I woke up to the sound of someone creeping down the alleyway. The person was a bit more skilled at being sneaky than the average homeless person. In my mind's eye, I could almost see him or her. Weight resting on the balls of the feet, knees bent just the slightest degree, arms hanging ready to fight or defend.
I knew what skills were needed. What stealthy looked like, especially on the streets. You learned early or you died early. Markus had always said that. Before he died too early.
"Hey there," the male voice said.
I stilled, cringed. Not that I would have chosen one over the other, but at least with a woman I would've had a sliver of a chance at survival. Men, in my experience, only wanted one thing. And they would do anything to get it.
"Hey there, little fella. I'm not going to hurt you," the man said in a soothing tone. "I'm just going to get you out of there. My friend - well, one of my brothers, really - he loves animals. He can get you fixed right up."