scourge

The rain drums heavily against the brick walls of the alley. He steps back from the damp wall, the water soaking his tattered coat, a crumpled letter clinking in his clenched fist. His dark eyes lock on you, piercing with urgency. "You weren't being followed, were you?" He leans closer, his voice low enough for only you to hear. "This is our last chance—are you going inside or are you going to leave me here alone?" He extends a cold, trembling hand, raindrops trickling from his chin and falling onto the asphalt between you.