***

After Todd dropped Emma off at her home, he walked back to his own place with the dying light fading behind him. Once inside, he headed to his room and kicked off his shoes. He turned his back to the door, and a few seconds later a blinding pain cracked the back of his skull, sending waves of throbbing pressure across his entire head. He collapsed forward on the bed, arms and legs attempting to push himself up, but he was still too disoriented from the blow. He felt hands grab his neck and fling him off the bed. The blurred face of the thug from the blood testing stared back at him.

“Enjoy your walk?” the thug asked then sent his fist across Todd’s cheek.

A spray of spit and blood flew from Todd’s mouth from the force of the punch. He fell to his side, and the throbbing in his head intensified from the thug’s blow.

“How’d you do it? Huh? Where’s the rest of the soil?” the thug asked.

“I… don’t… know,” Todd stammered.

“You don’t know?” The thug removed a blade from his waist and held it up to Todd’s throat. “How about now?”

A dribble of blood rolled from Todd’s lip down his chin, where it hung until it dripped onto the thug’s knife. He opened and closed his eyes, trying to get a handle on the pounding in his skull. “I’m not telling you anything. So you better just kill me now.”

The thug applied more pressure, and the edge of the blade penetrated Todd’s skin, sending a small trickle of blood down his neck. Todd didn’t take his eyes off the thug. If he was going to die, then he was going to look at the man who did it.

“Idealistic prick,” the thug said then sent another blow to the side of Todd’s face, knocking him out cold.