Dusk was falling, and with the coming darkness the civilians were hurrying for home and the predators were coming out. Go-gangs on their hyped-wheels, razorboys in their leather and chromes, the full assortment of Miami gutterkin. But this was a residential hood. No flash bars, topless jis arenas, simsense parlors, or anything of real interest. The muscle would head for better hunting grounds. Soon the area would be clear.