The Prof Croft Series: Books 0-4 (Prof Croft Box Sets Book 1) by Brad Magnarella (best business books of all time txt) 📕

to paw through a trashcan. Far down the valley of buildings, the smoky sky opened over the Hudson River, New Jersey on its far shore.

Something Chicory had told me years before suddenly came back.

If you need to flee the city for any reason, he’d said, there’s a spot on Gehr Place, just over the river. Little blue house on a short street. You can’t miss it. Chicory didn’t elaborate other than to say the house was to be used in life or death situations only. This seemed to meet that requirement.

To get there, though, I’d need money.

I looked at the quarter I’d been handed. Well short of cab fare, but for a bus through the Lincoln Tunnel I’d only need a dollar fifty more. I knew where a stop was, too. Tacking north and west, I petitioned more pedestrians. Two blocks later, I had enough—and just as a Jersey-bound bus was pulling up to the stop.

Thank God.

I hurried toward the bus and boarded, two foot patrols converging on the sidewalk behind me.

I took a seat near the bus’s rear door and looked out the grimy window. The police officers stopped to talk. A couple of them pointed back toward the east. With a grunt, the bus pulled from the stop in the opposite direction. I snuck a look around. The handful of passengers jouncing in their seats weren’t interested in me. I relaxed back into the fumes of my coat.

Almost home free, I thought. Thanks to Vega.

She must have seen I was being set up and rushed to the college to beat the police there, probably after trying me at my apartment. When she found me in their custody, she had improvised, pretending to want some one-on-one time to tear into me. And, man, had she sold it.

If I ever got out of this, I owed that woman. Big time.

Right now, though, I had to consider my next move. After Chicory had told me about the house, I’d located Gehr Place on a map. I pulled up the mental equivalent. Should be easy enough to reach, I thought, working out the route for when I got off the bus. Then I’ll find the blue house and see what’s what. I couldn’t imagine the Order would be upset. I had received permission from Chicory to participate in the eradication program, after all. The lie about working with the vampires could hardly be blamed on me. Then again, we were talking about the Order.

“Oh, fer chrissake,” the bus driver complained above the sharp hiss of air brakes.

Seizing the pole beside me, I rose and peered out the front window. We had just crossed Seventh Avenue, and for the next block and a half, red brake lights stared back at us through the smoke. I peered beyond the backup and felt my heart climb into my throat. The police had set up a checkpoint.

I blew out a hard sigh. Of course they did.

Up ahead, officers were interrogating drivers and opening trunks and van doors. I pictured a large cordon around Midtown, the college at the epicenter. Probably had the subway stations manned as well.

But that wasn’t the worst part.

As the bus inched forward, I could make out the uniforms of government security guards. The frigging werewolves were in on the hunt. Which meant that no matter how good my disguise or how foul smelling my coat, I wouldn’t escape their detection. I had to get off. Now.

I pulled the yellow bell cord. A sharp ding sounded. When the driver didn’t stop, I yanked the cord twice more.

“Heard you the first time, pal,” he growled. “The stop isn’t for another block.”

“Here’s fine,” I insisted.

“Can’t do it.”

Another block would put me too close to the checkpoint. And depending on which way the wind was blowing… Crap. Outside my window, the triangular flaps from a theater awning were batting westward. If I disembarked any nearer, the wolves would definitely pick up my scent.

I slapped at the back door. “C’mon, man. I’ve gotta go.”

“Cross your legs and clench.”

Several passengers chuckled at the driver’s quip, but it gave me an idea.

“Fine,” I said, pretending to unbuckle my pants as I squatted. “It’s your mess.”

The ruse worked. The driver’s eyes started in the rearview mirror, and he stomped the brakes. The back door flopped open. I wasted no time jumping from the bus, the driver’s colorful threats trailing after me.

I waited until I was halfway down the block before peeking over a shoulder. At the checkpoint, one of the wolves had straightened from a car he’d been inspecting. His head was tilted back in a sniffing posture. Through the smoke and exhaust, a slip of my scent had reached him.

Swearing, I hastened my pace.

At the far end of the block, I spotted the four officers I’d seen from the bus. They were turning back in my direction, one of them speaking into his shoulder mike. Wonderful. The werewolf must have radioed to tell them I was near. I slowed as more officers appeared. They were stopping pedestrians now, herding everyone toward the checkpoint with shouts and pistol motions.

Several officers remained behind to watch buildings—no doubt until a wolf arrived to clear them. I took a hard right into a Korean grocery store. There would be a rear exit, maybe an alleyway, a fence I could jump. But I had barely made it past a stand of colorful snack bags when a squat woman charged from behind the register and blocked my way.

“You leave!” she shouted up at me. “No steal food!”

My disguise was a little too good, apparently. “No, no, I’m not here to take anything. I just wanted to see if you have a back door.” My hope was to slip out before the officers could cover the rear of the building. I pointed past the woman and spoke slowly. “Back door?”

“No steal food!” she repeated, jabbing me in the stomach with a pair of fingers.

“Hey! Ow!”

All right, this wasn’t working. Not wanting to draw any more attention,