• The full moon was obscured by angry clouds. Thunder rumbled on the edge of hearing; lightning flashed somewhere in the distance, brightening the sky momentarily; hail bounced off concrete and car roofs. Rainwater snaked across the street in misty tendrils and ran in rivers through the culverts. Santa Monica Boulevard buzzed by on Alex’s left. The shoulder passed slowly under his feet as he made his way towards 4th. The traffic took no interest in him as he walked with his head lowered and bright green eyes pointed straight forward; the angle of his head and the level of his eyes would have mingled to give him something of a sinister look, had anybody seen him. A black sweater was wrapped around his shoulders; long since soaked through, it did little to shield him from the chill wind and pounding rain. Alex had his hood up over a brown ball cap, shrouding his face and protecting his head from the worst of the hailstones. He shivered in the cold, but his hands never moved from their place in the pockets of his faded jeans. He was wearing white tennis shoes; in the subtle glow from the streetlamps they gleamed bright and new in stark contrast with the rest of his outfit, which looked as if it had seen its share of rainy days.