Truth Stealers (Thief's Signal: Book 1)

2

Jag's eyelids were heavy, and he strained to hold them open. He was on his side, and something crusty itched his nose. He put a hand to it, and scratched. A few flakes of dried blood fell away.

Eurgh.

Jag looked to the floor. It wasn't all white and pristine like he thought it would be; instead, there were red smears wiped across a small part of it.

Double eurgh. I guess that's what happens when you have a nosebleed in your sleep.

Jag's right leg hurt. He must have slept on it funny, and as he started moving it, he got pins and needles. Little tiny pricks piercing his skin all at once.

He tried to shake it off, but his thigh still hurt. He reached down to scratch it, but his hand felt something that wasn't part of him. Jag slipped his hand into his pocket, and reached in, searching for something, anything. A wave of triumph lifted up his soul.

A wallet. Bloody score.

It was brown leather, with a few little holes in it, but none of them big enough for any coins or such like to drop through. He flicked eagerly through the notes, counting thirty three dollars and five cents. But that wasn't all: there was another compartment, and several thin sheets of paper and card lodged in between it. He fumbled for a moment, then slipped out a receipt. Walmart. Some groceries, toilet roll, nothing special. He pulled out another receipt behind that, this time from Randy's Brandy Store.

It appears I may be slightly fond of alcohol.
Maybe this headache is a hangover. No, that wouldn't explain why he was trapped in a bloody box, now would it?

He searched his wallet for more papers. There were three receipts left, and some sort of card in the back.

He pulled out the receipts, laying them on his lap. Two of them from Walmart again, with a list of average groceries. But the third was titled "Meta Mechanics Developmental".

The hell?

Jag read on: "full provisional license purchase, Terms and Conditions apply. Cash deposit - $725".

What what what!?

His head began hurting again. He felt dazed, and his vision started blurring for the second time.

No, not now. I was so close! What is this company? What did I buy from them?

He rubbed his temples, massaging his head.

He opened his eyes again, and the blurriness had receded. Jag looked slowly at the small sheet of paper in his hand. "Meta Mechanics Developmental".

What kind of license would they be selling? And what kind of man must I be to buy from them? And what in the bloody hells, is meta mechanics?

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