Slowly, carefully, he raised his head and looked out from under the dumpster lid. The street was empty except for a rat about the size of a malnourished beagle nosing through a pile of garbage near the mouth of the alley. No sign of the Disassemblers. The trolls were probably dragging themselves back to their normal turf, trying to forget about the Amerindian punk who’d made fools of them. With a grin, he reached up and pushed against the lid.