The alleyway was completely deserted. The streetlights flickered, making numerous shadows across the pavement. Dogs barked at a distant place. The entire block felt soulless. None of the flats or shops had their lights on.

She tightened her blue woollen jacket around her middle against the cold, biting wind. Her red hair flew wildly. She ran a hand through it and increased her speed.

She walked briskly, her ice-blue eyes darting everywhere, capturing details. The bitter wind prickled her eyes. She tsked.   

Suddenly, she heard faint footsteps behind her. Two people. She took a deep breath and heightened her senses.

The noise was steadfast, their steps methodical. They have done this before. She could now hear the noise getting nearer. They are ready.

She heard a faint metallic click, the sound echoing in the otherwise silent night. Something’s opened. A switchblade, perhaps.

She loosened her grip on the jacket, but kept her hands in front of her. Should have taken the highway. She had never ignored her instincts before.

The duo was now right behind her, judging by the pronounced scrapes on the concrete.

She felt a hand land on her right arm and she pivoted reflexively. She threw her left elbow sideways, catching a man in the jaw. She held onto his collar and kneed him.

She side-stepped and caught the other man in his left kneecap. She heard a satisfying crunch as he went halfway down. She whirled on her left heel and kicked him in the head.

She surveyed the scene before her. Two men lay on the cold concrete. They had similar features – black curly hair, shiny denim clothes, new sneakers and socks. That’s odd. 

One of the two had a hand glued to his private parts. The other was inert, with his face down. He had a golden watch on his hand, bigger than his wrist. Not his.

A small metallic pen knife lay near him. Not exactly a killing weapon. But that depends on who’s using it.

She caught a faint groan from the first one. She went to him, her feet soft on the road. She crouched and took a fistful of his hair. He had a faint scar on his left eyebrow.

“Who sent you?” she asked.
 The man glared at her. “You bitch!”
“Answer me. Who’s your boss?” she pulled at the hair, bending his head backwards.
“Jesus! I got no clue what you’re talking about, girl! Just wanted some cash. No big deal.”

She searched his face for any telltale signs that he was lying.

“Are you sure? Did anybody pay you to set me up?” She pressed the thumb of her other hand on his windpipe and applied some pressure.
“Bitch, what you doing?” The man croaked. “I ain’t got no problem with you. Swear on my mum’s grave!”

She pulled her thumb back. The confused desperation in his voice wasn’t a ruse. “Is your mother really dead?”
“What?” the man spat out.
She sighed. “Nothing. Get lost and don’t trouble me again.” She released his hair after giving it one last pull.
“Fucking…….” the man growled.
“Take your buddy with you.” she patted his shoulder and stood up.

She dusted her hands and took off. The lights flickered like they were a prop in a haunted show. She pulled at her jacket again and laboured towards the end of the alleyway. Tomorrow, she will take the long road. She won’t disregard her instincts again.