The smell of rot made my head spin. I stumbled out on the other side of the trash heap in a half daze, needing a couple of seconds to shake away the dizzying stench.

In front of me was a hidden entryway for one of the high rises. The doors had been jammed to keep from sliding closed. Another sign someone lived here. I wondered if it was whoever was taking care of the girl. The hidden entrance led into a small hall whose walls were covered in wires and rusty metal panels. A technical tunnel of some sort, for utility purposes probably.

The hall was encased in smooth concrete, except for a window in the ceiling whose once thick glass had shattered years ago, into shimmering pebbles on the floor. Oddly, it was a strange reminder that this palace was, at one time, alive.

Surprisingly, the hall was free of trash and quite cool, providing a much needed relief from the sun. Pipes ran along the ceiling disappearing into the walls wherever they met them. I wonder what that’s for?

The hall split off in two directions, both leading further into the building, but neither one held an ounce of light within. It made me hesitate. Well, shit. I raised my sunglasses so I could see better. There were no signs where either direction led, and the dark was too intense to make anything out. Do I risk running into some cannibal's hideout?

Now the atmosphere here felt dim and foreboding. The thought of walking blind down either side made me shiver. Maybe I skip out on this one.

Strange enough too, I thought I heard sounds from deep inside the building. It was hard to tell, though, even if I listened closely. Most likely, it was nothing, probably paranoia, or noise echoing in from outside. The others were surely looking for me by n–

Suddenly, from the dark echoed quick approaching footsteps. Startled, I reached into my pocket, gripping the handle of my revolver. My heart stopped, however, when I saw the tip of a gun barrel poke out from the edge of the shadowy hall.

“Don’t move,” the blackest voice I ever heard ordered. I froze. Dead to rights, he could waste me if he wanted to.

Instead, a face I recognized stepped out from the dark. The man’s expression was grim, at first, before he realized who I was. Then the man relaxed, releasing the hammer of his pistol tenderly. He pointed his gun somewhere else. I let go of my revolver, but I didn’t forget where it was. That was our relationship.

The rugged man smiled.

“Heh, odd chance of this, Dreamer.” His hair was slick and black, hanging down below his shoulders in thick cascades. He wore a loose trench coat with black clothes underneath, probably to conceal various weapons and a bulletproof vest.

“Diego,” I replied curtly. This was a fat chance meeting. A person like Diego would never consider himself low enough to hang in the gutters of the border zone.

“Still hanging around in the sewers, huh?” He said with an oil slick smile.

“Still pretending you weren’t born in one?” He stuffed his pistol back into his jacket.

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“Say what you will, but LowDowns is a far cry from WarZone. There’s a difference between trash and the sewer, my friend. Funny I find you here, though, but I guess fate always has a way of correcting things.”

“You remember that when it comes your time.”

“Oh, I’m exactly where I need to be. If you had any sense, you’d follow my lead. Plenty of money to be made. What do you do these days? Still rip off dealers and wheel low-end pills?”

“Yeah,” I said, flatly.

“Some people never learn. You can’t make a profit when you’re dealing to yourself.”

“Yeah? And you’re doing better than me?” He cackled sickly, the sound like ice cracking over a lake.

“Much better. Actually, I’m on a grift as we speak. I’m headed to WarZone, on an escort tour for a pair of high rise yuppies. Pay's big.”

“Warzone? Why would anyone want to go there?”

“They want out of the city. Don’t know why. Don’t have to care. Say… I’m not used to throwing old dogs a bone, but a warboy like you would be perfect for this job. I bet you know all the ins and outs… Would make this job a breeze. What do you say to hopping on this gig with me? For what they’re paying, we’d split a pretty big brick… unless you got something better going on with your… crew.” He looked towards the alley past my shoulder.

A momentary shock passed through me, like I just realized I escaped death without knowing it, then a slight embarrassment slithered up my neck. Somehow, he had seen us. He’d seen Chuckles and the rest, and I hated that.

“No, I don’t think so.” It was more than petty rivalry that made me refuse. There was no price high enough that’d make me want to step one foot in WarZone.

“That’s a shame. With your knowledge, you’d have a blank checkbook.”

Diego then waved a hand at the shadowy hall behind him and two people stumbled out: a man and a woman wrapped in red robes up to their heads. They wore ratty clothes underneath, like nomads, but something wasn’t right about their appearance. The man’s face was too pale and smooth. I could tell what age he was too; he was in his forties. And the woman… she was the most gorgeous woman I had ever seen. Curly black hair pooled around her face and poured out the sides of her hood.

Her emerald eyes flashed at me with obvious concern before the man led her by the hand down the opposite hall.

“Well, I’d stay and chat, but time costs credit. See you around, Dreamer. Stay safe,” he mocked, turning and disappearing into the same shadow.

After he was gone, my nerves settled. What were the chances of that encounter… How long has it been since I’d seen Diego last? Too long to remember. Sighing, I turned back towards the trash filled alley and retraced my path. The route through the highrise wasn’t very enticing anymore.

Stumbling back over the trash heap, I made it back to the alley where I found Chuckles and the rest still fiddling with the young boy from earlier. They were beating on him pretty severely, each impact resounding with a meaty thud and a grunt. It was a mess of violence.

Surprisingly, the boy broke free despite the gang’s combined strength. He dashed away holding his nose tight with both hands a trail of liquid leaving his face through his fingers. He sprinted away down the alley, disappearing out of sight soon after. A couple of the boys chased after him, but without real intentions. They just liked the chase. Their scrambling feet echoed in the hollow spaces of the city.

I ambled up to Chuckles with my hands in my pockets. The idea of Diego’s offer still rolled around in my head. Who the hell would want to go to Warzone? Diego’s an idiot. Nothing’s worth that.

Chuckles was laughing at his friends as he wiped blood off his palms onto the knees of his pants. I grimaced at the sight. It made my stomach turn.

“Alright,” I interrupted, “I’m headed home.” I swiveled towards the street exit before turning sharply back to face those who’d remained. “And don’t follow me,” I said sternly. They didn’t.