Dark Moonlighting by Scott Haworth Page A

and read the next
day, but found that I was too distracted. Though I was comfortable
with my routine and had fed the week before, I was particularly
excited about my latest hunting target. I forced myself to stay
home until five that evening. It was still light out when I left,
but it would be dark by the time I reached Chicago. I found it
quite difficult to keep my foot from slamming onto the gas pedal
during the drive.
    I found the address without difficulty thanks
to the map I had printed off of the internet. I made a mental note
to destroy the paper later as it would be a pretty damning piece of
evidence if it were ever to be discovered. Though it probably was
not necessary, I drove past the address and parked three blocks
away just to be on the safe side. I never took anything for granted
when I hunted. Centuries of experience had taught me the lesson of
being paranoid. The alley I parked in was empty of foot traffic
like the rest of the neighborhood. I exited my car wearing all
black clothing and kept to the shadows as I made my way back to the
address.
    The location I was after had probably been a
nice office building thirty years earlier. It had fallen into
disrepair like all the others on the block. The address was printed
in rusty letters near the front door of the small building. No
company name was listed, and it easily could have been mistaken as
an abandoned building. I knew better though. After a quick look
both ways down the street, I grabbed the door handle and was
delighted to find it unlocked.
    The interior of the building was a single
small room, but it looked larger because of all the empty space.
There were ten computers near the front of the room that looked
like they had seen better days. Their owner had not bothered to put
them on tables. The computers sat on the floor amidst a tangled
mess of power cords and network cables. There was only one other
person in the room besides me. A man sitting cross-legged in front
of one of the computers turned at the sound of the rusty door
opening. He was white and in his mid-thirties. His clothing was
stained with grease and grime. I could see the muscle tone beneath
his T-shirt and tell that he took pride in keeping in good shape.
It was too bad that he had wasted so much time exercising. All the
sit-ups in the world would not save him now.
    “Ocupado,” the man shouted at me irritably.
“No bums.”
    “No,” I said to him flatly.
    “No?” the man questioned. “No, what?”
    “To answer all your questions,” I clarified
as my heart pounded in my chest. “Do I want cheap prescription
medication? No. Do I want to know the trick to make women more
attracted to me? No. Do I want a larger penis? Well yes, but I
don’t think you are capable of providing that service.”
    The man stood up slowly without taking his
eyes off of me. He pointed the palms of his hands towards me and
started to back farther into the room. His combative tone changed
instantly when he realized that I was not a homeless man looking
for a place to squat.
    “Listen buddy, you’ve got the wrong man,” the
man started nervously. “I’m just the tech support guy. They were
having trouble with their internet connection, so they called me
in. Your beef is with the boss of this place.”
    “You are the boss of this place, Trevor,” I
said while I slowly walked towards him.
    “How do you know my name?” he asked in a near
panic.
    “I know lots about you. The internet can be a
powerful tool, although I suppose I don’t have to tell you that. I
know your name, I know your address, I even found out that you
usually work late on Saturdays. I would have thought you could
automate the process more. It’s nice to see someone with your work
ethic nowadays. I have three different jobs, and I can tell you
that none of my coworkers—”
    “I’ll remove you from the mailing list,”
Trevor shouted in desperation. “Just tell me your e-mail and you’ll
never be bothered by me again. I