The Shadow of Winter

Chapter 18

        Streetlights passed overhead, shadows flickered between each one. A yellow taxi drove through, its pace slow and steady as the tires rolled over patches of ice blended with the dark road. The night was clear and crisp, the moon hanging like an eye, wide-open and watching. Not a single person could be seen. It was far too cold—the glowing blue letters in the corner of the taxi's rear view mirror displayed a temperature far below freezing. Winter had reached its height.

        The time approached midnight. Agent Shadow sat in the backseat of the taxi, staring out the window but not seeing anything. Turmoil swelled inside him. The taxi was on its way to the meeting spot Mr. Wolf had told him to be at—the mobster's own home. (Name) waited for him there, scared and surrounded by the criminals that had murdered her entire family. Baring his teeth in guilt, the black and red-striped hedgehog pressed his forehead against the glass, his chest tightened with tension. He hoped it wasn't too late. He didn't know if the girl was alive or not, he had to take the word of a killer that she remained unharmed.

        Fog built up on the glass, obscuring his view, and Shadow turned away to glare at the taxi driver. The man drove so slowly, couldn't he see the agent was in a hurry? Shadow angrily snorted air out of his nose. "Can't you drive faster?" he said.

        A tame gaze met the hedgehog's in the rear view mirror. "Sorry, sir, but the roads are too icy. I'll get you to your destination on time, it's only 11:30."

        Only 11:30. Shadow had to be at the Lupo's house by midnight.

        He settled back into his seat with nothing else to say. A gloved hand absently touched his left wrist, which was missing his communicator. Shadow had left his cellphone and wrist communicator in a trashcan outside the hospital after he had located the coordinates of Mr. Wolf's home from the man's landline phone. He hadn't wanted to take chances bringing the technology with him after he was warned against it. Shadow hadn't called anyone either, and so the G.U.N. agent was working entirely alone.

        The vehicle's tires slid as the driver applied the brakes, preparing to make a turn into a private driveway. "You can stop right here," spoke Shadow in a brisk voice. "I will walk the rest of the way." If he was to be meeting with mobsters, he didn't need the taxi driver getting close to the danger. His sight glazed over the time, displaying 11:49 p.m.

        "If you say so, mister," said the driver. He set the car into park, getting paid before his customer exited. Then he drove off without so much as a farewell.

        Shadow watched the taxi leave, waiting until it was completely out of view. He turned to the private driveway and searched with his eyes for anything suspicious hidden among the trees. Determining there to be nothing that posed a danger just yet, the agent strode forward into the forested lane with soft footsteps. Snow berms neatly lined the way, the path freshly plowed as if he had been expected. The air stood silent, still.

        While he walked, those thoughts of doubt came entering Shadow's mind. What was he doing, going here alone? He would have a better chance at saving the orphaned victim and putting away her capturers if he had backup. He didn't doubt for a second that he'd defeat the bad guys—he'd leave them sprawled on the floor with broken limbs and bloodied faces reflecting utter terror at the sight of the enraged bioengineered hedgehog—but the fact that a hostage was involved meant innocent lives were also at stake. Rouge would have known how to deter the action from (Name). Shadow wished he had contacted her.

        The hedgehog approached an iron gate with a cursive L woven in the center of the bars. L for Lupo, decided Shadow. He looked past it, seeing a large estate overlaid by fresh snow with the remainder of the driveway cleared away. It was beautiful, in an eerie sort of way. The full moon rose above the mansion, placed at the top peak of the Victorian-style roof, its reflection shining in each of the darkened windows on the top floor. Even in the night, the home cast a shadow, ominous and leering down at arrivals. Lights glowed out from the first floor, a signal that someone was home.