The Eden Projects (EDITING)

Chapter 2. As Above...

Kasper gracelessly hopped a curb, knocking his chain out of place. He had done it so many times now. Life rarely veered out of the mundane. 

"Great." He peddled for a moment before stopping to fix it with spindly fingers quickly blackening from the gear grease that kept the thing running long past its expiration.

"Watcha doin'?" A girl's voice asked shrilly. 

She must live nearby.

He ignored her. Conversation was something he didn't enjoy. He quickly reset the chain. Just like Adam said. Don't get distracted. "Go bother someone else." Kasper was already annoyed.

"I see you go by all the time. You look lonely."

She's been watching me? "Go home. Before someone takes you—and don't talk to me again." He glanced around, ensuring Adam wasn't watching. If he had been, this girl would've been dead already. He left her on the sidewalk, her red dress a spot of innocent spilt blood on the pavement. Had she worn it for him? Do I still count as innocent? Despite it all, Kasper struggled with the weight of what he carried. I'm the Grim Reaper with tiny plastic baggies, constantly two steps from Heaven and one closer to Hell.

Just up the road gathered like sitting hens was a set of small stores and a garage, all clustered together in a heap of lead paint and chipping crown molding. They were all faded to a gnarly shade that nestled them uncannily between brown and gray, creating an unintentional palette that was as dreary as it was oddly comforting. This particular spot marked the only area of interest apart from the rundown strip mall. These stores and the garage were simply a passing point before The City, a brief stopover that provided a fleeting glimpse of what life might be like in the vibrant urban sprawl beyond. They served as a way to remind those coming and going of where they could be.

A sign hung bolted to a metal pole in the parking yard out front, it wasn't a lot, some many weeds had grown up through the cement that "yard" was the closest you could get in describing it. The sign swayed gently in the breeze. "RATSHACK" was written in bold red font, stark in contrast against the drab surroundings, followed by the silhouette of an angry-looking rodent with a black bandana tied around its neck. The sign glowed ever so slightly in the sunlight. Kasper doubted Adam would mind if he stopped in for just a minute. The doors were fully open, inviting him in, and he could see a freshly souped car propped up on jacks inside, its sleek lines and polished body pulled at him. Now deemed a classic to those inside the walls, it was definitely someone's prized possession. These cars were rusting petty trash in the Rim, remnants of a bygone era, but this one was different; it stood out. He pedaled to the front and entered the garage, hopping off and dropping the bike against the side of the corrugated building.

"YO! Kas, how's it hangin' my guy!" A man shot out from under the car as he shuffled in.

"Hey Zak."

"Scared the crap outta me." Zak rubbed his forehead depositing a band of black gunk across it. "Mind passing me that lug over there?"

Kasper thumbed through his red toolbox labeled "parts" that sat open on the counter. "Uhm this?"

"That's right" Zak held out a greasy hand. "Give it here." 

He passed it over and then took a seat on one of the boxes that had been pushed aside. Playing with the notched tail on his cap. 

"Whaddya think? Got this baby commissioned from inside the wall." A few years older than Kasper, Zak had developed a friendship with him that drifted them towards brotherhood. 

Although he could be a bit overly attached at times, Kasper realized he didn't really mind. In fact, there were many things about Zak that he appreciated. His persistence among them. He rose to stand.