The Chasmoto flowers emit a purple hued gas as I stuff them into a mason jar, my eyes darting back and forth to see if a delivery guy is nearby. I breathe quietly behind the black bandana covering my nose and mouth, don't want to get caught. These trucks should really be more secure than this, I crawled in when the coast was clear and grabbed at least three full bags of Chasmoto. I dipped before they even came back. 

"Hey, I thought you grabbed more than this," a gruff voice speaks against the thrashing winds of the sandstorm outside.

I freeze in place. Carajo. 

"I did," shouts a younger voice. "I filled the bags myself. Left no cactus unturned, I swear."

"So where did the rest of the shit go, Todd?"

Their voices are coming from outside the window of this Chasmoto grow shed; they're too close. Scooting against the wall away from the window, I quickly but quietly stuff the remaining Chasmoto into my bag. 

How am I getting to my bike? 

The two keep arguing when I spot the backdoor, the only exit that seems to be unblocked. 

I guess I'm crawling today. 

There's a light clinking in my bag as the mason jars slide back and forth as I try to hustle my ass without being detected. When I reach the backdoor, I am careful of the squeaking hinges, sneaking out into the sun setting evening, orange washing over the dunes like paint. The sandy hills kick up under my feet as I fight against the storm, running away from the shed.

"Hey! You there!" says the Gruff.

Mierda. 

The sand slows me down but my boots still find a way to carry me to my hidden bike nearby. My back is sweaty and there's sand all in my afro, but I know what they do to thieves in the city. I hear gunshots behind me as I sprint against the relentless wind, grabbing my bike out of the sand and kick starting the engine. Oh, thank God, she's not giving me a hard time tonight. The armed delivery men continue to aimlessly shoot at me as I drive away, sand blowing in my wake. A laugh rises out of me suddenly. 

Ha, tarados. 

I follow the red moon as I drive, knowing Solterra lies just beyond it. I'm going to have to grind the Chasmoto and roll them up by the end of the night. Could've sworn I had a box full of dime bags under my bed, maybe I can still use those. This would be a hell of a lot easier if Daddy was still here. Thieving and dealing isn't what I would have chosen for myself, and he definitely wouldn't have wanted this for me either. 

Back when I was still going to school and Chasmoto had never entered our home, Daddy would tell me every night before going to sleep that this city wasn't the only thing in this world. He had come from a place farther than Solterra, and he would make sure I would get to see it one day, is what he told me. Ten-year-old me believed he would keep this promise without question, and dreamt of a place with oceans and lush forests, things my father had told me existed where he was from, things I had longed to see. Daddy never got to show me these things, however. He taught me how to disarm someone twice my size, how to always be alert and evade if trouble managed to find me; he knew he wouldn't be around long enough to do this himself. 

Shaking my head, the thoughts exit my brain for now and my brows scrunch together. I know that the scorpion snakes like to lurk around at this time of night, but I don't see any slithering about. The scorpion snakes like to come out and play when the blue moon rises. I'll definitely get to the city before then.

Solterra's looming saucer buildings are the first thing I see as I get closer to the wall. I approach the thick Angorium metal structure towering before me, making sure I'm out of sight from the cameras. Hiding my bike and climbing into the manhole close by, I slide the lid back in place and climb down the industrial ladder, grabbing my flashlight from my belt. 

Everybody prefers to pay Cato to drive them in and out of the city, but Cato winks at me a little too often when I walk by his store, so the tunnels have become very familiar to me. Dim blue green sconces light up the winding pathway of dripping pipes branching the ceiling. Rats scurry along this stretch of filth, climbing over trash and dirt and God knows what. The echo of my footsteps and my breathing are all I hear as I walk, counting the ladders that lead above ground silently. 

Almost there. 

I climb the fifth ladder up to the fifth manhole and push the lid up, checking my surroundings. My apartment isn't too far. The alley is empty, but I can hear voices at the far end opening into the street. Quiet as always, I push the cover over the hole to make room for my exit. I keep a lookout as I carefully move the lid back over the hole. 

"That's a strange place to be strolling around," says a hidden voice.

I jump what feels like ten feet in the air, the mason jars clinking in my bag.

Who said that?

My muscles are on alert and I slowly reach for the gun in my boot, assessing the darkness as my eyes adjust. The cool steel graces my fingertips as I pull it out. I hear rustling close by and I raise my gun. My Daddy's voice rings through my head. Don't give them an opening, Niobe. Be cutthroat. 

A shadowy figure rises from the ground and steps out of the cover of impending night. A scaly green snout protrudes from a raggedy black hood. A pair of burning yellow eyes stare back into mine. 

~*~

She raises her gun at me and I don't flinch, but my eyes never leave her movements. "Do you mind putting that away?" I ask. My palms face her, my voice calm.

I could disarm you if I wanted to, little girl.

The girl glares at me, gun still aimed to kill. "I don't know what your game is, lizard boy, but if you're planning on robbing me"-

"Hold on now, ain't nobody thinking of robbing you." I take note of the scorpion snake tattoo on her upper left arm, a Chasmoto flower blossoming across her shoulder right above it. 

Tough one, eh?

She walks closer to me, unafraid and face hidden behind a bandana. Her gun is closer to me now. "So why is a refugee like you hiding in a dark alley, huh? Hoping to snatch someone's money up?"

I can feel my eyes narrowing down at her. Such a small girl, she thinks she can threaten me? My hands fall to my sides and I peer down at the petite girl before me. "Listen, I was already here minding my business before you showed up. Don't you dare assume anything about me, you racist."

That threw her all the way off guard. Her gun falters from her grip a little. "I'm not assuming anything. You're the creep in the alley wearing a cloak, cabrón."

... She's right.... but she doesn't need to know that.

I roll my eyes, which I don't think she expects, and turn away from her walking down the entrance of the alley. I don't have to waste my time with an ignorant girl. She probably can't even use that gun correctly, her grip on that thing was embarrassing. If you're going to shoot, shoot with purpose.

"Freeze! SPD!" Three tall men with baton like tasers, dark green jackets, black pants, and wearing black police hats stand at the end of the alleyway, blocking off the exit.

"Oh fuck," the girl says behind me.

Shit. I didn't even do anything.

"Hands above your head, refugee!" they shout in my direction.

It's always the fucking refugee, isn't it? Can't possibly be the girl holding the weapon behind me.

They approach us, their taser sparking at the ends and ready to strike me down.

I hear a gunshot fly past me and I drop to the ground.

One of the officers screams in pain, clutching his bleeding arm.

I look towards the girl behind me. Holy shit, she really fired that thing. There she stands, a look of disbelief on her face.

An officer behind me pulls out his gun to shoot at her, when I charge at him, his body thrust backward by the weight of mine. Before the other one can raise his baton at her, I kick his legs out from underneath him, watching him fall face first onto the ground. This doesn't disorient him for too long, as his foot comes to meet my face.

White hot pain shoots all across my nose and throughout my snout.

The girl rears up to throw a punch to his face when he catches her fist, a look of pure anger on his face. Her boot suddenly crashes into the officer's face, rendering him unconscious. 

She looks to me, face cold as stone. "Why are you helping me?"

I smile against the pain. "I'm not as bad as you make me out to be."