Saving the World - Awakening

The Daily Grind

Eliot Green ran through an alley at a blinding speed, pursued by a very angry man. He clutched in his hand a coin purse and a key, two things he definitely should not have been holding. Weaving through the garbage cans, cardboard boxes and trash strewn about the street, he was pulling away from his pursuers. He chuckled to himself. He knew these streets better than anyone, especially a fat, lazy black market dealer.

As he reached the end of the alley, he jumped up on a ledge above him and scaled the wall up to the roof. He looked down from the top of the building at the man below, who was in no shape to climb up the building. The man looked up at him and scowled. Eliot waved the coin purse and key above tauntingly, and ran off on the rooftops.

The house he had chosen to climb was not necessarily unpleasant, but it was certainly not an especially appealing place. The buildings around weren't any better, some having chipped paint, broken bricks, and splatters of blood in some cases. The neighborhood of Islington was a hard place to live. Regardless, Eliot lived there.

As he dashed along the rooftops, he noticed the sun going down. He stopped to look at the sunset, and tucked the purse and the key inside the pouch at his hip. The sky was a bright orange, layered by the clouds and the remaining sunlight. It was beautiful.

He tore his eyes away from the ravishing sight and focused on his task. The drop from the house he was on top of was too far for him to jump, so he surveyed the area for a better way to get down. He saw a fire escape on the house directly in front of him, approximately four meters across from the roof he was on. After judging the distance, he readied himself for the jump.

Below, there were about ten people milling about in the alley. It was getting late, and especially in the summer, crime was the worst at night. Thus, people were clearing out for the nighttime crowd. Under the cover of darkness, unspeakable crimes were committed, and in Islington the police could only stop so much crime. The London Police wouldn't even come over, half due to fear, and half due to the futility of interfering with the culture of crime.

Eliot jumped across the gap between buildings and grabbed the fire escape. He grunted as his torso hit the metal painfully, but if he let go he would die from the fall. He groaned, but managed to secure a firm grip on the metal. He hauled himself over the railing and ran down the fire escape. He slid the ladder down and joined the small stream of people leaving the alley.

On his way home, Eliot saw his normal clients. People would pay well for thieves, and the younger or more skilled you were, the more business a thief got. Fortunately for Eliot, he was both. He casually knocked on the table of his most recent client.

"I've got your goods. Where's my pay?" Eliot asked.

The man turned around to face Eliot. His name was Greerson. He was obese, obviously not doing any of his own work in a long while. His face was shaven and clean, showing that he had a fair amount of money. Eliot had worked hard to get to this man's level. Greerson was the top dealer in the area, which meant that he paid very well.

"Let's see what you've got, mate."

Greerson held out his hands expectantly. Eliot brought the key and coin purse from his pouch and placed them on the table. He also withdrew an Arab-looking coin, a small, intricately carved golden dagger, and a raw diamond. He put his pouch back around his hip and watched expectantly as Greerson looked over his loot.

Greerson looked shocked for a moment, then seemed to regain his composure. "Well, a deal's a deal. Here's two hundred pound notes, like I promised." He handed Eliot two hundred pound notes, and with a wink, a fifty pound note. Eliot smirked and shook Greerson's hand. "Come back tomorrow for another job."