I crouched behind a dumpster, covered in sweat, sucking in deep breaths. The stalker kept up the taunts, giving away his position. Could he be more confident? Gunfire ricocheted off the metal garbage bin. I counted to three, leaned around the edge for a quick check. No one was there, but shots rained in and I slammed back. Peeking through a crack between the lid and the rim, I saw him, heading down the alley, kicking huge garbage cans out of his way as if they were Styrofoam cups. He was ridiculously strong . . . headed straight for me.