Novels2Search

8 - Care Package

My vehicle slid to the stop on the dry dirt, barely out of the city limits. I popped the door open and stumbled out, hand and gun-arm rested against my thighs as I hunched over. Hot sweat dripped from my forehead onto the shadowed dust of the ground below me.

I was burning up something fierce.

Another tap at my stims and they were inert. Couldn’t tell whether I’d run them dry, or they were malfunctioning. A second tap at my nutrition cannister and it was empty. Dehydration gave a hint to why I had the heavy weight of a headache coming on. I stumbled back to sit on the edge of the front seat, and flipped my hand through the glove compartment.

No gloves in sight, but there was a fresh cannister. It might seem like I took my safety for granted, but I did try to be prepared. No clean stim pack, however - those things were more unstable and had to be stored properly. This can was one of the newer ones with sediment problems, but for a man with no mouth I’d take what I could get.

Old can out and chucked in the passenger footwell - wouldn’t be a good idea to litter and leave evidence lying about. Fresh one hissed as it popped in, my body convulsing as a needed chilling jolt ran through me. Almost broke the fever, but I needed some medical attention. Probably would have thrown up if I were capable. Small blessings.

I sat there for a minute, just focusing on my breathing and ignoring the thick fog trying to cloud my mind.

Eventually, a wave of whatever malady I had become cursed with started to seep away and give me a brief reprieve. Head was pounding now, despite the hydration working its way around my system.

It was likely I had internal bleeding, possibly damage to some organs. Served me right for being distracted. Stims could usually patch that kind of thing up, but they had clearly been left reeling from my rough week. My mattress was beckoning, but a glow of silver from my left wrist told me that sleep wasn’t on the cards for a while.

Item has been retrieved. Credits transferred, and there’s something waiting for you at Point C. Boss.

I was mostly glad he said something instead of someone. We had five pickup points on this side of the city, as there was too much security risk in having anyone drop things off at my house directly. Boss would switch them up - I assumed so that likewise, I couldn’t intercept the courier myself.

Point C was… back in the city by ten minutes. Clockwise again, near the north. Not too much of a detour, but it would extend the time shuffling about without pain relief. Worse to leave it idle to the next day, as I was sure I’d pass out as soon as I got home.

The door slapped shut, and the vehicle shuddered into doing my whim once more. Fresh beads of sweat ran down my head, my hair already drenched. All these layers weren’t helping, but I wasn’t about to strip down while driving. Partly because I was sure some of the fabric had fused to my slowly healing wound. The others reasons weren’t important.

With tired eyes, I made the necessary journey. The wave of streetlights pulsing over the vehicle, briefly illuminating the debris and decay within. Lulling me to sleep. I pushed my metal elbow into my wound, the brief spike of pain keeping me more alert. Uncomfortable.

But I wasn’t at risk of death, I was mostly sure.

I’d had a lot worse on a number of occasions. Boss had given up on trying to get me to wear something more practical. The nature of my work was turning up unexpectedly with gross firepower. Any situation where I was taking sustained damage was a failure on either the contract or my part to prepare for it. My track record spoke for itself. Currently alive.

Not that it would make the rest of the evening much fun.

The car slowed to a halt beside an alleyway. A quiet place behind some shuttered fast-food joints. As much as my eyes ached, I narrowed them down the road, and then behind me, before I opened up the door. Although the streets were usually empty at this time of the day, it paid to be cautious.

Out across the sidewalk, my right side cramped up as I walked. Into the darkness of the alley. Halfway in, turned behind the dumpster to see a group of worn cardboard boxes. One of them had a W scrawled in red ink. My gift.

Had some heft to it, but I was back in the car before I knew it. A deep breath that I had been holding whirring through my re-breather as I sunk into the seat. It could wait until I got home, but desperation for some relief had me running my thumb under the seal.

Ignored most of the boxes and cases within to pluck my salvation.

Three fresh stim packs.

At first, knowing that I hadn’t requested them could only mean that Boss expected me to need them soon. He did say things were about to pick up - but what could he know? Any further deliberation washed away as I awkwardly popped one of the fresh packs open.

Questions could wait for me to feel better.

Two short clips on my neck and I could remove the old stims - a prick of pain as I drew it away. Into the footwell on the other side of the car it went. I narrowed my eyes at the newer one in my hand. Unlike the cannisters, the stims were square shaped and aligned with eight pins that needed to poke into the right sockets. Getting the alignment wrong could fuck up the contacts and ruin the precious cargo.

Deep breath. Double checked and placed it in place. Some slight resistance that had me second-guessing… but then - there. A click and instant flooding of powerful nanites struck my system. Or whatever was in them. Right now, I was as far from caring as possible.

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I closed my eyes and sunk further into my seat, a warmth and calm radiating through my body. A slow exhale left my gas mask, and I felt… happy.

An irregular feeling shortly snapped away by the rapping of knuckles on my window.

Eyes jolted open, and I turned to the shaded figure. He leaned down to get a good view of me. A city cop. K. Brosnan, Nightwatch Division Three, his badge told me.

“You alright there, sir?” His eyebrows raised, taking in everything happening within my vehicle. “Not hooking up with anything illegal there, are you?”

I shook my head slowly.

He looked down, noticing the elephant in the room. A flashlight appeared in his hand to illuminate the large gun-arm. “Got a license for that?”

I nodded, equally as slowly.

While he clearly saw me as suspicious, he was rather calm. A tiredness in his brown eyes, and a youth to his face that could mean he was reasonably new to the force, but overworked. Slim face and short brown hair that was mostly hidden by the peaked hat of his uniform. It didn’t look as though he had spotted my injuries, but it was only a matter of time.

“No vocalizer, sir? I’ll need to see your vehicle and weapon augment license. Could you roll down your window?”

I stared at him blankly. While I felt elated that my pain was now nothing but a throbbing numbness, my brain tried to get me into gear. I needed a solution out of this.

Still had a chambered Tazer shot even if I had removed the mag prior. I had reloaded by reflex after dismantling the parking ticket, even if my intention was to be done for the evening. Wouldn’t have the force to pierce through the car door before electrifying the vehicle instead of the cop.

Didn’t care to murder him, even if it was the easiest solution. Not just because he was innocent, but also it would complicate my job exponentially. From what I knew, city cops had an alarm built into their uniform that put out an alert if they were sufficiently harmed.

My hand pressed at the button that would lower the window. A squeal rang out, and the pane shuddered with resentment as it tried to slide down. The cop tensed up, as he could see more of me and the contents of the vehicle.

“Nice and slow, sir.” Something was in his hand now, unclipped from his belt. “Licenses, please.”

I gestured over to the debris all over the passenger’s side, to indicate that they might be amongst all the trash. They definitely weren’t, but with his allowance, I had a few more seconds to think about my fate.

“If you can’t find them, we can run the digital tests. Might be quicker… and it looks like you should be seeking medical attention.” There was a sharpness to his voice now that cut through the air much easier than the Ghoul who gave me the current wound that the cop was no doubt staring at.

Leaning over had exposed the truth. If he was suspicious before, then by now he’d be close to calling in for backup.

My hand went into the new package from Boss. Other than the stims, there was the familiar case that had extra nutrition cannisters. Two smaller black cases that I daren’t open right now… and then, something familiar. Been a while, but the shape was unmistakable even if I couldn't see it.

Boss might be pissed that I’d have wasted one almost immediately, but the small care package had been something of a savior, and I was keen to continue that trend. The alternative was…

No, activating the EMP grenade would actually be a bigger headache than being caught. Still, my finger was already pressing the button, the catch released before the rest of my brain could fully understand the decision made.

Short beep and then a wave of screaming energy burst around us. The shockwave knocking me back into a seated position as the cop collapsed to the floor holding his ears.

Would have apologized if I could, but instead the ignition roared to life and I spun the vehicle away. This was one of the reasons I maintained the old guzzler rather than upgrading to a higher-tech mode of transport. It barely functioned on a good day, but didn’t care much for what got thrown in its way otherwise.

Despite the stims, I now had a throbbing headache again. Reasons were clear. EMP also shut off whatever parts of me used technology to function. Gun-arm hung limp on my lap as I drove, holding my breath until I could be sure that I had the strength to push it through the filters.

Dark specks started to flicker in my vision, but a glance in my rearview had the cop still laying on the ground, still moving. He’d be fine - discomfort for a day or two as whatever implants he had booted back up. My arm twitched as I started to regain control, and I took a deeply needed breath.

Now fully awake, I took the scenic route around a couple of blocks, waiting to see if pursuit would come. It seemed not, so I barreled forth toward the wastelands. Eyes twitched every time a streetlight washed over me.

Migraine cracking through my skull, and now even more exhausted. Into the darkness I rode, until muscle memory took my vehicle sliding into my drive. Box into my hands, I stepped out, aches vibrating through my chest. An eye over to Roxy, but all the lights were off. Figures, as it was still pretty late.

From this point till I was prone on my mattress, everything was a brief blur. Pretty much just unloaded everything and sunk into the floor as the stims hit me with a refreshed wash of painkilling bullshit.

Sleep then took me near instantly. No dreams. My body almost believed I could get some decent rest.

Then, a noise that woke me scraped through the part of my brain still tender. Eyes burned as I scowled at the wall. Hadn’t slept for long - I could feel my body crying out in exhaustion. The uncomfortable worm of adrenaline stopped me from grasping at what I desired.

Was it the super returning? No, too constant. Distant still.

My fist clenched closed as a vibration thrummed through my mattress. Something that reminded me of the helicopters from earlier this week. If I was about to get another unexpected neighbor, I might just load up and let them know in no uncertain terms that I wasn’t keen on the prospect.

Of course, where this differed was the noise was clearly ground-level.

I sat up and stretched my neck from side to side. An awkward movement given how stacked with various tech that part of me was. The tempting thought that it might just be someone inadvertently passing by was doomed to fail from the outset. Still dark out. Dawn had yet to even think about gracing the world with light. Fate had determined I was to be ground into dust now, having committed enough sins, perhaps.

My penance was to be dragged into continual migraine-inducing drama.

I was about sick of it, and close to introducing a zero-tolerance policy.

As the vibrations increased, I stood from the mattress and stepped over to my crates. With a deliberate methodology, I started to prepare in a manner that probably looked rather calm. Were I able to clench my jaw or seethe, then it’d perhaps show how angered I truly was.

Opened up the chamber and slid the solid metal bullet of a Sanguine stake inside. Then clipped in the drum full of mundane shot. I didn’t know what I was about to get myself into, but I wanted the first person I could pin the blame on for my interrupted sleep to be as dead as possible.

It was clearly motors now. Noisy ones, at that. A handful that I could make out from standing here inside my house. Closer and then… yes, they stopped just outside. Around the front of my home. Murmured voices as two or three engines cut out while the others continued to splutter and scratch at the insides of my skull. Aggravating.

I did not do well with migraines.

A burst of pre-show stims flooded through my veins and warmed me.

With a few short strides, I pushed open the door to see who was about to earn a tangible taste of my ire.