THE STREET LIGHTS of downtown Johannesburg cast long shadows through the dirty front windows of
an abandoned grocery store. Sammy stayed in the shadows as he darted from one hiding place to another.
The air around him felt cool, but sweat rolled down his forehead to the end of his stubby brown nose. He
crouched behind the customer service desk at the front of the store and listened for signs of someone
approaching.
As he listened, he blew the perspiration off the end of his nose with a puff. It was quiet enough to hear
the tiny splash as it hit the floor. Not far away, where the shopping carts stood, someone’s shoe scuffed the
floor. Sammy jerked his head in that direction, banged his cheek on the corner of the desk, and bit his tongue.
The taste of blood reminded him how long it had been since his last meal.
I need to go some place they won’t think of, he decided. He thought of the stock room behind him. He paused
to listen again, fingering the weapon stowed in his pocket. An ambulance siren wailed as it passed the store.
Sammy took advantage of the moment and eased open the stock room door just enough to worm his long
body through the crack.
The room became almost pitch black when the door closed. Sammy walked with his hands outstretched,
waiting to bump into the ladder he already knew was attached to the back wall. When he reached the ladder,
he smiled.
No way they’ll look for me up here, he thought as he climbed.