Leon barely made it through the front door before racing upstairs.
He didn’t even stop to take off his shoes.
The second he reached his bedroom, he dropped into the chair in front of his computer and pulled up the surveillance results.
A new notification filled the screen.
Five possible matches detected.
Locations were listed beneath it.
Brooklyn.
Queens.
Several other parts of the city.
Leon immediately opened the first image.
Then the second.
Then the third.
He compared every face against the mugshot he’d found in the NYPD database and the portrait Venom had drawn.
Some of the surveillance footage was grainy.
Others were badly lit or taken from awkward angles.
Leon examined every detail anyway.
Jawline.
Hair.
Build.
Eyes.
Anything that could confirm the match.
Venom’s head emerged from his shoulder.
It watched for a few seconds.
“Stop wasting your time.” Leon ignored it.
Venom tapped him on the head with a tendril.
“None of those five are him.” Leon finally glanced sideways.
“You’re sure?” “I remember his face perfectly.” Venom pointed at the screen.
“Your software might be confused by blurry footage, but I’m not.” Leon still refused to give up.
One by one, he inspected all five results himself.
Several minutes later, he leaned back.
Venom had been right.
“Damn it.” None of them were Rick Frey.
Leon exhaled slowly.
He had known from the beginning that finding Rick this quickly would’ve been unbelievably lucky.
That didn’t stop the disappointment.
Every hour Rick remained free felt intolerable.
Leon wanted to find him now.
Not tomorrow.
Not next week.
Now.
The image of Ben dying inside the wrecked van surfaced again.
Leon’s fingers tightened around the armrest.
If he could’ve appeared beside Rick at that exact moment, he would’ve wrapped his hands around the man’s throat without hesitation.
Broken his neck.
Crushed every bone in his body.
Made him experience a fraction of what Leon had felt watching Ben die.
Venom sensed the anger flowing through their bond.
A tendril rested against Leon’s shoulder.
“Don’t worry.” Its voice was unusually calm.
“With this many cameras watching for him, he won’t stay hidden forever.” Leon didn’t respond.
Venom added, “Soon enough, you’ll get to do exactly what you’ve been thinking about.” Then its tone brightened.
“Just remember to leave me the head.” Leon slowly looked at it.
Venom considered the request.
“Well…” A pause.
“If necessary, you don’t actually have to leave the whole head.” Leon stared.
Venom grinned.
“That was generous of me.” Leon opened his mouth.
Before he could reply— Beep.
Another notification appeared on the computer.
Both of them froze.
Leon immediately turned back toward the screen.
One possible match detected.
Location: 7-Eleven, outskirts of Brooklyn.
Venom reacted before Leon could even enlarge the image.
“That’s him!” Leon leaned so close to the monitor that his face was almost touching it.
The security-camera image wasn’t perfect.
But this time there was no doubt.
Close-cropped hair.
Same face.
Same build.
Even the same hard, hostile look in his eyes.
Rick Frey.
Leon shot to his feet.
The chair rolled backward and slammed into the wall.
A second later— BANG!
The bedroom window flew open as Leon launched himself through it.
Before his feet even touched the ground, black symbiote matter had already spread across his entire body.
Venom covered him completely.
Hood.
Mask.
White eyes.
Then Leon hit the pavement.
BOOM!
Concrete cracked beneath his feet.
A shallow crater formed where he’d landed.
The black figure shot forward.
This time Leon didn’t bother controlling the movement himself.
“Venom.” “I know.” “Get us there.” Venom took over.
Their body accelerated.
Fast.
Much faster than Leon had managed during his own practice.
They ran across rooftops.
Leaped over alleys.
Swung between buildings.
Dropped to the street when that was faster, then launched themselves upward again.
Venom had spent the last several days consuming enough chocolate to finally replenish much of its energy.
Now that energy showed.
Leon and Venom tore through New York like a streak of black lightning.
Rick Frey had absolutely no idea that death was racing toward him.
At that moment, he was standing inside a convenience store deciding what supplies to take back to his basement.
He grabbed several cans of food.
A few bottles of alcohol.
Snacks.
Some other miscellaneous supplies.
Then he carried everything to the register.
Rick dropped the items on the counter.
“And give me a pack of Marlboros.” He pointed toward the cigarettes behind the clerk.
The young cashier turned, retrieved a pack, and added it to the bag.
He checked the total.
“Twenty dollars and fifty-four cents.” Rick reached into his pocket.
A twenty.
Then another bill.
He searched again.
Nothing smaller.
“Shit.” Rick checked the other pocket.
Still no change.
He looked at the cashier.
“Hey.” The clerk stiffened slightly.
“I don’t have the fifty-four cents.” Rick lifted his chin.
“Call it even.” The cashier hesitated.
Rick’s appearance and attitude screamed trouble.
The young man clearly wanted no part of an argument.
Unfortunately, he also wanted to keep his job.
“S-sorry.” Rick’s expression darkened.
The cashier swallowed.
“I’d let it go, but I’m just an employee.” Rick stared at him.
“If the owner notices I’m short, he’ll fire me.” The cashier forced an awkward smile.
“He’s this angry old drunk who thinks I’m stealing from the register half the time.” He pointed toward the ceiling.
“He checks the security cameras constantly.” Rick followed the gesture.
A camera stared down at the counter.
His jaw tightened.
Smart little bastard.
The clerk hadn’t directly threatened him.
But the message was obvious.
You’re being recorded.
And somebody watches this footage.
Rick’s eyes hardened.
“Motherfucker.” The cashier flinched.
For one terrifying second, he wondered if he’d made a fatal mistake.
The man in front of him looked exactly like the kind of person who might pull a gun over fifty-four cents.
I should’ve just let him go.
Too late now.
Rick angrily searched through the shopping bag.
He grabbed several snacks and threw them across the counter.
Some struck the cashier in the chest before falling to the floor.
“There.” Rick sneered.
“That should cover your precious fifty-four cents.” He grabbed the remaining bag.
“What a fucking dump.” Then he walked out.
The convenience-store door slammed behind him hard enough to rattle the glass.
The cashier remained frozen for a moment.
Only after Rick disappeared did he crouch down and begin gathering the snacks from the floor.
“Gangster asshole.” He shoved one item back onto a shelf.
Then another.
“Tomorrow I’m telling that fat bastard I quit.” The slightly higher hourly wage had been the only reason he’d agreed to work this far outside the busier parts of the city.
The farther you got from downtown, the more unpredictable the customers became.
Tonight had destroyed whatever remaining optimism he’d had about the job.
Rick was equally furious when he reached his car.
If he hadn’t been under orders to keep a low profile, the cashier would’ve gotten a very different response.
There was a handgun tucked into the back of Rick’s waistband.
Before going into hiding, he’d rarely needed more than a threatening look and a hand moving toward his gun to make people shut up.
Most convenience-store workers in rougher neighborhoods knew better than to challenge someone connected to a gang.
If Rick actually paid for something, it usually meant he was in a good mood.
Things were different closer to the center of the city.
Too many cameras.
Too many cops.
Too many witnesses.
But out here?
Normally, people knew when to keep their mouths shut.
Rick tossed the bag onto the passenger seat.
“What a fucking week.” He climbed into the beat-up car and drove back toward the basement where he’d been hiding.
He should’ve been outside the United States already.
That had been the plan.
Unfortunately, security checks had suddenly tightened.
The man arranging his departure told him they needed several more days to make the necessary arrangements.
Naturally, the price had also increased by ten percent.
Rick’s grip tightened around the steering wheel.
Nothing had gone smoothly since the crash.
He should never have followed orders and hidden in that basement.
The moment he’d finished the job, he should’ve disappeared.
Now he was stuck waiting.
Every extra day made him more anxious.
Eventually, the car reached his temporary hideout.
Rick grabbed the bag and suitcase and headed inside.
The old basement door groaned loudly as he forced it shut.
He dropped his purchases on the floor.
Then reached for the light switch.
Click.
Nothing.
Rick frowned.
He flipped it again.
Click.
Click.
Darkness.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” He tried several more times.
The cheap light had always been terrible, but apparently tonight it had finally died completely.
“Fuck!” Rick punched the wall.
Pain shot through his knuckles.
That only made him angrier.
He sat down heavily on the bed and opened the cigarettes he’d just bought.
Normally, Marlboros weren’t his first choice.
He preferred weed or something stronger when he could get it.
Tonight, nicotine would do.
Rick placed a cigarette between his lips.
Flick.
His lighter sparked.
Orange flame illuminated the basement.
He lit the cigarette.
Then released the lighter.
Darkness returned.
Only the glowing tip remained.
Rick inhaled deeply.
The cigarette brightened.
For a moment, the red-orange glow pushed back the darkness directly in front of him.
And Rick saw something.
He stopped breathing.
A figure was crouching less than three feet away.
Face-to-face with him.
Black.
Huge.
Impossible.
Two elongated white eyes stared at Rick without warmth or emotion.
Below them— A monstrous mouth slowly opened.
Rows of razor-sharp teeth gleamed in the faint light.
A long red tongue slipped between them and curled through the air like a living snake.
Rick’s cigarette fell from his lips.
His face drained of color.
“AAAAAH—!” The scream erupted through the basement.
Then stopped abruptly.
Outside, several crows startled from the trees.
Their harsh cries echoed through the night.
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