State of Pursuit by Summer Lane

good.
    And then I see him. He’s sitting on the edge of a park bench on the right of the playground equipment. He’s wrapped up in a black coat and scarf, watching us. Motionless. Behind him is a row of wrecked housing.
    “Is that our man?” Uriah asks.
    “I guess so,” I say. “There’s only one way to find out.”
    Manny leads the way.
    I bring Katana to a halt and dismount. The grass is dead – it snaps under my boots. The man on the bench doesn’t move. He stares at me, unmoving.
    As I get closer, Katana hesitates. I catch a whiff of something. It’s probably the stagnant pond – setting water smells disgusting.
    “I’m Yankee One,” I say, palms up. “And this is my team.”
    The man doesn’t move. In fact, he doesn’t even
blink
.
    I step closer. His skin is pale. I sniff the air.
    Oh, God. One eye is red and glassy, and I notice a purple bruise on the side of his face. He’s dead.
    “That is
disgusting
,” Vera complains.
    “So much for our contact,” Uriah says. He dismounts his horse and studies the corpse. “He’s been dead for a couple of days – no longer than that.”
    “Do you think Omega did this?” Vera wonders.
    “No. Gangs, most likely,” Manny replies. “If it were Omega, they would have questioned and tortured him before he died. This fellow looks like he was hit in the head once.” Manny examines the dead man’s head. “Yes. Blunt force trauma.”
    “Are you a doctor now, Manny?” Vera asks, blasé.
    “As a matter of fact-”
    “-We can take a trip down memory lane later,” I interrupt. “Somebody left him here for a reason.”
    “So we could find him,” Andrew states. “It’s meant to scare us.”
    “Well…” I look around. “Are we scared?”
    No one answers. I look around at my team, alert and in defensive formation, awaiting threats. Waiting for my word.
    “I’m going to take that as a no,” I surmise.
    In truth, I’m quaking on the inside. Our contact is dead, which means we’ll have to find somewhere to take the horses before we head into the city on foot. And anybody who is sadistic enough to leave a dead man sitting upright on a park bench
does
scare me.
    I’m not entirely fearless.
    “He was supposed to take us to the Way House,” Vera says, tapping the dead man’s shoe. “Now what do we do? What do we do with the horses?”
    “Commander, on your six o’clock,” Uriah says.
    I turn quickly, noting the urgency in his voice. A man is standing on the edge of the park. His hands are up, showing that he is unarmed. My militia is already on him, surrounding him as quickly and efficiently as a pack of wolves.
    The man is dressed in sandy combat fatigues and a leather jacket. His jet-black hair is shaggy and overgrown. I blink, recognition dawning on me.
    “Oh, my God,” I say. “Alexander Ramos.”

    I don’t even think about what I do next. I cross the distance between Alexander and I. I throw my arms around his neck and give him a tight, relieved hug. He doesn’t return the hug – but he doesn’t shove me away, either. I take that as a fairly positive sign.
    “How is this
possible
?” I whisper.
    Alexander Ramos is supposed to be dead. Yet here he is, alive. “Ramos?” Derek grabs his hand. “What happened, man? What are you doing in Toluca Lake?”
    “We thought you were
dead
,” Vera states matter-of-factly.
    “Technically, you
are
,” Manny mutters.
    “Long story,” Alexander replies gruffly. He’s purely non-emotional about the reunion. Unsurprising. He was never the touchy-feely type. But I can bet that if Sophia Rodriguez had known that we would find Alexander on this mission, she would have come with us.
    “Are you supposed to be our Underground contact?” Andrew asks.
    “I am,” Alexander confirms.
    “Who’s the dead guy on the bench, then?”
    “He
was
your contact.” Alexander looks right at me. “He didn’t come back to base, so they sent me out.”
    I exhale. Yet another man dies this day.
    Suck it up,