Neon Grave

Chapter 11 The Shifting City 2/2

They cut through an avenue that was banked with kiosk after kiosk. Interior streetside; its composite web hid the sun and gave the illusion of night. Grilled sausage filled the sinuses, marred by tobacco and mint. Mostly tobacco. On either side, merry vendors tried to peddle stolen goods, candy, and replica SMGs to every passerby. Cairo was a stone block to it all, leading Jessica, Shannon, and Valerie by example.

"This city is home to cyber junkies, nerd ragers, cowboys, and many sods after a quick penny. Be mindful, especially when it comes to strangers. Every gang is a neighborhood, and every neighborhood has eyes. Aggro Khans, Pitch, DevGuard, and The Apex, they control entire blocks. But even they know not to fuck with the Yakuza. Nobody fucks with the Yakuza."

"Are we on their turf right now?" asked Shannon.

"Aggro Khans."

"What do they do?"

"They shift Silk Road, a drug that makes shit taste like shrimp."

Shannon nearly gagged, but she saw the crap crackers that the homeless were chewing on the streets. "I can see why that'd be popular."

"They run this place and the next two blocks. The Apex have got the northern blocks under their thumb. Turf wars break every now and again, rarely outside the low tiers."

"You say that like we should be relieved," Jessica snarled. She noticed an armed officer covered head to toe in black, guarding holographic tape around a crime scene. And there lay a pair of bodies strewn on top of each other and a pool of dried blood. A drone was documenting the entire scene while two men in dusters and fedoras compared notes.

"What happened to them was tame," Cairo commented.

Across the murky corridor of urban life and death, a pizza stand cropped up. Their real destination was the bolted door behind it, the one with a sliding peephole. Cairo knocked once, waited, then knocked twice. A monocle slid into the peephole.

"What you want?" said a lady.

"It's Cairo." A few pedestrians looked away when Jessica caught them staring. "I've got three inspections lined up."

"Come through."

As soon as the door dislodged, Cairo led the way. The girls nervously surveyed nothing but a dim, blank room with a curiously low ceiling. Perhaps a meter and a half. A petite woman held the door. Closely, the pupil behind her monocle scrutinized Jessica and her friends. "Dis all you bring?" she barked.

"Aye," said Cairo.

Nodding. "Pass."

There was only one steel block: the big bad door inside of the small room, leading to the next room. Jessica straightened up beside Cairo as they waited. Nothing felt right, but that was to be expected.

"I feel like I should be grateful we got here in one peace," muttered Valerie.

Cairo was silent until the steel block began to convex, parting for the next room. It was eerily slow. "Whatever happens next, just take it," Cairo muttered.

Jessica's brow furrowed.

"Hands up, sheep!"Dozens of jackets lurched, shoving heavy carbines in their faces, black market models. A band of hoods groped Jessica, Valerie, and Shannon with boot camp tempo and carried them deep, deep into an indoor chasm. It was difficult to see anything aside from mounds of supplies and cubicles. There were many shadows crammed around a stockpile of crates,  maybe more lying in wait. It was one big dump with silhouettes wrapped under red light.

Who got the jump on them? Their kidnappers wore the specular light of gunmetal on their faces; facial implants looked like badges on the yellow uniform, shone between overhead lamps climbing high. So many of them were guarding the crates. Weapons, modular, came with tactical touchpads, scopes, and harpoons. These people were prepared for war.