Sam woke to an ear piercing whistle. Well, he woke up for the second time that is. It’s a bit of a morning ritual he had devised to get a few extra minutes of sleep. He’d wake up, start heating some water in a kettle then go back to bed until the water is ready. It’s quite the efficient use of his time. At least he thought so.

He rolled out of bed and threw on a pair of pants. A forest green with plenty of pockets on either leg. He was pretty certain he’d only worn them a couple times since they were last washed so they should be fine. He lived in a small studio apartment so it only took him a couple steps to reach the stove where the kettle was whistling. He did have to weave around a couple piles of dirty clothes but he managed.

After rescuing the screaming kettle from the clutches of his favorite burner (front left) he grabbed a tea bag from the top cupboard. He poured some of the hot water into a small mug and dipped the tea bag in. He set the mug down to cool then turned his attention to a small arrangement of plants on the fire escape.

Before heading out to check on them he grabbed an unopened box of granola bars from off the counter and pulled one out. He found them about a week or so back while on a scav run. They were sealed so he figured he’d be alright as long as he didn’t eat all of them at once.

Breakfast secured, he moved over to the sink and filled a small jug of water. He didn’t have the largest water budget but he figured giving a little to some plants wouldn’t kill him. He unlatched the kitchen window and stepped out with the jug of water.

Metal under his bare feet strained a little but it settled after he was all the way out. The smells of bread and filth filled his nose. It was a nice smell if you knew which ones to ignore. That could be the motto for Credence honestly. Having a place right above the market street has its pros and cons. One of the pros being access to a fire escape. Sure it was rusted and barely bolted in on one side but it made for a great porch. It also made for a great place to store plants.

Four pots sit in front of him evenly spaced on the side of the fire escape facing the street. There was a pot with a small bramble bush, one with poison ivy, another with what looked like tiny sunflowers, and finally one with grass. It wasn’t the best arrangement of plants but they were his, picked up on runs and planted here. 13 made him stop after the fourth one saying it was “a waste of time and resources.” Oh well. The way Sam looked at it there was no point in having the resources if you’re not going to enjoy life with them.

“Okay Tim, time to drink up.” Sam said as he poured a portion of the water jug into the pot with the bramble bush.

Tim, Timothy, Jim, and Jimothy were great names. That’s what Anya says at least, she named them. Sam had no issue with the names, he honestly didn’t think he could come up with anything better.

Plants watered and stomach full of a probably okay granola bar Sam chugged down his still hot tea taking a moment between sips to let his tongue cool off. He threw on a shirt and jacket before heading out the door. There was a meeting with 13 and the others later but he had a few things he wanted to get done first.

The market street or The Canyon as everyone calls it was packed as per usual. Whoever decided to take the skinniest street in town and put up a bunch of merchant tents along it should have been exiled the moment they suggested it. That wasn't exactly the case. Sam wasn’t even born yet when the survivors just kinda started putting up tents and called it a market.

The smells of food being prepared for a day of selling mostly overtook the perpetually dirty nature of the place. It's only natural to get a foul smell when this many people were piled up on top of one another. People of all ages, race, and gender filled the street. Mostly vendors at this hour but there were still a good amount of customers. Some of the best bakers in Credence set up temporary shops here in the morning, so it was not surprising to see plenty of people line up for a morning pastry.

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The crowds never seemed to bother Sam. Mostly because they usually gave him a wide berth when they noticed him coming their way. He’s tried to explain that he’s not contagious or anything but they still keep their distance. They don’t know any better, they just don’t understand. That’s what his mother used to say anyway. The mutters of “Bleeder” and “unnatural” didn’t exactly help though.

It’s not like he was that much different from a normal Pulser. He had their markings; blue veins in the wrist that shone through the skin with each heartbeat. Though Pulsers didn’t have the red eyes that marked a Bleeder. The curly red hair didn’t exactly keep him stay off the radar either. Still, they acted like he was a complete alien. Some might even describe him as a demon.

Keeping his head high, Sam made his way through The Canyon with a smile. Some people waved or asked how his morning was. Some were more like four or five out of the hundreds there. Still it was nice to know that he did have some people that he could look to. One of those very people was coming up right at the end of this street.

Rinzo, even in the early hours, had somehow managed to gather a crowd around his tent. A group of about ten onlookers stared up in wonder as he continued his routine standing on his front counter.

“Look now my friends as I carefully remove the innards of this device.” Rinzo waited a moment while holding what looked like a small box with a black hole in the center. He crouched low while holding the box out before slowly coming to a full stand just as a small white square popped out of the bottom. He had the whole crowd leaning in as he carefully plucked the white square and held it for a moment.

“And here we have it. The fruits of our labor these past few minutes.” He flipped the white square around to the crowd. The opposite side had a white border around a smaller darker square. The crowd was silent for a moment before one of them gasped. The dark square was beginning to bleed into color. Before long a picture of the crowd was fully visible in Rinzo’s hand. The amusement of the crowd died almost instantly.

“That’s just a picture.” One man blurted out.

“We waited all that time just for this?” another person shouted.

“No no this isn’t just a picture, friends.” Rinzo defended after stuttering for a moment. “It is antique, no other camera like this in all of Wonderland.”

“Why would we ever use that? It’s so slow.” One man said as he pulled something out of his pocket. “Here if you want a picture.” A flash went off from a small device in his hand. Sam recognized it as an old salvaged smartphone.

They didn’t used to have a reason to keep relics of the past like that. That was until Credence reinstated a local cellular tower to be able to work within a small range. Some people kept them for the camera or old games they found on them. After the tower went up they became almost as wide use as the historians tell us they were before The Disconnect.

Clearly at a loss for words, Rinzo goes quiet for a moment. Then he seemed to notice something. That something just so happened to be Sam. A smile crept across Rinzo’s face as he lifted the old camera back up in a triumphant display.

“Yes, yes… But can your camera summon devils!” He ended that sentence by gesturing towards Sam at the back of the crowd. The word devil was a bit louder than Sam thought was necessary.

Sam sighed as just about everyone in a block radius looked his way. With an awkward wave he squeaked out a “Hi everyone” while keeping his head down.

The people closest to him stepped away instinctively. Some with a grimace but most just looked surprised. Sam looked up, causing most gawkers to look away and pretend they were doing something else. He preferred that reaction to the ones that just starred.

The momentary shock died down fairly quickly and the crowd began to disperse. A few half-hearted pleas from Rinzo trying to sell his salvaged camera died as soon as they came out. Soon everyone was gone, back to their morning routine, show over.

Rinzo stepped down off his counter with a chuckle. “You like that one? Really thought it would work.”

He was an older man than Sam, somewhere close to his fifties. No one really knew exactly how old he was. Short, almost buzzed graying hair, dark tanned skin with plenty of stress wrinkles.

“I think you could have sold the devil summoning part a little more honestly.” Sam retorted through a smile.

They met each other with a hug a few steps out from Rinzos shop. “Good to see you back kid! You haven’t been by in a while, how’d the run go?”

“Well, seeing that it’s been about a week and a half since I saw you last, I'm guessing you can figure it out.” Sam chuckled.

Rinzo smiled and gestured towards his shop. “Well come on in kid, I’ve got something to show you.” He took a few steps towards the side of his shop with an arm over Sam’s shoulder. “What was it this time? Was it bad? Stingrays haven’t gotten you yet have they? Always wondered what that one felt like.”