To Escape From Gravity

Chapter Three

A sharp bark pierced the night air. The silence in its wake was heavy.

"Harlem, hush," Reed said firmly to the growling dog, placing a hand on the dog's head. The two continued at a brisk pace, passing the stumbling drunkard that had captured Harlem's aggressive focus.

"Pretty girls like you shouldn't..." the drunkard belched between his slurred words, "...you shouldn't be here." His shout followed Reed and Harlem down the alley. She didn't even bother to give him a look of pity as she quickly put distance between them and turned down the narrow road that led to the docking bay at Transit G.

There were always drunkards and wayward people down near the transits. Seeing them made Reed sick. A handful of times she had caught a glimpse of a sky citizen in a pathetic disguise, on their way to take advantage of a poor soul.

If it wasn't for Harlem, the long-barrelled pistol on her hip, and her instinct for maneuvering around danger, Reed would have met a brutal death years prior. Her first time walking through the southeast corner of Wardor, she barely escaped a vicious encounter with two grimy thugs. Harlem had ensured that the worst of her injuries was two broken ribs and a deep cut across her shoulder. Had he not been tenacious in fending off the men, Reed's life would have met a painful end.

She spent the next two weeks moving gingerly around Brisnick's house, an oddity of a man who was both a sort of employer and friend. And on multiple occasions, a generous host. As soon as the ribs healed enough for her to walk without wincing, she went to the pawn shop and bought a pistol with a fifth of her savings.

In the subsequent years, Reed had grown in savvy and strength. Though lowlifes would still stalk after her, ready to chase anything with an ounce of beauty, they were quick to divert their path after she'd flash the weapon and a steely glare. Harlem's deep growl and aggressive stance ensured no one reached out in a moment of drunken bravado.

***

Though the streets lacked decent lighting, Reed could move swiftly through Wardor. She had spent enough time on the ground city that her moves were deft and efficient.

The walk from McRidley's to Transit G took just under thirty minutes. Its docking bay was buzzing with activity as produce was brought in and loaded into massive steel containers. Workers moved between trucks and containers as mindless drones.

Harlem sniffed at a wayward apple in their path. If it hadn't been trampled beneath dozens of work boots, Reed herself would've found it tempting. She enjoyed the crunch of a fresh, juicy apple.

"You can't keep coming around here if you ain't going to make it worth my while." A meaty hand grabbed Reed's shoulder from behind and jerked her backwards.

She dipped her shoulder and spun to face him. The cold barrel of her pistol was beneath his chin in a moment. Bright green eyes held not a hint of fear as she silently stared him down. The only movement was the strands of red hair that escaped from beneath her hat, being twirled about in the wind. Harlem sat alert at her side. His ears twitched with alertness.

Grime and oil were smeared across his face, and a bead of sweat ran down from his left temple. Slowly raising his hands, he swallowed hard and shifted back. "You don't got to be like that, lady. I was just suggesting we could have a good time is all."

Reed's aim never left his head as he retreated. "A good time would start with you dead," she said with practiced coldness in her voice.

He quickly made himself disappear behind a shipping container and the pistol was back on her hip. Turning back towards the large dome building, Reed scanned the row of windows that lined its circumference.

A dim light pulsed from an isolated window. Diagon's office. Reed stooped to grab three small chunks of sandstone from the road. She briefly looked around, making sure there were no more unwelcome strangers approaching her.

With unwavering aim, the rocks clanked against the lit window in succession. A minute later, a shadow passed behind it. Reed casually made her way to a sturdy wooden crate that sat between two produce trucks. It was set back just enough to offer a bit of respite from the relentless wind. She tossed her hefty knapsack next to the crate, sat down and waited.

"You've been making a lotta trips up lately." Diagon's low voice appeared a few minutes later.

"I go where I'm needed. Turns out a lot of people up there are into some shady stuff."

"That's not surprising, I guess. I just thought maybe there's a reason you've been going up so much. I've been hearing some rumors that you're fitting in quite well with them sky people."

Reed let out a short laugh. "It'd take me fifty years to earn enough gold to fit in up there, I'd say you've been listening to idiots."

Diagon's deep-set eyes never stopped scanning the bustle of workers that moved in the night air. "Yeah, the world's full of them idiots. Maybe those rumors is just me hoping you're finding a way to make something of yourself off the ground."

Her eyes rose up to meet his, though he didn't hold her gaze but a beat. A genuine smile threatened to show. "It sounds like you got a soft spot for this ragged ground kid."

He snorted in response. "That don't sound like me at all. I just know you aspire to leave this sad place, and if anyone can do it, I think it could be you." It was a brief sentence of care, but Reed was used to so little care in her life, it hit her in an uncomfortable way.

"Yeah, well... I heard a rumor that you have some room on tonight's shipment," Reed said after a few moments of weighted silence. She was done with sentiments.

Diagon shoved calloused hands into the deep pockets of his pants. "I suppose I could make enough space to squeeze you in. Is that dusty pile of fur making the trip?" He never called Harlem by his name, but rather used an endless supply of unsavory descriptions. It didn't hide the affection he had towards the animal, though.

With a sigh, Reed responded, "I don't think this job is gonna have room for Harlem. It's one of those covert type of things."

"No need to ask, he can stay in my office a few nights. But don't you go dying up there and leave me stuck with that rat thing."

Another true smile spread across Reed's face. She stood up, her head barely hitting his chest, despite her rising to five foot ten. She extended her hand towards his and he was quick to grasp it and pull her in for the briefest embrace.

"Thanks, Diagon. I shouldn't be gone more than two nights."

He gave a quick nod and his eyes darted back to the activity at the docking bay. "You better hurry up and get ready to ascend."

Grabbing her knapsack and giving a low whistle to Harlem, she turned through the steel door and quickly climbed the stairs up to Diagon's office. Harlem followed close to her heels.

Diagon's office wasn't much. It consisted of a desk, a creaky chair, three cabinets stuffed with papers, and a standalone closet. She shrugged off her tan overcoat to expose a gray leather jacket. Reed hung the bulky coat with care in the closet. Looking like a ground citizen wouldn't help in Miasten, and a thick overcoat was synonymous with living on the ground. Wind moved gently through the sky city, so the people up there didn't require layers of protection like the people beneath.

Reed quickly untied her boots, chunks of dried dirt falling off with each tug, and shoved them beneath the coat. From her knapsack, she pulled out a black pair of boots that were much lighter and had not been cracked and tarnished by dust and dirt.

Harlem whimpered at her as she knelt to tie up the new boots.

"I'm sorry, buddy. You can't go up this time." She ran a hand through his soft fur.

She stood and yanked the knapsack onto her shoulders in a single motion. From the side pocket of her jacket, she pulled out a stick of jerky. Harlem's nose caught the scent and immediately he perked up.

Petting his head again, she offered him the jerky as compensation for leaving him behind. He wasted no time in working on the treat. Reed stepped out of the office as the dog's loud chews filled the room. It was time to make her way up.