-------Update #2------- (based on inspiration from 6 backers): http://kck.st/1mbLRYa
West panicked. While his mind envisioned a graceful escape into a nearby alley, his boots stumbled over a crack in the walk and spilt him into the well-lit street. “Curses.” He gripped his ankle. The gunned engine of the Model A erased the pain. “To flight!”
He skittered across the frost-slickened surface of the street as the silhouettes of dual Tommy Guns emerged from the auto. West barked in fright and doubled his efforts to sprint clear of the bristling Model A, manned no doubt by the Irish mobsters he’d accidentally fingered in a bootlegging network three days prior.
As West reached the opposite walkway, rapid pops echoed between the downtown buildings. The spark of ricochets lit the path before him. Following the path straight through a shopfront window, West crashed down in a glittering storm of glass and slid into a rack of clothes.
Before West could stand, an arm reached down to grasp him. He squeaked as the arm plucked him from the floor like a feather from a chicken. In the dim lighting, his eyes came to focus on a genteel older gentlemen with ridiculously large mutton chops. “Um, sorry for the mess…”