vampviscera
Pilot C4-621
It was 11:52PM. Central Square.
The hour may have been late, but the city was more than alive.
A network of pedestrians crowded all the sidewalks in the downtown area with tall LED billboards polluting the night sky into a dim, smoky gray. It was too easy to slip into the no-face crowd, slipping between all the distracted people who were no more than drones on their smartphones, flicking through any social media app with an up-to-date timeline.
Nights like these made Lucas’ “job” easier.
Hood flipped up over his dark hair, face mask obscuring his face, with the most dark neutral palette of greys and blacks camouflaging him into the concrete jungle around him. He blended into the crowd like a grain of sand on the shore; one of an immemorial many.
In truth, it wasn’t one of his favorite outfits. Not the most comfortable, and definitely not anything signature to him. But, the gig he was on tonight forced him into something that can easily be discarded and low profile.
Rummaging around in his pocket, he pulled one of the many burner phones he owned. A contract-less Android with a manufactured SD-chip that robbed connection off of nearby towers. Not the most reliable piece of tech, but it served its simple purpose of keeping him in contact with his buyers.
On the view-screen appeared to be a website with generic stock images of items with prices listed next to each one. A random assortment of phones, jewelry, clothes, furniture, human parts-
Just kidding. Lucas wasn’t some big time crook. Not yet.
The last 3 hours he had spent jamming security radars to break into a shitty, franchise-chain jewelry store. Mall closed at 9PM and all the workers were gone by 9:13. All he needed was a handful of the gold and some of the pricey silver to sell back to his buyer.
On his back sat a Jansport black backpack with all the items crunching around inside. It was thickly padded and a sport’s brand, so it didn’t make much noise other than the occasional “clink” if he dropped off the curb too hard. Which happened more often than not, especially since he was hauling ass to get to the fancy side of the city. Where all the penthouses, Jacuzzis, and sportscars were.
Tonight’s buyer was particularly affluent (or, at least, they said that they were) and Lucas was just hurrying to get a cut of the money while the sun was down and no cameras could pick up his face. Though, he may have rushed far too fast, or maybe not fast enough?
Turning the corner, he saw the bright flash of red-and-blue. A singing chorus of walkie-talkies scratching on when their comm-lines open and bleeping off when the transmission ends. The so-call “rich bad man” he was supposed to sell to already had the police raiding his house! What a joke !
Hopefully before someone notices, Lucas tried to cut away unseen, praying no one caught the very suspicious entrance of him from between the lavishly cut bushes.
The hour may have been late, but the city was more than alive.
A network of pedestrians crowded all the sidewalks in the downtown area with tall LED billboards polluting the night sky into a dim, smoky gray. It was too easy to slip into the no-face crowd, slipping between all the distracted people who were no more than drones on their smartphones, flicking through any social media app with an up-to-date timeline.
Nights like these made Lucas’ “job” easier.
Hood flipped up over his dark hair, face mask obscuring his face, with the most dark neutral palette of greys and blacks camouflaging him into the concrete jungle around him. He blended into the crowd like a grain of sand on the shore; one of an immemorial many.
In truth, it wasn’t one of his favorite outfits. Not the most comfortable, and definitely not anything signature to him. But, the gig he was on tonight forced him into something that can easily be discarded and low profile.
Rummaging around in his pocket, he pulled one of the many burner phones he owned. A contract-less Android with a manufactured SD-chip that robbed connection off of nearby towers. Not the most reliable piece of tech, but it served its simple purpose of keeping him in contact with his buyers.
On the view-screen appeared to be a website with generic stock images of items with prices listed next to each one. A random assortment of phones, jewelry, clothes, furniture, human parts-
Just kidding. Lucas wasn’t some big time crook. Not yet.
The last 3 hours he had spent jamming security radars to break into a shitty, franchise-chain jewelry store. Mall closed at 9PM and all the workers were gone by 9:13. All he needed was a handful of the gold and some of the pricey silver to sell back to his buyer.
On his back sat a Jansport black backpack with all the items crunching around inside. It was thickly padded and a sport’s brand, so it didn’t make much noise other than the occasional “clink” if he dropped off the curb too hard. Which happened more often than not, especially since he was hauling ass to get to the fancy side of the city. Where all the penthouses, Jacuzzis, and sportscars were.
Tonight’s buyer was particularly affluent (or, at least, they said that they were) and Lucas was just hurrying to get a cut of the money while the sun was down and no cameras could pick up his face. Though, he may have rushed far too fast, or maybe not fast enough?
Turning the corner, he saw the bright flash of red-and-blue. A singing chorus of walkie-talkies scratching on when their comm-lines open and bleeping off when the transmission ends. The so-call “rich bad man” he was supposed to sell to already had the police raiding his house! What a joke !
Hopefully before someone notices, Lucas tried to cut away unseen, praying no one caught the very suspicious entrance of him from between the lavishly cut bushes.
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