Grace Feckterhight

Chapter Two

The next day, I woke at 6 PM, with sunset about thirty minutes away. Plenty early enough to watch the sunset and prepare for tonight's adventure. Sytra called, right on time.

"Are you ready for your date?" she asked, excited for me. I laughed. "You have to stop calling it that." I sighed.

"Do you know what the assignment is?" she asked, slightly concerned. Our work could be considered dangerous.

"No," I sighed. "It'll be a surprise." I looked out towards the direction of the meeting place, surrounded by a darkening sky. "Dixter's.. not exactly the person that would turn down a dangerous job. He likes getting paid well."

"So it's a dangerous surprise date!!" She exclaimed, even more excited.

I laughed harder. "No! You have to stop saying that," I exclaimed. "I'm about to go. Wish me luck!" I said, knowing fully that luck wouldn't help. Not where we were going.

"Good luck!" she said with an off tone that suggested that she was thinking the same. We both knew that I was going somewhere very dangerous.

"Bye, Sy." I said with a note of uneasiness.

"Bye, Feck." She hung up.

I sighed. She only called me Feck when she wasn't happy with my choices. This time, I thought it was more the fact that she was scared. She wanted the "date" to go well, but she also really didn't want me to get hurt on the mission.

I climbed over buildings and scurried through alleyways, making it towards my weapon stash. I had needed to stay undercover for a mission two nights ago, so I'd left my grappler here. But I needed some other things for tonight.

I found what I was looking for: a small crate under some loose metal. The spot was perfect for hiding a stash. Concealment in an abandoned place. You couldn't ask for much more.

I pulled it out, looking things over. My grappling hook, or my grappler, was a well-made iron claw attached to special grappling-hook-specific wire. It was strong and could support my weight, but broke easily when I needed it to. I slipped the grappler's metal wristband on my right wrist, under my jacket sleeve. Next, I found my knife. The blade was long, silver, and sharp, perfect for a knife. It was my favorite one, my second knife. I strapped it to my thigh. Last but not least was my crossbow. It was metal, tight-strung, and foldable. Well-built. Great for the job. I tucked it away in an inside jacket pocket.

I left my other two weapons here, a short dagger and a small pistol. I didn't use them often. They weren't really my style, but I needed backups.

Prepared for the night, I stood up and got ready to move. The meeting place was a fair distance away, and I really shouldn't waste time. My jacket lifted as I raised my arm and closed one eye, focusing on a metal rod that was supporting part of a tall building. I aimed and fired my grappler, expertly capturing the pole. I pressed a small button, and was pulled towards it. I loved the feeling of the air whooshing past me. I grasped the support and reeled in the wire with a press of a button, the line zipping in obediently. I looked around for my next shot.

I traveled like this for a while, careful and alert. I slipped onto the roof a couple buildings over from the complexes, like he'd said. I sat down against a wall of concrete, sliding down it. Now, it was the waiting game.

It was midnight, as in I was an hour early. I would have been earlier, if only the commute time was less. Traveling around the city took effort and time, especially the way I did it.

To pass the time, I started humming quietly to myself. A sweet, high song that you probably wouldn't expect out of someone like me. I liked it; I found it soothing. Sometime later, I switched over to low and slow, my other go-to. I loved both equally, I sang them both well.