Moonlight

Prologue

“Stupid locksmith…”

Curses drifted upward into the bleak sky above, where early morning sunlight was struggling to break through the dense layer of clouds. The meager rays pushed at the grey mass, but to no avail. The metropolis, like a great beast, slumbered.

Slowly, the beast lurched to life, stretching and groaning in the biting cold. Lights flickered on and engines roared as the city’s inhabitants bean their routine under layer upon layer to fight the chill.

One such inhabitant had begun her day with a temper as dark as the sky above her. Late, as usual, she sat huddled on her doorstep, waiting for the locksmith. Her short, dark hair whipped across her pale, freckled face as the wind picked up. Eventually, after checking her watch repeatedly, she decided to retrieve her keys by herself. She swore again as she pulled on the handle of her front door. In her haste, she had neglected to grab her keys when she went flying out the door, realizing her mistake seconds too late as the lock clicked behind her.

“He’s probably taking his bloody time,” she muttered. “Well, some of us have places to be, and sadly, cars do not start without keys.”

She laughed as she glanced over at the heap of metal parked outside her apartment, dented and rusting, one of the hubcaps missing, license plate askew.

The passenger seat window may be permanently shut, she thought fondly, but it runs.

A sudden, fierce gust of wind brought on another bout of swearing, and she hurried around to the side of the building. Her apartment was on the bottom floor in the back corner. The cramped space used to bother her, but she had been spending less and less time there. Its only function was that of a sleeping space, four walls and a door to keep out the chill and the thieves. As the years had gone by, though, she had come to realize that if someone really wanted to get in, four cracked walls were just a minor inconvenience.

Balancing precariously atop a dented box, she shoved at the small window set high in the wall above her. The bulging, cardboard box beneath her wobbled as she wrestled with the window. Suddenly, the frail latch inside snapped and the window shot upwards. The girl was pitched to the ground as the box collapsed under her, spilling its contents around her. She scrambled to her feet, ignoring the dirt that now clung to her. By making a pile out of the various articles of clothing and debris, she was able to grab the window ledge and pull herself through the tight space. With a yell, she tumbled down onto the threadbare carpet, its worn layers unable to soften the blow of the concrete floor beneath. A glance at the old clock on the wall was enough to propel her to her feet. Precious minutes were wasted as she rummaged about before emerging triumphantly, keys in hand. She squeezed the keys in her hand as if to make sure they were still there as she raced out the front door.

She paused as she passed the window, staring at the broken pieces of the lock on the floor.

It’s not like there’s anything worth stealing anyway, she thought bitterly, but it was a very small consolation.

The girl’s foul mood intensified as she wrenched open the car door and slid into the front seat; although she had closed the window, to her it looked like a beacon, drawing thieves like moths to a flame.

The engine roared to life on the fourth try, and the girl pulled onto the street quickly. The clock set in the dashboard seemed to be moving too rapidly; how did it get to be so late? The glowing green numbers flickered as the ancient car bounced over the bumpy road. They read 8:56 as the girl screeched around a corner and pulled up short behind a row of police tape stretching across a small, grimy parking lot. She leapt out of the car and slammed the door behind her. The frigid air wormed its way down the collar of her jacket even as she pulled it more tightly about her slim frame, shivering.

Having spotted a small group of people in the far corner of the lot, she ducked under the tape and started jogging toward them. A young policeman seemed to appear out of nowhere, overly agitated and babbling a mile a minute.

“You! You there! Excuse me, little girl, but this is a crime scene!” he spluttered. The girl stared at him for a few seconds before rolling her eyes and digging into an inside pocket in her jacket. After she found her wallet, she flipped it open and waved her badge in the policeman’s face.

“Happy now?” she asked, continuing on her way.

“No!” he replied, indignant. “This is not in keeping with protocol at all! Who called you out here? Who are you? Why has your department been involved with this particular incident?”

The reached the crime scene, where the girl stood with her hands on her hips, trying to drown out the rookie cop, who was still muttering behind her.

“This girl,” he panted, “is trespassing on a police investi-“

“HATCHETT!” The lead detective had just realized that someone had arrived, and not only that, but that he recognized her. “YOU-ARE-LATE!” he bellowed, spittle flying from his mouth. “An hour and a half late!”

“An hour and twenty-six minutes,” she said, quietly.

“What was that?”

“Nothing sir. Merely an apology sir.”

“Do you know what I think of apologies, Hatchett?”

“Yes sir,” she said automatically, “apologies are-“

“Sir!” the policeman interjected. “I really cannot allow this to go on any longer, sir! She has not been formally requested at this specific crime scene and is therefore trespassing on a police investigation and-“

The detective turned toward the young policeman and shouted, “Last time I checked, it was up to me who belonged at my crime scene, and Ms. Hatchett here has all the clearance she needs.”

“But sir, it isn’t strictly necessary that her department be involved! The required forms have not been filled out and approved.”

“Again, I thought I was up to me to decide what was necessary or not, and I say she stays. With her department involved, we can free up more officers in our department; we’ve been running short. But if you want to hamper the investigative activities of the police offices and reduce my task force, by all means, you go ahead and try!”

“Sir, I wasn’t suggesting you reduce the task force, I was merely commenting on the appropriateness of the situation at present.”

“Do I look like I care what you think?”

The man backed up as the detective advanced. “N-no sir, I mean, you look lovely sir, I mean-she shouldn’t be here, sir!” he stammered.

The girl sighed and left the two of them to their argument. The crime scene lay spread before her, littered with garbage but with no apparent signs of a struggle. The body was pale and bruised, and rigor had started to set in. The state of the corpse coupled with the lack of evidence at the scene led the girl to believe that what they were looking at was the secondary crime scene. The preliminary was most likely at the murderer’s house or somewhere near his home.

She turned as the detective’s voice rose.

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” he roared at the policeman, “Or do you enjoy interrupting my investigation? Hmm? Is that it?” The policeman was still retreating, shaking his head in wide-eyed fear. “STAY-AWAY-FROM-MY-CRIME-SCENE!” Every word was punctuated with a jab in the unfortunate man’s chest. “Now get out of my sight before I have you fired!”

The policeman ran off without another word, and the detective whirled around to face the girl, his face red from exertion. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but he cut her off with an impatient wave of his hand. She smirked, bending to examine the body.

“You know, he really was just doing his job,” she said pointedly. She paused, thinking, then grinned. “And I do believe those were tears in his eyes.”

The detective grunted and tossed her the evidence report. “All right, lads,” he said to the two men present, “now that Ms. Hatchett has finally decided to show her face, we can wrap this up.”

One of the men extracted a body bag from his kit while the other carefully arranged the body for easier transport. The girl sifted through the file, picking out the important details. The body was a woman’s, a prostitute, dumped in the back corner of the deserted lot. She had been strangled to death; circular bruises adorned her otherwise bare neck. A single bite mark had been found on the prostitute’s shoulder, and the wound would be cross-referenced with dental records along with a fingerprint scan. Preliminary tox-screen was negative, no signs of self-defense. Just another homicide in the crime-infested city. The girl was about to close the file when she glanced at the upper corner. The information was commonplace, unrelated to the actual crime, but it caught her attention. She sighed; the prostitute was only seventeen.

***

She forced the man through the revolving door, careful to keep a tight grip on his bound wrists. He fidgeted, and she gave him another shove. At the front desk, two patrolmen were waiting to relieve her of her prisoner to bring him into the holding cell. She collected her fee from the smiling woman behind the desk and obligingly took the proffered stack of paperwork. Pocketing the check, she hurried off through various doors and hallways before finally arriving at her desk. Located in the back corner as she was, she was often left alone.

She tossed the papers down on the desk and slumped in her chair. Musing, she grasped the I.D. tags around her neck and turned them over and over in her hands. They read:

Faye Hatchett

Bounty Hunter



Chapter One

“Empty. Always bloody empty.”

Faye Hatchett glared at her mailbox as if the box itself were responsible. Seated on the mailroom floor, she cross her arms over her chest and fumed. Her gaze swept over the wall in front of her. The fullest mailboxes were on the top, stuffed to the bursting point with assignments, paychecks, and invitations to awards ceremonies. The boxes grew more and more empty the further down they were. Faye’s was in a bottom corner, and always seemed to be stubbornly empty.

What have they got that I haven’t got? she thought, staring at the select few on the upper level. Oh yes, she reminded herself, they have the biggest bounties, the biggest checks, and the highest rankings in the whole bloody department.

Faye pulled herself to her feet with a sigh. Her department’s structure was rigid, although she had noticed that the higher your rank, the more leeway you were given. This had been gathered by observation; Faye knew she was low-level and unlikely to rise in the hierarchy. Her boss had told her she was the first woman to join the Bounty Hunters’ Department since its creation. She only got the job because he had pulled strings for her. Jack Holland was a dependable, hard-working man. He wasn’t the only one who supported her; most of the men she worked with did. He stood out for the simple reason that he had worked hard to make sure she kept a job in the headhunting business. Faye was notorious for getting into trouble and stepping outside the boundaries of protocol, which kept her on the lower levels.

With one last hateful glance at the upper-level boxes, Faye strode out of the mailroom. She lingered as the mail carrier passed her, but all he had were flyers. She was turning the corner at the end of the hallway when she heard her name.

“Hatchett!”

It was one of the highest-ranked hunters. He leaned over from his desk to shout at her through the door, an empty coffee mug in one hand.

“Yes, you. Come here please.”

Faye rolled her eyes but turned and walked over to the man’s office. She disliked him on principle; he was the sort of man who believed that women should not have careers, especially a man’s career. She loathed everything about him. His smug, pompous attitude coupled with overbearing mannerisms disgusted her. He went out of his way to annoy her, and it often took every ounce of self-control not to give him the satisfaction of getting to her. On top of all that, the man was, unfortunately, very nice to look at. She tried not to linger as she walked past his office but many times inadvertently let her eyes wander over his trim figure.

Often she had dreamed of putting him in his place, but she knew where hers was. The “people upstairs” had been putting pressure on Jack and trying to find an excuse to fire her. She wasn’t about to give them the chance over something so trivial.

“Yes? What do you want?” She tried not to scowl as she stood in the doorway, arms folded.

“I seem to have run out of coffee.”

When Faye didn’t move, he waved his mug in her direction.

“Do I need to repeat myself, Hatchett?”

Faye did not trust herself to speak. She turned on her heel and left in a rage. How dare he? This went beyond teasing. She could feel the blood pounding in her ears as she came to a stop. She wasn’t some coffee girl! Why couldn’t he just accept her as a bounty hunter? Why did he have to humiliate her at every opportunity, talk down at her like she didn’t belong there?

Faye was walking back to his office before she knew what she was doing.

***

When she arrived, two other men had just stepped in and the three of them were chatting. Faye stood in the doorway, trying desperately to keep her hand away from the gun on her hip. The man turned to look at her, a grin pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“Well! Have you come changed your mind?” He offered her the mug, and the other men smirked.

“I’m not your coffee girl,” Faye muttered through clenched teeth.

“Sorry, what was that?”

“I said: I’m not your coffee girl!”

“Oh, well, that’s a shame! I hear you’ll be out of a job soon, and I thought you might want a little extra cash on the side!”

She stopped, thrown. “What? Who told you that?”

He laughed and set the mug down on the desk. “Never mind who told me. I have connections, you know! Are you still turning me down?”

She felt her breathing slow; he was bluffing. She was sure of it. “Nothing,” she spat, “could ever make me accept petty cash from you! You can get your own coffee.”

The other men chuckled at Faye’s daring. She cross her arms as she thought again about the gun on her hip. The man raised an eyebrow, taken aback.

“Very well, no one’s forcing you to stay here. Although, I suspect that after much longer, we won’t be seeing you in this building at all!”

Faye couldn’t help it. Her hand went to the gun but before she could draw it, all three men had drawn theirs and trained them on her heart. She withdrew her hand slowly, but the men did not lower their weapons. Hunters outside the office, who noticed what was going on, scurried out of the line of fire.

One by one, the men lowered their weapons and clipped them back in their belts. The two other hunters promptly left, leaving only Faye and the man. Her stony expression mirrored his as his cold eyes bored into her, daring her to retaliate. He didn’t say a word, and Faye decided it would be in her best interests to remove herself from the office before the man got it in his head to report her.

Faye was about to turn and leave when a large hand gripped her neck and shoulder from behind.

A voice growled in her ear, “Office. Now.”

The hand whirled her about and steered her down the hallways past the curious, frightened eyes of her coworkers. She squirmed, but she was held in a vice-like grip. The hand propelled her forward through the glass door of an office at the end of the hall and pushed her down into a chair. Faye hunched her shoulders and grimaced as Jack snapped the blinds shut and turned to face her.

He looked tired. Faye couldn’t help noting the dark circles under his eyes, the worry lines etched across his face, or the resigned expression he wore. She couldn’t meet his gaze; she knew that she had caused most of his troubles. He always covered for her and kept her from being fired.

“Faye…” His voice was quiet, almost exasperated. Faye fidgeted in her chair. “What has been going on with you?” When she didn’t speak, he continued. “I’ve had a hard enough time as it is, trying to keep you in the department. Lately, it’s been one thing after another after another. There’s only so much I can do! If my superiors had their way, you’d be sitting behind the receptionist desk if you had a job at all!”

Fay shuddered as she thought of the cheery, blonde receptionist. Things were more serious than she thought. Jack was staring at her, and she realized that he was waiting for a reply.

“It’s not all my fault!” she began, but stopped. Jack was shaking his head, and she knew she sounded like a child. “Look, I know I screwed up, all right? A lot. And this isn’t any excuse, but you know things have been bad for me!”

Jack sighed and ran a hand over his shaved head. “The guys aren’t out to get you, you know. Most people on the same level are fine with you being here.”

“I know it isn’t everyone.” She paused and shook her head. “You know who I’m talking about! He’s always going out of his way to ridicule me.” Faye leapt to her feet as she spoke, her cheeks flushed. Jack placed his hands on her shoulders and pushed her back down into the chair.

“You need to take a vacation,” he said gently. He held up his hand as she protested and raised his voice over hers. “A vacation would do you good.”

“But that’s what they want me to do!” She stopped, her mouth falling open. “This is just another scheme to get rid of me, isn’t it? And you’re another piece in their game, aren’t you? You just-“

“Listen to yourself, Faye! I’m under heavy fire here, but don’t think for a minute that I haven’t done everything I can to keep you here!” Faye lowered her gaze and mumbled an apology, but Jack didn’t hear her. “Go home, Faye. You don’t have to take vacation time, but take the rest of the day. Go.”

Faye hurried out of the office and raced toward her cubicle. Jack was right; she just needed to go home for the day. She had just shut down her computer when another hunter appeared behind her. Faye jumped.

“Michael! What have I told you about sneaking up on me like that? Faye planted her hands on her hips. Michael was a bit of a nuisance, but at least he was kind to her.

“Sorry!” he said cheerfully.

“Look, I’d love to chat, Michael, but I need to be going.”

She brushed past him without a backward glance. It as still fairly early, and the cool air blew lightly across her face as she stepped outside. Faye was careful to keep her gun visible on her hip as she made her way back to her apartment. It tended to discourage would-be thieves, but she kept checking over her shoulder all the same. She thought longingly of her car; she had left it in its death throes at a scrap yard a few weeks back.

When Faye reached her apartment, she dug in her pockets for her keys and found them after a minute’s rummaging. She dropped the keys in a small bowl on a table as she went inside.

The entire apartment could be taken in at a glance. Faye pulled back the curtains to try to coax some light into the room. The single window sported a new lock, heavy and strong, that Faye had put in herself. A small bed lay shoved into a corner, jostling for space with a chest of drawers. The other side of the room housed a small refrigerator, microwave, and sink. A stack of dirty dishes balanced on the counter, in danger of toppling to the floor. Crossing the room, Faye turned on the water in the sink and tipped in the dishes. She shivered; the landlord had turned off her heating after she failed to pay the rent the previous month. Even through her boots, she could feel the icy cold of the floor. The threadbare rug did nothing to cushion the unforgiving concrete.

She kept her jacket on as she switched on her bounty scanner and started washing the dishes. She had bought the scanner her first day of work, that first day when she had had so many dreams, so many wild fantasies of what it was going to be like, being a bounty hunter. She had never been assigned one of the expensive bounties from the scanner, but she listened all the same.

As Faye scrubbed at a stubborn spot on a plate, the broadcaster announced a newly discovered bounty. He launched into a description of the bounty’s crimes, and as he did so, Faye turned to stare at the scanner. The list continued on for so long that she though it must be a joke. When it finally ended, the broadcaster mentioned the price on the bounty’s head.

Faye dropped the plate.

In her entire career, she had never heard of a bounty so expensive. Bitter disappointment rose in her throat and choked her as she realized she wouldn’t even be close to the assignment. This one was going straight to the top. She turned off the scanner in annoyance and, feeling confined, left the apartment.

The sun had just started to set, and the people of the city were one their way home. Faye decided to walk by the department, reasoning that her chances of being mugged were slightly lower in that part of town. As the large building came into sight, she couldn’t help feeling sorry for herself, stuck in the low ranks. She glanced inside as she passed the front door, and she caught a glimpse of the hunter who had harassed her. She hurried past, hoping he hadn’t seen her. She chanced a look back after a block, but he was gone.

She continued on, letting herself tune out as thoughts raced through her head. What was she going to do about him? He drove her absolutely insane, but there wasn’t really anything realistic that she could do. Harassment was not a crime, as far as the department was concerned, and he hadn’t done anything to interfere with her bounties. Her mind wandered as she walked, drifting to the bounty she had heard about on her scanner. She had never known what it was like to be dealing with expensive, sophisticated bounties. The criminals she brought in were lowlifes, petty crooks.

Suddenly, she stopped, feeling eyes on her back. She turned her head slightly and glanced over her shoulder. A tall man rested against a light post a few yards back, but she couldn’t remember passing him. She set off again and then stopped, looking back. He had moved with her, carefully trying to look as though he was just minding his own business.

Faye could feel her pulse quicken as the thoughts came to an abrupt halt. She forced herself to slow down, quickly scanning the street in front of her. Suddenly, she saw a small alleyway and, without thinking, slipped inside.

She saw his shadow as he moved closer. Her heart was beating so loudly she was sure he could hear it.

He turned the corner.

Her arm shot out before she could process what was happening. The punch caught him just below the eye, and he staggered. Faye was frozen; the first punch had been on instinct, but her mind refused to function as the man turned and lunged for her. He pinned her to the wall and clumsily sifted through her pockets, horribly disappointed when all he found was spare change.

Faye struggled but could not break free from the man’s iron grip. He yelled in frustration and threw her to the ground. She fell in a heap in front of him, striking her head off of the grimy concrete. He rushed from the alley, unwilling to be caught at such a scene, inadvertently stomping on Faye’s outstretched wrist as he ran. She screamed and jerked her arm toward her on a reflex but found herself unable to move it.

Faye wasn’t sure how long she lay there in the alley; it could have been half an hour, it could have been a few minutes. When she pulled herself to her feet, the sun was sending its final rays across the sky. She held her damaged arm against her chest and raised a hand to her head. Luckily, there were no cuts, and she didn’t think she had a concussion.

She hurried home as quickly as she could, taking a different route. She knew she should at least go to Jack, maybe even the police, but she didn’t want to think about anything. All she wanted was to go home and sleep away the pain.

When she reached her front door, she pushed her keys angrily at the lock but kept missing and ended up dropping them. As she bent to pick them up, she suddenly realized the difficulties this was going to cause her. Her left arm lay cradled against her, horribly bruised and twisted. Faye was left-handed.

She finally unlocked the door and stumbled inside. She hunted about until she found a bandage and a ruler and clumsily tried to splint her arm. It was difficult with her right hand, but she managed to create a weak support that would hold her wrist in place.

Faye sank onto the bed and lay back, her eyelids heavy as they slowly closed. Her thoughts drifted as she fell into a deep sleep, bringing her trouble at work back into her consciousness. The image of the man swam in front of her and she realized sleepily that she did not know his name. She had never bothered to read the sign outside his office. She wondered if she had ever heard it before and was just forgetting, but nothing came to her.

The thoughts faded as she slipped into a dreamless sleep.

***

The glowing numbers on the clock flashed 3:00 as Faye sat up with a jolt, clenching her teeth to keep from crying out. She grabbed her arm with her right hand and immediately let go as pain shot through her wrist. She half climbed, half fell out of bed and staggered across the room to the sink. Without bothering to remove the weak, improvised splint, she turned on the icy water and held her arm under its numbing flow.

Faye clutched the countertop with her right hand for support as the feeling slowly faded from her wrist. Sweat beaded on her brow as she shut off the water and shuffled back to the bed, panting. She needed to see a doctor and have it properly taken care of, but she didn’t have any sort of insurance and knew she couldn’t afford the trip to the hospital. Not to mention she’d be missing work, and she barely made enough when she was working overtime.

She groaned as she lay back on the bed and thought about work, the difficulties she would have to cope with the following day. Faye was too tired to think about it any longer. She slept fitfully, plagued by puzzling dreams that she couldn’t remember in the morning.




Chapter Two

Faye woke early the following morning, doing her best to ignore the throbbing pain in her left arm. Awkwardly, she made a cup of coffee and rushed out the door. An icy winter breeze whipped her dark hair across her face as she stepped outside. Her breath caught in her throat as the cold began to sink through the thin layers of her clothing; she moved quickly to keep herself warm.

She tried to hold her arm still underneath her coat as she made her way through the early morning throng of people on their way to work. Taking care to avoid being bumped by the crowd, Faye wove her way through the labyrinthine setup of the city. The bounty hunters’ headquarters was located very close to the center, a hive of activity that served as a hub center for hunters moving throughout the city.

When she reached the department, Faye slipped through the doors as a pair of hunters left, scurrying through just before they closed. Her first stop was the mailroom, where, to her delight, an assignment was waiting for her. She brought the envelope back to her desk, where she opened it with difficulty, grateful that no one could see her pitiful struggles over the walls of her cubicle.

Unfolded and spread out before her, the assignment was commonplace, as per usual, and Faye scanned it with little interest. The bounty was wanted for multiple robberies, but they were only small-scale holdups in liquor stores.

She scanned the bounty’s description. The man was a giant; at six-foot-seven and almost three hundred pounds, he easily dwarfed Faye. She raised an eyebrow at the bounty offered. In her opinion, sending a slim woman after a monster like that and not even paying well for it was ridiculous, but there wasn’t anything to be done about it.

Grabbing a pen, she scribbled down the address of the latest crime scene on a piece of scrap paper and shoved it into the pocket of her coat. The writing was barely legible, and it took her a little extra time with her right hand, but she managed. Faye clipped her handcuffs onto her belt, switched on her radio, and double-checked that her gun was safely secured in its holster on her hip. She slipped an extra round into her pocket as a force of habit, hoping as always that she would never need it. She spotted Jack as she headed toward the front door and did her best to avoid him, but he caught sight of her and intercepted her before she could make it.

“Where are you off to? I didn’t see you come in.”

She shrugged lopsidedly and tried to scoot past him. “Got here early; I had some paperwork to take care of. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a job lined up. I really should be going.”

She rushed away before he could ask her why only one arm was in the sleeve of her jacket.

***

The liquor store was relatively easy to find. A small crowd had gathered and was just beginning to dissipate as she arrived, flashing her badge at the two police officers standing guard at the door.

The entire front window had been smashed in, and the door was hanging precariously in a dented doorframe. Faye stepped inside gingerly, broken glass crunching under her boots. She made her way over to the lead detective, who was in deep conversation with the distressed storeowner. Faye was momentarily distracted by flashes from the opposite side of the store. She raised an eyebrow. Forensics? A man in a dark uniform was snapping pictures and trying to look like he knew what he was doing. Faye reasoned that the only reason he was there was because he was a rookie. He was learning on an unimportant crime scene to prepare him for the “big time”.

She turned back as the storeowner grew almost hysterical.

“Listen to me, you-you-you … detective! My store is in ruins! And what are you doing? Standing here talking to me instead of arresting the man who did this?”

The detective raised his hands in front of him, trying to calm the man down. “Sir, the only way we can arrest this man is if we find out who he is, all right? Now, I’m going to ask you again. Do you have any video surveillance?”

“Well…I…yes. Yes, right over there.”

“Just the one camera?”

“Is there a problem with just one camera, detective?” he squawked, indignant.

“No, no not at all. May I see the tape, please?”

“There isn’t one.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said there isn’t one! That camera doesn’t record. I watch a screen when I’m in the back, just to keep an eye on things.”

The detective massaged the bridge of his nose and sighed. Faye turned away, smirking. As she turned around, the man from forensics appeared in front of her, folding and unfolding his hands nervously. She was surprised; he looked like he wasn’t even twenty years old.

“S-sorry for bothering you, but the detective seems to be … busy. It’s just, I found something over here that you might want to look at.”

Faye nodded and followed him over to where he had been taking photos. “So, what am I looking at?”

He jumped. “Oh, of course. It’s uh, it’s right here. See this? Bullet casings. They’re very unique. I have a feeling that if we run them through the system, we’ll get a hit and you’ll have your man.”

“Nice work, kid,” Faye said, patting him on the shoulder. A routine sweep of the crime scene would have picked up the casings in an instant, but as it was his first scene, she gave him credit. “Would you take these back as soon as possible and fax me whatever hits you get?”

He nodded, and Faye strode off, leaving the detective to deal with the storeowner, who was now ranting and raving about apparent corruption in the police department and a full-fledged conspiracy.

***

The stench of alcohol and disease hung in the air as Faye picked her way down a narrow street littered with empty cans and unconscious drunks. She rechecked the address she had written as she stood outside the apartment building. Forensics had sent over a single suspect, a repeat offender using the same weapon. Pulling a face at the odor, she shoved open the front door and stepped inside, unclipping her gun and raising it to eye level.

The interior of the building was in even worse repair than the decaying exterior. The faded wallpaper was peeling off in strips, yellowed with age. Mold spots bloomed on the crinkled paper, no doubt caused by leaks in the ceiling and walls. Faye moved quickly up to the second floor and down the hallway. She checked the address again. At apartment 146, she banged on the door.

When there was no reply, she shouted, “I’m with the DBH; I have a warrant for your arrest. Open up!”

There was no answer, but Faye heard movement on the other side of the door. She sighed and rolled her eyes. Why did they always have to make it so difficult? She repeated her previous call, emphasizing the point that she did indeed have a warrant for arrest before kicking in the door.

The old, rotting wood splintered and gave under her boots. Faye stepped into the apartment, right hand clasped firmly around the handle of her gun, left hand held protectively at her chest. She heard him before she saw him, crashing about in the next room. Quickly, she sidestepped around the corner and swept the gun in an arc before her. The man was on the far side of the room, pushing open a window in an attempt to get away by means of the fire escape. When he saw her, he turned and reached for the gun on the windowsill next to him.

Faye let loose a shot as the man picked up the gun, but she missed; the bullet thudded into the window frame off to the side. She cursed as the man returned fire. She slipped out of the room and took shelter behind the wall. When she looked back, the man was gone.

A deep sigh escaped her lips. Returning the gun to its holster, she crossed the room to examine the window frame and sill. The bullet was buried deep, but other than that, no sign of the struggle was apparent. She paused, wondering idly how a man of that size could possibly fit through a window so small, then turned and left the apartment.

Normally, she would have been out the window and chasing the man in a heartbeat, but she knew that, with her damaged arm, she would probably end up falling two stories as well as losing the bounty. Dejected, she headed down the stairs and back outside. She was already behind on the rent; she had needed this job. When she returned to the department, she would have to fill out a report documenting the bounty’s escape. The case would either be given back to her as a work in progress or kicked up to a higher level. The bounty would obviously be increased as well, reasoning that the man was more difficult than previously assumed.

Faye stormed out of the apartment building, cursing the would-be thief who had stepped on her arm. The trip back to the department was uneventful, nothing out of the ordinary. With her gun hidden underneath her coat and her badge out of sight, Faye felt distinctly normal. She stopped on a street corner, looking at the people moving around her, going about their business. She realized that she didn’t want to be one of them, that her status as a bounty hunter had made her feel different. If that were taken away from her, would she be just another face in the crowd?

She pushed the thoughts away, chiding herself. Falling into her usual routine of ignoring the people around her and weaving her way through them, she reached the department within minutes.

The building was crowded with people; it looked like most of the hunters had congregated there. Faye frowned, puzzled. Did no one have jobs to do? Something must be going on.

She pushed her way inside and shouldered her way through to Jack’s office. He was inside, alone, deep in conversation with someone on the phone. Faye knocked on his door, and he waved her away. She opened it and stepped inside anyway. He rolled his eyes and turned around, one hand holding the phone to his ear, the other atop his shaved crown. Faye sighed as she slumped in one of Jack’s chairs, idly twirling a dark strand of hair between her fingers and vaguely wondering how much longer it would have to grow before she could tie it back out of her way.

Jack slammed the phone down and rested his hands on his desk. He sighed and straightened up, planting his fists on his hips. Faye raised a quizzical eyebrow as he turned and faced her.

“What’s up, Jack? Why is the department swarming with hunters? They can’t possibly be looking for work. We’ve no shortage of work these days.”

“They aren’t here for work, Faye. We have … an issue, at the moment. Have you been listening to your scanner recently, by any chance?” She nodded, curious. “Well,” he continued, “then you may have heard about a bounty unidentified as of right now.”

“I heard about him!” She remembered the expensive bounty the scanner had reported. “What’s he got to do with anything?”

“I’ve had my top ranks working on it for weeks now. Mark and Jaiden have been putting in all of their time to nab this guy, but it’s slow going; he’s smart, really smart.”

Faye blinked. That was it! Jaiden. She knew she’d heard it before. He was the hunter who delighted in making her miserable. She didn’t feel bad at all that they hadn’t caught the bounty.

“So…what does this have to do with everyone else?”

“We’re going to need everyone on this guy.”

“Everyone?” Faye was incredulous. Their department may be smaller than the various police departments, but a large number of people made up their task force.

“Not everyone actively. My superiors have instructed me to send out information to every hunter we employ so that they can be on the lookout for anything that Mark and Jaiden would find useful. Just keep an eye out, all right?”

Faye nodded and rose to her feet, completely forgetting about her arm. Jack caught sight of the clumsy splint.

“What in the hell is that?”

“What? Oh…em…it’s nothing. Really, Jack. Don’t worry about it.”

“All right…come on, out of my office. I have a lot to do.”

She rolled her eyes and left, back to the noise and confusion of the main floor. Their current assignments temporarily on hold, hunters stood about discussing the new bounty. Faye didn’t catch sight of Jaiden as she forced her way through to her desk. An assignment envelope was waiting for her on top of her keyboard, along with forms for the previous assignment. She shoved the forms to one side; they could wait.

Eagerly, Faye tore open the envelope and pulled out the stack of papers within. The information on the bounty was extensive, but as far as she could tell, largely useless. She saw why they were having such a problem with him. The man’s multiple crimes were documented thoroughly, but none of the information was going to help them capture him. Faye picked up the set of forms and scanned them before realizing that writing everything out was going to take her all day. Her handwriting was barely legible when she used her left hand. With her right, unless she spent a lot of time on it, it looked like a foreign language.

Suddenly, Michael appeared over the wall of her cubicle, making her jump. She sighed and shot him a glare.

“Michael! Please, can you stop sneaking up on me?”

“Sorry! Hey, Faye, did you hear about that new bounty?”

“Yes, Michael, everyone has. They’re having trouble catching him.”

“Are they? He must be clever, this guy.”

“Apparently so.”

Michael paused to think for a second. “Well, I guess I’ll be off then.”

“Do you have a job right now?”

“No.”

“Then-“

“Didn’t you hear? They’ve given us all the day off!”

“What? How does-“

“I think Jack said something about background checks. Bye Faye!” He grabbed his bag and left, smiling at anyone who passed. Faye shook her head. Background checks? It was probably protocol, she mused; rule out anyone in the department early on. Still…she had never known the department to run full background checks before. There was a routine sweep during the application process, but never afterwards. She shrugged and gathered up the papers on her desk, resigning herself to ignorance.

As she pushed open the front doors and the weak winter sunlight shone on her face, she smiled; she could use a day off.

***

It was the third time she had woken up that night, drenched in sweat. Faye eventually gave up on sleep altogether. Her arm was throbbing painfully, and had since swelled to an alarming size. She had spent most of her day filling out the forms on the escaped bounty at an agonizingly slow pace. Her right arm felt cramped, and the left felt like it was on fire.

She leaned over the sink, shaking. She wanted to rewrap the arm, more tightly this time, but undoing the bandage would allow it to swell further and cause her more pain. She fumbled through her cabinets until she found a few painkillers and downed the lot. She choked as she swallowed the pills dry, and the sweat beaded on her forehead again. She slid down the counter and sat on the floor, her arm hanging limply by her side.

Her head rolled to one side as she turned to look at the clock. The numbers’ sickly green glow projected 2:24. She let her head roll back and rest against the counter behind her, her eyelids heavy but unable to close.

***

Jack picked up his phone and dialed Faye’s number, hoping she would show up for work sometime soon. It rang a few times before clicking and going to her voicemail. He listened to her voice for a few seconds before sighing and hanging up. Just then, he glanced up and saw her come in through the front doors. He stood up and peered at her through the blinds before hurrying out of his office.

“Jesus, Faye! What happened to you?”

She blinked blearily at him and yawned. She mumbled something that he didn’t catch and turned to the receptionist behind the front counter. The receptionist took the stack of papers that Faye tossed on the counter and grimaced.

The pronounced dark circles under Faye’s eyes contrasted sharply with her too-pale skin, and her eyes were only half-open. Jack noticed that a makeshift sling now hung around her neck and shoulder, supporting her left arm.

“You were awake all night, weren’t you?”

She nodded sleepily and rubbed her hand across her face. Jack sighed and went back to his office. He grabbed his coat before returning. Faye muttered incoherently as he grabbed her by the shoulders and steered her out the door, telling the receptionist to take his calls as he went. She nodded, still staring wide-eyed at Faye.

Opening the passenger door of his car, Jack eased Faye into the seat and ran around to the driver’s seat. She sat up and looked around, puzzled by her surroundings.

“I’m taking you to the hospital, Faye,” Jack said matter-of-factly. “That arm needs to be looked at. Today.” She turned to protest, but he silenced her with a look. “If I don’t take you to get it fixed, then I’ll have to fire you because you can’t do your job.” She opened her mouth to reply but snapped it shut. Jack wouldn’t look at her; he knew that if he did, he would have to tell her the real reason.

At the hospital, a nurse shooed Jack into a plastic chair and pulled Faye into an exam room. An hour later, she was back out in the waiting room, her arm encased in a thick, white cast and held in a proper sling. She looked much more aware of her surroundings, and Jack suspected the doctors had given her something.

“That was fast,” she said by way of greeting. Jack shrugged. He did not mention that he had shown the nurse his badge and insisted that Faye’s arm be taken care of as quickly as possible. A doctor wandered over and handed Faye a bottle of pills.

“Now, those are for the pain. Only one every six hours.” He turned to Jack. “The x-rays showed a double break and a splintered fracture. She’ll need to take a few weeks off of work to recuperate.”

Jack nodded and sighed. Faye was tapping her cast absentmindedly, oblivious to their conversation. The doctor noticed her behavior and leaned in, whispering.

“We uh … we gave her some … medication. She may be out of it for the next few hours.” Jack raised an eyebrow but said nothing. The doctor turned and left, leaving Jack to steer Faye back out to the car.

“You’re going to have to take some time off, Faye.” He pulled up to a red light and turned to look at her. She was staring out the window.

“How long?”

“We’ll say two weeks and then go from there. I’ll drive you home.” Faye didn’t say another word for the rest of the drive. When they pulled up in front of her apartment, she got out of the car, thanked Jack, and disappeared inside. He waved as her front door closed, then sighed and headed back to work.