Drake sprinted down the alleyway, smashing himself against the stonewall, and shot a nervous look behind. No one – just darkness and the echoes of dripping water. Sucking air still, he’s not as young as he use to be, his lungs burned like coals. His nostril flared the stench of urine and vomit coated the air. Think now and calm yourself, he told himself. But that was easier thought than done. Someone was following him, he was certain, ever since leaving Shannigan’s pub. But who? Any why? He eased along the brickwall until he reached a nook, slipping inside. The garbage and discarded delivery boxes where scattered around the alley. He gathered his senses, hiding under the cover of the moonless night, he focused his attention on intersection.