a reply
“Shit.” Jack thought aloud as he heard the knock on his door. Jack had been on the run for quite some time, keeping a low profile, and trying to stay as far away from California and The Committee as possible. Needless to day, any sort of unexpected visitor was unwelcome.
His senses might have been more dull than usual, but they were still sharp enough to tell Jack that the person at his door was alone, and that he wasn't anyone Jack had ever met before. Jack sat down the food-stained take-out box and moved toward the door. It wasn't quite dark enough yet for him to make the change, so just in case, he grabbed a wooden baseball bat. He leaned in to look through the peep hole and saw a large African American man wearing an eye patch.
Jack sighed to himself. “This is going to end badly.” he muttered as he slid the chains loose and turned the dead-bolt. He opened the door a few inches and nervously looked into the dimly lit hall. “Whatever you're sellin'...I'm not interested.”