Axel kept walking down the sidewalk as fast as his legs could take him, his feet squelching through puddles in the cracked and worn concrete. Though the rain had stopped, a clammy moistness clung to the air, making Axel feel sodden. A few weak patches of sunlight showed here and there through the clouds, but did little to dispel the dismal, oppressive dark of the overcast sky.
At least there wasn't anybody around, a fact that Axel was more than glad of. What the hell am I going to do?! he thought desperately. It's not like I can go to the cops to try and explain... Oh jesus... He felt as if his chest was collapsing in, helplessness starting to overwhelm him. Come on... come on, think...
Grinding his teeth, deep in his thoughts, Axel didn't hear the soft footsteps coming up behind him. Then there was a heavy crack on the back of his head, and everything went white with agony.
When the fog cleared, he was lying face down on the concrete, his cheek pressed into the cold, damp ground. The back of his head felt on fire, and something wet was trickling down the back of his neck. Groaning, Axel started to slowly push himself onto his hands and knees, his stunned brain trying to process what was happening. A pair of strong hands grabbed him around the shoulders, and he felt himself being pulled up, his own arms held back.
As Axel started struggling, trying to wrench from the grip of the person behind him, another person stepped in front of him before him into his line of sight. Beneath his short dark hair, the man's eyes were like cold stone. He leaned in close, his face inches from Axel's own. "You thought you could just get away with it?" he hissed.
Axel blinked. "I di-"
The man stepped back, swinging his arm, and Axel just had time to register the small revolver clenched in his hand before the handle smashed into his right temple. Gasping, Axel was thrown to the side, the man holding him almost losing his grip.
Holding the rat tighter, the burly man swore under his breath. "We can't do this here, Jim. Someone could call the cops."
The dark haired man with the revolver shook his head angrily, looking around the deserted street. "Nobody's gonna call the cops. Especially not for a piece of shit like this." He paused. Maybe it was better to make sure. "Alright, fine. Bring him there." He pointed to a dark alley across the road and started to walk over.
Shrugging, the burly man started to drag the dazed rat across. Inside, he couldn't help feeling a pang of regret. Sure, this was personal for Jim, but... 500, 000 credits was a lot of money...