A figure slipped quietly out of a building under the cover of night. From his clumsy steps, it looked more like a panicked escape, because just as he stepped off the stairs, he tripped and went sprawling. He scrambled up off the ground in a hurry, dove into the bushes at the side without even having time to groan in pain.
Maybe the sound of his fall startled the people inside the building. The lights on the first floor snapped on, and a few men rushed out, all with guns in their hands, looking fierce as hell.
"Fuck, he ran!" one of them cursed, and the two men split up and started searching.
Only after they'd run off did the man hiding in the dark slip out. He half crouched and looked up toward the upper floors; only the first floor was lit, the second and third were as pitch‑black as the night itself. After pausing for a moment, the shadow bolted toward the main road as if some beast was tearing after him, running forward without looking back.
