7: Fast Track

Olivia closed the front door to her apartment once Skulker left as politely as she could, fighting the urge to slam it shut. She unclenched her feet, pulling the claws out from the carpet. As Skulker’s footsteps faded, she slumped against the wall. OK. He’s gone now. That wasn’t a disaster. Her stomach grumbled as she thought, What did I just agree to?

the last moments of sunlight or the day trickled in from the window. Olivia took a deep breath and pushed off the wall. Though she hadn’t noticed while talking, she was covered in a cold sweat. I think I smell kind of bad. I can’t use the bath here. She paced, the simple act of moving easing her tension. Her tail brushed against the old drapes she was using as blankets. They had been thrown halfway across the room when she’d woken up to Skulker’s knock. A few messy knots of hair drifted in front of her face as she remade her makeshift sheets on the couch. Now what? Her stomach rumbled, sending a jolt of pain through her.

She checked the donut box she’d bought that morning. She’d torn through them the moment she got back, leaving only two and some crumbs. They’re better than dumpster food. Her stomach still ached, even after finishing them off. I need more food. I always need more food. Maybe I should wait, though. Maybe I can look around in here. Didn’t Skulker say this place was haunted?

Her apartment on the fourth floor at least seemed lived in. Most of the dust had dissipated thanks to her keeping a window open, and the random stuff she’d gathered was scattered around. She began a more thorough check of the building. When she’d first woken up, she’d only given it a cursory look over. Contrary to what Skulker had said, the first two floors had very much been looted. A few rooms even had graffiti, though most looked faded.

Things changed on the third floor. In one of the rooms she’d overlooked before, she spotted a half looted apartment. A washer and dryer with 1983 printed on the side stood in the middle of the room, next to a partially rolled carpet. Half the carpet was still attached to the floor, as if someone had stopped pulling it up halfway through the job.

Is this weird? This seems weird. Why would anyone just leave a washer here, even if it is old? Could I use these? I need to clean my clothes. But wait, there’s no electricity in here. A washer and dryer probably need electricity. Right? That seems like something they would need. She moved on. Her own floor and fifth floor seemed completely unscathed, with random bits of old furniture scattered around. She climbed the stairs one last time to find herself on the roof.

I guess that’s the whole building. It doesn’t seem haunted. Now what? She sat at the edge of the roof to enjoy the feel of the breeze on her wings and the lack of weight on her feet. The city stretched on before her, a mass of twinkling lights and roaring engines. There’s so much stuff here. How far does the city go? She relaxed, stretching out her tail behind her. Where did I come from? I probably came from somewhere in this city, right? I couldn’t have just popped into being. Or could a superpower do that? She sighed, unwilling to delve further into the rabbit hole.

Well, Skulker was asking about the stuff from when I first woke up. Maybe I missed something down there. She spread her wings and hopped off the edge of the roof. She glided and pulled a sharp turn, heading for the alley in which she had first awoken during a rainstorm more than a week ago. To her left was the main door she used, a metal door that had buckled in the middle, featuring four long scratches from her claws. To her right was the dumpster her head had rested on. Beyond that, the alley was as nondescript as they came, the only notable feature being a pair of cracks in the concrete vaguely forming the shape of a dog.

The sheer amount of rot coming from the dumpster surprised her. Does this ever get emptied? It doesn’t look like it. Maybe there are some clues. She held her breath and forced herself to lean in, eyes watering as she surveyed the dumpster. I have no idea what I’m looking for. This is all just rotting trash.

She looked back at the six story building she called home, the tallest around for a block in any direction. The area seemed to mock her with a lack of answers. With little else to do, Olivia took flight. I haven’t gone towards all the really big buildings over there before. Maybe I can do that. Maybe there’s food there.

She flew in parallel to the mountains, heading towards the skyscrapers of the city’s center. The closer she got, the taller they seemed to loom, lights along their rooftops flickering on and off in some set pattern. What caught her eye was a strip of land devoid of any buildings. A park, empty of any people stretched on below her as she coasted down. Beside it stood an old looking building with a golden dome. Massive trees, many times larger than the ones she’d seen along sidewalks or in yards, grew all throughout.

Distracted, she failed to notice a handful of branches in the night sky. Her wing clipped them and folded, sending her spinning and plummeting towards the earth. No! With the ground fast approaching, she twisted herself face first towards the ground and spread her wings, catching the air once again. Trees are stupid. At least I didn’t hit the ground this time.

She coasted along. The inner city seemed much busier than the outskirts she was used to. Though the park seemed deserted, every street seemed to have people walking along it at any point. Between two skyscrapers, she caught a whiff of something that made her mouth water. That kind of smells like the burgers. Where is that. She followed her nose to the back of a butcher shop, but flashing lights between her and her target made her stop.

Around the corner, two cops stood beside a car pulled over on the side. One leaned against the car with a pad of paper in hand, saying something the driver. The light on top of the police car flashed red and blue, lighting up the whole area. She circled, weighing her options. I shouldn’t go near them. If they spot me they might shoot me. But the food smells good. They’re over here. The food is over there. I should be fine.

She coasted over the traffic stop and maneuvered through the nearby buildings, making sure to keep her wings from brushing up against the walls. A trash bag laying against the wall behind the butcher shop caught her eye immediately. There! It smelled better than anything she’d ever come across.

Olivia stopped when she overheard the police talking.

“You alright?” asked one police officer, the same one who’d spoken with the driver.

“I thought I saw something fly by,” his partner replied, his voice far deeper. “Something big.” What? Me?

“The feral?”

“Maybe.”

In the brief pause that followed, Olivia scrambled away from the trash bag, food forgotten. Oh no.

“No, it’s just the two of us. We’re not wandering after it alone. Call it in.”

A car door opened, and Olivia heard, “Dispatch, we may have spotted the feral, please advise.”

She took flight, bolting directly away from the cops. She looked over her shoulder a minute later. Sirens and flashing lights swarmed the area where she’d been. OK, that’s bad. I’m not going anywhere near the police ever again. Darn it, they looked up. People never look up before. With Skulker’s explanation of how he’d tracked her echoing in her ears, she circled in a wide arc around her apartment building, checking the streets for anyone who might have been following her. Only when the coast was clear did she land on the roof and head back to her apartment, the sun just beginning to rise on the horizon.

Her stomach convulsed as she headed down the steps. Her feet slipped, and she tumbled down the last pair of stairs Something burned the back of her throat. She spat to the side, willing her stomach to calm down. I needed that food. She struggled back to her feet and staggered the rest of the way to her couch.

***

Olivia woke the next evening to yet another knock on her door. “Hey! You ready?” called out a familiar, rapid voice. She cracked her eyes open and tumbled off the couch, ignoring the pain in her gut.

She opened the door to find a masked Skulker standing just outside, this time with the rifle slung over his shoulder. He looked up at her and said, “Wow, you OK? You look like shit.”

I shouldn’t bother him. “I’m OK. Just hungry,” she replied.

He gazed up at her for a moment. “Let’s grab somethin’ to eat first. We got some time. You got any preference?”

“I don’t know. Um, burgers?” Those smell good.

“Great! Follow me.”

“But I don’t have any money,” she said, eyes fixed on the floor.

“Don’t worry about it. Come on.”

Below her, Skulker teleported from rooftop to rooftop. It was strange to watch. One moment he was there, and the next he was simply gone. She followed him to a fast food restaurant, with its lights still on even at the late hour. She stopped on top of a short, squat building with a sign out front that read “Tax Law Firm” and waited as he went in. In a moment, he returned with a paper bag and handed her a fresh cheeseburger.

He had just sat down when his head whipped towards her. “God damn. Was that all in one bite?” he asked.

She looked down at the remaining half of a burger in her hands, wrapping paper in shreds around her claws. “Maybe.” I wasn’t paying attention.

“What have you been eatin’?”

“Just stuff. Stuff that I find.”

“Stuff,” he repeated. “Sure. I’ll get a bigger one next time.”

“Thank you.”

“Sure thing.” Once he’d finished, they headed towards the mountains. He brought them to a stop ten minutes later.

He pointed ahead. “This place been on my radar for a bit,” he said. “Never could figure out an easy way in on my own, but with the two of us this should be doable.”

A pair of men patrolled outside the rundown warehouse in front of them. They had no guns visible at first sight, until Olivia checked their belts and noticed strange gun shaped bulges at their hips or backsides. On the roof stood a man smoking a cigarette, a long rifle hidden behind the edge. They all have guns. What am I supposed to do?

“I have a question,” she said as she and Skulker observed from a few buildings away.

“You don’t gotta ask my permission. What?” he replied.

“Oh, sorry. Why me? What if I’m not good at this?”

“You got claws, wings, an’ are built like a tank,” he pointed out, pointing to her hands, wings, and chest in turn. “You’ll do fine. See those guys? They’re part of Sanchez’s gang. Now, Sanchez is a problem we’re gonna get to later, but the immediate problem is his guys are organized an’ well equipped. Never seen anythin’ like it before. My money is on outside help. From who, got no fuckin’ clue. Mexican Emperor springs to mind though, he’s been too quiet lately.”

“Sorry, what emperor?” asked Olivia. Did I hear that right?

“The Mexican one. Or Aztec, whatever. Who else?”

She blinked, thoroughly confused. “What was that about Aztec? I don’t think I know what you’re talking about.”

“Cuauhtémoc. The immortal god emperor of the Aztecs, sovereign of Mexico, an’ blah, blah, blah. We’ve had, like, three fuckin’ wars with him,” he stated, as if it were basic knowledge. “What did you think they had?”

“I don’t know. A president?” I’ve never thought about governments before. That seems right.

“No. We got a president. They got an emperor. He’s a dick.”

She hung her head and shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

“That’s the spirit!”

“Is he really a god?” she asked.

Skulker shrugged. “Dunno. He’s been around for hundreds of years or somethin’. He can’t be everywhere at once, though. But we’re gettin’ off track. The dicks in front of us kidnapped a kid, ten years old, for ransom.”

He pulled out his phone and pulled up a picture. A ten year old blond boy with a bowl cut grinned on the screen. He was missing a front tooth.

“This kid might be in there, might not. If he ain’t, well one of the guys in there might know somethin’ important. An’ if they don’t, they can tell us about somone who does. Make sense?”

“I think so.”

“Problem is, they’ve been keepin’ everythin’ real…” Skulker trailed off, looking off into the distance.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“No, tryin’ to think of the word,” he replied. “Compartmentalized! That’s it! They’ve each got their own little unit, an’ they don’t know too much about what goes on outside of it, besides broad strokes that anyone would know. They get paid well, though.”

“So what are we going to do?” she asked.

“See that guy on the roof?”

She nodded.

“Flatten him. Keep him from spottin’ me too early when I go up. I’ll take care of the two other guys. Once we get inside, I’ll lead the way, do any talkin’ if we need it. You just watch my back.”

“OK.”