The strangers closed in.
Their shadows lengthened across the gravel yard, stretching toward Bobby and Darius like claws.
The tall man in the coat kept his hands raised, palms outward. His tone was calm, even reassuring, but his eyes never blinked.
“We don’t want trouble,” he said.
Bobby didn’t believe it for a second.
He’d seen Loopers wear masks before, literally and otherwise. They’d passed for teachers, neighbors, friendly faces who lingered just long enough to cut him down.
These strangers didn’t need glowing cracks or masks. There was something in their stillness—too precise, too sharp—that made Bobby’s skin crawl.
Darius noticed it too. He adjusted his grip on the pulse gun, keeping it half-raised despite his injuries. His voice was a rasp, low but steady.
“You’ve already fou
