulled his cell phone out of his pocket.

“Who are you calling?” Alicia asked, then got her answer when he began to talk.

“Hi, Carl, this is John Nightwalker again.”

“Hey, John. How you doin’?”

“Oh…okay, I guess—although I’ve had better days. Someone just broke into my property and took a couple of shots at me. Shot out a tire and my radiator, too.”

“For the love of Pete! You don’t say. Hang on. I’ll dispatch some help right out to you.”

John winced, then shifted the weight from his right leg to his left. “Thanks. I’ve got it under control, but I want to press charges. Could you send someone out to pick him up? Oh…you’ll also need a wrecker for his vehicle. I’ll be needing a wrecker, too, but I’ll call Shelby’s Garage down in Justice.”

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