Waste Deep

Waste Deep Chapter 10: "Oh, for fucks sake!"

When the initial shock had worn off, and Harvel had located the teeth he suspected might have been rattling around in the back of his throat, the trip was actually quite smooth. He'd definitely been on rougher flights. Though, he was currently having trouble remembering them. 

He glanced over to see Parker seemingly staring out of the rear hatch. She'd gone stark still after about five minutes and had stayed that way for the last hour. Harvel was sure he could see the wheels spinning behind her eyes. He'd never gotten to know much about implants. Most in the Wharf couldn't afford them.

Dibbuk had a phone implant in her arm. She'd nearly talked him into getting one himself, but he'd never really liked people being able to get ahold of him whenever they wanted in the first place. If the phone was embedded in your arm you couldn't even say you'd left it at home. Seemed like a bit of a nightmare in his opinion. 

Harvel opened his mouth to ask her what she was looking for, but before he could get a word out the intercom buzzed on. "We're coming up on the Swamp, you strapped in?" Aldon asked. Parker leaned back and held down a button above his head. 

"Yeah, we're all good back here. You see anything ahead?" Parker asked, her eyes never leaving the city rolling out behind them. 

"Nope, but you know how it is. Gonna get bumpy either way." Aldon responded, letting out a little chuckle. 

"Wait, we're going through the Swamp? Why?" Harvel interjected, audible fear leaking into his voice. The Swamp was the nickname given to a particularly unsavory area that ran in a crescent through the south and south western areas of the city. It had originally been an upscale neighborhood named Cranes Call, but after "Taco Tuesday" it had been abandoned, the infrastructure damaged beyond repair.

Lier told him it had been the epicenter of the event. The pure amount of back up had flooded nearly every building from the top down within a thirty mile radius, and while some might have been salvageable, most were abandoned. With the buildings empty and the streets left nigh unlivable, the mass migration of gangs into the area was only natural. 

The stench and the lack of a local police force meant the cops had practically erased the district from their files. The canals that ran through it were lined with armed guards, employed by companies that found it cheaper to pay for funerals than for extra fuel. Even then, any ships that passed through the area did so at twice the legal speed. 

 Before becoming a waste-walker, Harvel had never dealt much with the gangs that hung out there. He'd crossed paths with a few of the Wharfs local dealers and enforcers before, most being more interested in selling bootleg VR, drugs, or collecting debts in lieu of collecting bodies. The gangs from the Swamp on the other hand were a completely different monster. 

In the pipes he'd become all too familiar with them. They liked to run their operations through level two where the Davies were less dense. It was an unfortunate coincidence that level two was particularly dense in waste-walker patrols. They weren't cops by any means, but the gangs from the Swamp weren't a very discerning bunch.

There'd been a few close calls. Warning shots for the most part. He remembered one instance in particular in which that hadn't been an option. The man had been holding a grenade. Harvel hadn't let him get as far as arming it. Explosives and enclosed spaces didn't mix well. 

That didn't make him feel much better about it. It had happened so fast he couldn't even remember pulling the trigger. They'd turned a corner and there he'd been. By the time he'd taken the grenade out of the case he'd been hauling, Harvel had already pulled the trigger. He hadn't even known for sure it was a grenade. 

For legal reasons the team had lied and said it could have been any of them who'd killed him. It would have violated Harvels convicted service contract otherwise. The rest of the team had known better. Lier had known better. Harvel had known better. The cops hadn't really cared either way.