Catch Me If You Can

Chapter 1 (Sammy)

Concept Art/Aesthetics:

Author's Art for Glitch:

http://nikarathedalek.deviantart.com/art/Concept-Art-Glitch-Updated-551798142

http://nikarathedalek.deviantart.com/art/Concept-art-Glitch-497326406

http://nikarathedalek.deviantart.com/art/Glitch-Concept-3-555988880?ga_submit_new=10%253A1440455213

Thank you so much for your support! Please enjoy.

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You don't get many nice nights in New Sacramento, but this was definitely one of them.

The ever-present smog overhead had finally parted, allowing a rare glimpse of the long-lost stars. A cool summer breeze swept through the streets, chilling the sweat on the back of my neck. There was nearly no light in the city, apart from the silver starlight and far-off window lights from the rich sector, but the eery shadows cast by the skyscrapers were strangely comforting that night.

I was also bored out of my freaking mind.

"They can't possibly still be in there," I groaned, burrowing my face into the crook of my elbow.

"Patience, grasshopper," was the prompt reply. The girl sitting beside me was tapping away furiously on a C-tablet, her eyes darting between the keyboard screen and the empty midnight streets at a dizzying rate. How she managed without a migraine is beyond me. "If Rome couldn't be built in a day, then plotting the world's end is going to take more than a few minutes. Besides, our target only has a couple of minutes left to be a free man; respect that."

I narrowed my eyelids at her suspiciously. "Turn off that tablet. They're going to see the screen lights."

The girl twisted to me, raising both her eyebrows in mock surprise. "From five hundred feet away? Through a concrete wall?"

"They'll come out soon." She only shrugged and continued with her frantic typing.

Not that I like to brag, but Marisol is probably one of the best hackers in New Sacramento, perhaps even in the whole state. She'd always been good with computers; even as a child, she'd spend her free time dismantling and reassembling old tablet drives, learning her way about the networks, etcetera. So while I mastered the art of stealth, to become invisible in a crowd and blend with shadows, Marisol learned to crack the most complex codes on the Web. 

A creak! echoed through the night, and the low hum of voices resonated along the streets. Marisol wordlessly switched off her tablet, and stuffed the small device into her pack. She moved precisely, studiously avoiding tangling the IV tub that ran from the backpack's side compartment to her wrist.

I leaned over to grip her shoulder. "Ready?" She nodded. "Go back to the van. Wait for my signal."

"Got your mic?" she whispered. I tapped the glue resting against my Adam's apple, barely visible under the shadow of my scarf. "Okay. See you soon."

Without another word, I placed my palm on the roof's edge and catapulted into the night air.

The sting of cold air stung my watering eyes, and my stomach leapt into my mouth as I hurtled towards the dark streets. My feet brushed the ground, and I mechanically folded myself into a roll, tumbling head over heels towards the open alleyway. My momentum brought me to a halt in the lip of its entrance, where I knelt, ears pricked for footsteps.

Crouching in shadow, I waited for my prey.

"Anything new from up top?" The whisper was barely audible from my end of the street; the target had to be just turning the corner of the block, seven hundred feet away. It was only thanks to the small chip nestled beside my eardrum that I could hear him at all.