suspected that one person watching him would not be very unusual, but five had to mean trouble. If they were coming after him he couldn’t expect any help. With the advent of floaters there was very little surface traffic at night anymore, and this late there was none. The moon had not risen high, so the only light came from the lamps scattered along the sidewalk. He sensed that other than those five there was no one else close by, and the five were completing their plan to smoothly surround him. It surprised him that anyone would even attempt to commit a crime with all the surveillance cameras, but he suspected that it would be over and done before anyone monitoring the cameras could react. His thought about running away from the building he had been walking next to was now unrealistic, and he knew that if he did the cameras would see him. If he didn’t run and he was stopped by these five following him, then the cameras would see him. He was going to be seen; there was no avoiding it, and he decided that he would rather be in a lighted area and have the building at his back than be totally surrounded on all sides in the dark. So he stopped, sat down, placed his back against the crystal glass of the building behind him, and lowered his head so the cameras couldn’t see his face. The shadows disappeared, so he knew the camera was now recording him. That’s when he saw them approaching.
They were moving as a unit and he could see that they had done this sort of thing before. One of them went to the left and one went to the right about ten feet on either side of him. They pulled out guns and held them against their legs so they wouldn’t be easily seen by the camera; then they faced away from him. The other three moved towards him from the front, and they were holding knives. Fear coursed through his body and he could feel his heart rate go up. He knew that the cameras recording this would take another nine seconds before he was in a blank space in their coverage. He had to wait until that moment to try and escape. “I can’t let them record my face,” he thought.
“What do you want?” Tag asked. “I’m not carrying any credits or anything else of value you would want.” He kept his head down, looking at the pavement in front of him. He watched them move closer and spread out to block any escape.
“I hope you don’t mind if we determine that for ourselves,” the man to the left said. “Your clothes look pretty good to me.” He was tall and moved smoothly for his size. The two men on each side of the center man moved to his left and right, holding their knives out. They wore clothes that were old, and their shoes had worn spots on them. One had a pockmarked face that also bore a scar that ran the length of his left cheek. His right hand had scars and looked like it had been burned.
“You can make this easy on yourself or we can do it the hard way,” the one on his left said.
Tag noticed that they all had on hoods but didn’t wear anything to hide their faces from him. The hoods would hide their faces from the camera but not from him.
“I think it’s going to be the hard way even if I wanted it easier,” Tag said to the man on the left. “You’re letting me see your faces, so I think there’s no way you’re going to let me walk away from here. Is there anything I can do to leave safely?” Tag asked while looking at the ground, because he still had four seconds until the camera’s blind spot returned.
The man said, “We have a smart one here, boys. I guess if you let us cut out your eyes so you couldn’t identify us later, we might consider it.” The man cocked his head to the side and then said, “But I don’t think you’ll just stand there and let us do that, would you?” He then looked at the one on his left and nodded.
At that moment Tag saw he was back in the blind spot of the camera again, just as the man on his left lunged forward to cut his throat.
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