Bleeding like Clockwork

Criminal Life

I scramble through the shadows, my leather-clad feet tapping lightly across the dirt-covered ground. Little clouds of dust puff up where I step, like tiny explosions, destroying miniature worlds...  I squat down in a shaded alcove, tucking an unruly strand of dark brown hair behind an ear. Running grimy hands over my torn, faded pants, my eyes flick from one market-goer to the next.
Which of these wealthy ladies will lose a necklace today? Which grand gentleman his rings? It isn't as if they'll miss it. They're so damn rich they could buy a new one on the fly and their bank account wouldn't suffer in the slightest. Well, most of them.
Finally, my eyes alight on a gentleman's pocket watch, a ray of sun turning it into a gleam of brilliant gold. I sneak closer, edging towards the mouth of the alley. I wait for a moment, when his back is turned away, and dart into the crowd. I mingle in the street, joining the raucous groups that bustle here and there. I sidle up to a fruit vendor, and while he's busy chatting with an extremely busty young woman, I pocket an apple. I also nab two Sustibars from the stall next door, and grab a packet of enriched beef jerky from across the way. All too easy.

I spot the man with the fancy watch, and lean forward, trying to see it more clearly. A smile nudges it's way across my lips. That is one good-looking piece of jewelry.  Gears are engraved into the gold of the watch, each intricate circle inlaid with copper. In the center of the largest gear, a diamond is embedded in the watch. It shimmers as it catches the light, and I can barely believe that someone would just carry around a piece as precious and expensive as this. I creep towards the man, hugging the curb, so ready to get my hands on the watch.
And I feel it. A warm drop of liquid lands on my shoulder, sliding down my back. No, I think, as drizzles of red fall and stain my shirt crimson. Not now. But it doesn't stop. Of course not. Blood drips into my hair, my clothes, my boots, everywhere. It covers me, drenching me in scarlet. I shield my eyes against the downpour and squint up into the sky. Sure enough, a gaping pink slit cuts through the azure blue of the sky. Blood cascades down from it, landing on shops, houses, the people of New London. But no one seems to notice. No one except me. The wall I lean heavily on starts to crumble, aging thousands of years in mere minutes, stone turning to dust beneath my fingertips. 

NO! This is not real! I chorus over and over in my head, but the blood won't stop falling, the city won't stop coming apart, and the metallic taste of iron in my mouth won't go away. I shut my eyes tightly, like a child banishing the remnants of a nightmare, and open them, pleading for it all to be gone, to be just a dream.

It's gone. 

I breath a sigh of relief, and sit down, my back against the no-longer-crumbling wall. I softly frisk my body, making sure that I'm not sticky with gore, and rub my eyelids furiously. Through blurry vision, I spot the man with the splendid watch, the one I was going to steal earlier, and my heart leaps. Maybe I can make some good of this day! But then I see the woman on his arm, dressed in a sunbeam-yellow gown. Her porcelain hands brush across the pearl choker that encloses her perfect throat, her laugh, high and sweet, filling the air. Filthy rich, no doubt. And in the ownership of a very good-looking set of bracelets. Not to mention that necklace...
The man pauses, swallowing nervously.
Suddenly, he falls to one knee, and speaks. His words are so eloquent, so full of passion and devotion. He speaks of how he loves the woman, Trina, and how he would follow her forever. If only she will accept his love, he will faithfully stand by her till he dies. He whips the watch from his pocket and with a light touch, plucks the diamond from the surface, revealing  it to be set in an elaborate gold band. He holds it out to her, to Trina, offering her the perfect golden ring, and she cries out with joy. She pledges her love to him, telling him how happy she is, how long she has waited for this day. Onlookers applaud as he fits the ring onto her finger, her delicate, ivory finger, stand up, and kisses her soundly on the lips. They remain locked in each other's embrace as I slink away back into the alley. Suddenly, I don't feel like stealing today.

                                                                 ***

I slip back through a maze of side streets and tunnels, weaving past hobos and fellow thieves. I am in no mood to have my purse cut, even if all it contains is a couple Sustibars, dried beef and an apple. And even if it's not technically a purse. In less than a half hour, I reach an abandoned tunnel. The concrete walls, stained with graffiti and mud, echo my footsteps back and forth, creating a hollow cacophony of sound.
At the middle of the tunnel, I kneel down and, with a glance over my shoulder, draw a thin knife from my boot. I slide it carefully into slit in the copper of a hatch base and rotate it in a full turn to the right. The screech and whine of metal against assaults my ears as the wheel pops up from it's base. I grab it tightly with both hands and turn it, throwing as much weight into it as I can. The smooth, cool metal soothes the rough skin of my palms into my palms as I wrench the wheel around. Finally, finally, the old wheel turns. It begins to spin wildly, going round and round in endless circles, like a metal dog chasing it's tail.
Suddenly, it halts, coming to a complete stop and the hatch swings open, revealing a dark, damp pipe. I begin to crawl through it, pausing to cuss as my bag gets stuck on the hinge. Yanking it free, I shut the hatch, enclosing myself in complete darkness. I inch through the grimy tube, the hems of my pants dragging annoyingly behind me. Slowly, light begins to fill the tunnel, illuminating it with a pale glow. The mouth of the pipe appears, becoming bigger as I crawl toward it. With a deft twist, I leap out of the pipe, somersaulting through the air the land heavily on my feet. I stand from my crouch, blowing a strand of hair from my face, to applause. 

"Nice!" laughs a high, yet rich voice. "This time, you didn't land on your head!" 

"Oh, shut up, Lizbeth." I mutter "Like you could even try to do that."
She giggles, tossing her silvery hair, and jumps off the enormous gear she had been perched on. She performs a flawless double flip before landing perfectly on her toes and giving a delicate curtsy. 

"Show-off." I grunt, slinging my bag over my shoulder and setting it down on the tool-ridden worktable. " Hey, you might be athletic and good with engines and all that, but don't you forget that I'm the one who brings home the bacon." I unbutton the worn leather and pluck out the apple, dried beef and Sustibars. I dangle them in front of her, taunting her with the smell of salt and sugar and fruity sweetness. Lizbeth grabs for them but I pull them back just in time. I throw the apple up into the air, catching it in one hand and taking a big mouthful. "MMmmmm..." I sigh. "Delicious. Too bad you can't have it." I know, I know, it's immature, but I can't help myself. Teasing Lizbeth is so much fun, especially because she's pretty, and strong, and... basically everything I'm not. It's nice rubbing it in her face that I'm the one who keeps us alive. But I love her. She's basically my family. So I hand her the apple and give her a smile. When the world is ending, the slightest kindness makes all the difference.