"Callie, got a package for ya!"
I look up to see Brandon waving a delivery slip in the air with an urgent look on his tanned face. Short brown hair sticks out of the baseball cap he constantly wears, and his puppy brown eyes are wide as he looks around the delivery room.
Sighing quietly, I sit up and stretch my arms over my head, hearing the joints in my shoulders pop softly. As I stand up from the bench I was napping on, Brandon finally sees me and stops waving the paper around. With a frown on his face, he watches me sternly as I walk up to the counter.
"Whatcha got for me, boss?" I ask as I lean against the counter, resting my elbow on the top of it.
His frown deepens into a scowl as he stares at my arm and says, "Get your grubbiness off my counter, woman!"
I slide my arm off the counter slowly, watching his face go red and his nostrils flare in irritation. A small smile tugs at my lips, but I know better than to show my enjoyment at annoying him.
The last person who did got fired and since this is the only job I can get without anyone caring about what I am or where I come from, I need to keep it. That doesn't mean I can't tweak his tail, though.
"Ahh, boss, you know you love me." I flash a saucy smile at him.
His features soften a little before he frowns deeply at me and growls, "You might be my best runner, Callie, but don't think I won't sack you. No one sullies my counter!"
He squints his eyes at me, and I take a step back with my hands up, showing that I meant nothing by my teasing. He hmphs and nods his head as he reaches underneath the counter to pull a small box out.
He hands it to me with the slip on top as he explains, "Going to Spider's. Don't dilly dally either, there's a bonus for ya if you gets it to her before lunch."
The grin he gives me is a little mean as I look at the clock above his head.
Fifteen minutes.
I take the package from him quickly and sprint out the door, knowing I can make it if I hustle and use the still stable roofs. I tuck the box into my backpack before slipping it over my shoulders, leaving the building to duck into the side alley. Glancing around to make sure no one's watching, I extract my claws and scale up the side of the wall to the roof. The sun hits my face and a light breeze whispers around me, bringing with it the smell of my city.
Taking a deep breath, I turn west toward the Gardens and start running, jumping effortlessly between buildings as I make my way to Spider's place in the worst part of town. Full of drugs, prostitution, and overall bad juju, her area isn't braved by many. Having grown up there, I understand what places to stay out of and where the safe routes are, most days anyway. Boundaries change day to day between the different gangs, so there are times that I get caught on the wrong side at the wrong time.
As I jump the last gap between usable roofs, I look over the sea of tents and crates secured against crumbling buildings that make up the Badlands, the place I used to call home.
Jumping down to the street below, I land in a crouch on the broken asphalt next to a bright blue tarp owned by Trey, a guy who thinks he's the area's guard and the gods' gift to women. All he really is though is a flirt and a busybody, but he's good for a bit of gossip occasionally.
Seeing Trey pop his head out of his makeshift tent, I yell out as I run by, "Can't stop, got a deadline. Catch ya on the way back!"
I throw my hand up to wave at him behind me as I book it down the street, weaving between people and animals.
Hearing a commotion ahead of me, I turn sharply to the right between two tents connected overhead by old clothes braided into ropes. Unlit lanterns hang overhead and swing gently as a light breeze comes down the alley's mouth. I smile and wave at a few people who are relaxing under the shade the tarps provide before turning left. I run behind a pile of debris that used to be a coffee shop back before the Quake, stopping to catch my breath at the corner.
Looking up, I'm surprised to see Ricky slumped against the wall between the buildings. Only a few years older than me, Ricky has worked with Brandon before I showed up a year ago, and he never took a job that brought him down here. Sniffing the air, I can detect traces of blood and Nightshade, a drug that popped up on the streets a few weeks ago.
Shaking my head, I creep closer to him, lightly touching his shoulder so I don't startle him. Ricky slides onto his side, leaving a streak of blood along the wall behind him as he falls. Staring at his lifeless body in surprise, a full body shiver racks my frame and I look around.
No one's paying any attention to us. Looking back at Ricky, I kneel and check for a pulse even though I instinctively know it's a waste of time. His skin is clammy and cold against my fingers, I can't feel a heartbeat. Sighing sadly, I look at his face and have to hold back a scream. His face is so bruised and beaten that if I didn't know it was him from his scent, I wouldn't have recognized him.
His eyes are open as wide as is his mouth, as though he'd been literally scared to death. Moving away quickly, I turn and run out of the alley, getting as far away from the horror I'd seen etched onto his face as fast as I can. Spotting a familiar street sign, I put on a burst of speed and duck under the tent flap of Spider's home.