Alex was sure he was being watched. He looked over his shoulder, at a pair of men sitting at a table next to the door. He tried to keep the gesture casual, a glance down the bar that allowed him to see the men in his peripheral vision. They were talking, their conversation too low to be heard over the din of the busy pub. Neither man looked toward him.

His chest tightened in frustration, and even a little fear. He had checked several times already, and watched their reflection in his glass of beer, but he'd never caught them looking his way. The one facing him, a bearded man with a milk-chocolate complexion, had a friendly face and a frequent laugh. Alex had seen him glance around the pub a few times, but only to wave down the server for another round.

Alex knew he should feel relieved, but instead, he was even more certain that the two men were watching him. He'd sensed it, a pair of eyes on him, periodically throughout the night. The hair on the back of his neck would suddenly stiffen, and his gut would twist uncomfortably. A moment later it would fade, but not disappear. He'd tried to tell himself it was just nerves, and he knew he had good reason to be nervous.

The visit he was about to make was dangerous. He had been warned to tell no one where he was going, and to ensure he wasn't followed. With many acquaintances but few real friends, these instructions had seemed easy. He wiped his clammy hands on his pants, and considered again that he was just imagining pursuit. Looking at the bearded man's face, he could believe that.

But not the other man with him, the one that was facing away. Alex traced a pattern in the condensation from his drink as he stole another glance. Even unable to see the second man's face, he could feel that he was not smiling like his drinking partner. Something in his posture was alert, even threatening. Alex's instincts screamed that this man was watching his every move.

He decided to leave, although it was still early for his appointment. He forced a few big swallows of his beer, though by now it was disgustingly warm. Killing a few hours here had been part of his strategy, to relax while also alerting him to any interest in his activities. Better to drink slowly, just enough to avoid annoying the staff. Being tipsy would only increase the danger he might face.

Alex motioned to the bartender to close his tab. It took several minutes, as the pub was packed with people coming out of the cold night. He glanced towards the back of the bar, considering how he might validate his intuition. He dropped a few dollars for the tip and headed for the restrooms.

He whirled suddenly enough that his footing was a bit unsteady, but he thought anyone that saw it would chalk it up to him being drunk. Stepping back over to the bar, he picked up the sunglasses he'd left there. He'd made sure he had a look when they wouldn't be expecting it, but again, neither man was looking his way. The bearded man was laughing as if at some joke his partner had made.

No one followed Alex into the restroom, so he was surprised that the feeling of being watched did not diminish as the door closed behind him. He glanced at another man standing in front of a urinal, but the man was swaying on his feet. Alex took his time, but the feeling of observation had diminished before the drunk was gone.

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Washing his hands, he regarded his reflection in the mirror. Was he really just imagining being watched by those two men? If anything, he thought it was stranger that the wiry man hadn't seemed to look around at all.

Shaking the water from his hands, he tousled his curly mop of dark brown hair and smiled at his reflection. "I need to be confident," he murmured. Working himself up over imagined fears would make him appear weak.

He left the restroom with a sense of resolution. He passed through the back bar area and strode towards the entrance. The bearded man did glance up at his approach, but dropped his eyes back to his phone. The second man was gone.

"Shit!" Alex muttered to himself. He cast a quick glance around the bar, but didn't see the suspected pursuer. The feeling of being watched had not returned. He looked at the table as he passed. The wiry man's glass still had an inch of amber liquid in the bottom but his black coat and hat were no longer slung over the back of the next chair. The bearded man was playing a puzzle game on his phone, and his credit card was sticking out from the folder the servers used to drop off the tab.

A sick feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. He wasn't even sure why he felt so strongly that the missing man was watching him, but Alex had lost the opportunity to see his face. And given the man the opportunity to follow him.

Alex stepped outside and zipped up his jacket against the chill. The streets of Old Town, crowded with people during the day, emptied quickly on a weekday winter night, but King Street was always well lit. Fashionable boutiques and small restaurants filled the historic old brick buildings that line this main thoroughfare. The pub was one of the few establishments that stayed open this late.

He looked left and right. There were few pedestrians, and he didn't see a man wearing a black coat.

His destination was not far, two blocks to the south, but he decided to circle around to it. He walked west to the corner at Lee Street, then paused to wait as a few cars passed. The feeling of being watched grew again, and he couldn't help glancing around to see if anyone were looking at him. He looked down the side streets as he passed, and saw that each sidewalk was empty.

He passed Market Square on the other side of the road, and peered into the shadows of the unlit plaza. He kept his head turning, trying to look like he was merely taking in the night air, but after two blocks he still saw no one looking at him. The bearded man had not left the pub behind him. The man with the black coat and hat was nowhere to be found.

Alex wanted to laugh. The whole thing must have been in his head. He walked purposefully to the next intersection before he looked around a final time.

The historic buildings had here given way to modernity. On the opposite corner of the intersection shone the glaring lights of an all-night pharmacy. There was a man standing there, talking on his cell phone. Alex froze in shock as the man happened to step through the light pouring out of the store's tall windows. In that moment, he had looked identical to the friendly face of the bearded man in the pub.

Alex turned left down the side street, trying to keep his pace casual. Perhaps it was the same man? It wouldn't be unusual to stop for something at the pharmacy before going home. But how? The man was still in the pub when Alex had left, and could not have reached the CVS before him without running past.

A glance back revealed only that the man was gone. His unease returned, Alex trotted the next two blocks to Duke Street. He turned again, then slowed to a quick walk until he neared Fairfax Street once again. There were several well kept historic townhomes on his left. Recognizing his destination, he briefly stopped and spun in a circle. There was no one, no sound, no movement. With a sigh, he walked to the door and lifted the knocker. A moment later, the door opened into blackness.