Creeaakkk!

Metal gate scraping loudly interrupted Devon's irritated ramblings. He glanced up to glimpse someone emerging from the house's shadowy interior at last. What he saw surprised him.

Instead of some shady criminal figure, the person shuffling onto the flagstone path was an elderly man wearing slippers and faded pyjamas. He walked hunched over, supporting himself with a wooden cane. A scraggly mongrel dog stuck close by the man's shuffling feet.

As the figure and pet entered the morning sunlight, Devon observed the man's face was gaunt and deeply lined. His hair was wispy white strands resembling cobwebs. Clearly this Wendel fellow had endured lengthy hardship. Devon wondered why someone so elderly required early services from Killz’s crew.

The hobbling pensioner squinted toward loitering Devon curiously. "You must be the lad Killz sent over... cutting things a bit close to dawn though, eh son?" He spoke with a raspy voice resembling dry leaves skittering.

"Yes sir, apologies for the slight delay." Devon approached the iron gate while extending the metallic briefcase. "Morning traffic was busier than expected. But your delivery is secure and untouched."

Wendel's wrinkled face cracked a near toothless smile. "No harm done. My old bones move slower nowadays so I hardly noticed." Up close the former’s odour reminded Devon of his grandfather who enjoyed pungent tobacco. Wendel's milky right eye held a faint hint of cataracts but his left remained piercing blue. Together they watched Devon intently as he transferred the locked container into an awaiting grasp.

"Many thanks. And pass my satisfaction along to Killz for keeping an old soul happy." Slippered feet shuffled back towards the entrance with the prize in hand. Wendel's faithful hound briefly sniffed Devon's motorcycle boots before resuming its vigil. "That young scamp always comes through providing pick-me-ups for we retirees. Bless his scheming heart."

With the transaction completed amicably, Devon bid the peculiar client farewell then pedalled off to contact Killz. Such unconventional acquaintances hinted at the promise yet perils of pursuing truth inside the island's sprawling underworld. At least another delivery route was identified and tracked. Like knotted threads, each minor lead potentially unravelled greater tapestries when strategically pulled.

Soon Devon conferenced successfully to the gang lord, summarizing drop coordinates and client satisfaction. Killz sounded quite pleased. "Nice work tapping that early bird, youth! Old Wendel be one my best long-term buyers. Him pension shrivels these days so I offer quality stimulants and such that keep him budgets balanced." Laughter echoed from the phone. "I see potential for this partnership levelling up fast if yuh stay consistent!"

Despite unwholesome implications, Devon allowed hope at prying operational secrets in time through Killz’s growing trust. Each illegal trip was another layer peeled back from the island's vast narcotic infrastructure. So he swallowed silent objections and instead asked eagerly about further assignments transporting ‘relief packages’.

Killz readily provided multiple locations and contacts requiring fast servicing during these busy hours. Eager to impress the dealer, Devon deployed burst speed and agility blurring packages to recipients in minutes using shortcutting alleys and concealed bus routes. Through back roads and thickets, he tirelessly sped completing early orders for various Portland area hustlers while never probing wares exchanged.

Most interactions proved straightforward with residents who responded promptly and calmly to his arrivals. Rooftop exchanges, alleyway drop-offs and dead-end meetings all flowed easily thanks to his efficiency. Yet not every client behaved typically...

Vvvmmmm!

Devon rolled the motorcycle to stop along a half-paved road lined by leaning telephone poles. This rustic region had sparse amenities so locating correct addresses took effort. According to scribbled digits on a crumpled sticky note, his second and last delivery would be somewhere here in Tower Hill.

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"Hello?" Devon called uncertainly towards several faded houses with chipped paintwork that looked unfortunately familiar. "Package here for Miss Vee?" He squinted harder at nearly illegible handwriting. This contact had better dwell nearby or he was abandoning mission!

Farther along the dusty street emerged a cackling response. "Ohhh, Vee deh yah a wait pon yuh delivery sweetie! Come now, come now!" The playful shout drew Devon’s gaze leftward to a peeling picket fence encircling a small bungalow. Its roof needed repairs but quaint herb planters hung from the eaves. Was this the place?

Hesitant yet hopeful, Devon parked his bike and gathered a sizeable cooler labelled 'Chocolat Vibes' from storage saddlebags. Lugging the insulated container awkwardly towards the gaping gate, the hero in disguise made the best speed contending with uneven ground. Yard debris peppered his path, worn boots crushing dry leaves and fallen frangipani as Devon neared the beckoning resident.

Crossing onto a lopsided porch revealed the package recipient as a short bodacious woman with flowing black locks adorned by a vibrant bandana. Her curvy figure was barely restrained by a colourful blouse and form-fitting leggings. Multiple beaded necklaces and bangles swayed wildly as she waved excitedly.

"Yes me son, right over here so!" Her grin was broad and bright like the hot morning. "Lawd knows Miss Vee needs these sweet vitamins to keep going. Tings dry without my chocolate relaxants." She licked full lips eagerly. Something about this lady seemed oddly familiar but Devon couldn't quite place from where. Her flirtatious energy bordered on overwhelming.

"Delivery from Killz as requested, ma’am." Devon panted while hauling the hefty cooler onto the slanted porch. His dreadlocks clung damply against sweaty neck and temples. The day’s accumulating fatigue was catching up gradually. But duty pressed urgency regardless of personal limits. He shoved the insulated container forward insistently using boot toes, anxious to resume this risky route.

However, Miss Vee had other intentions it seemed...

"Ohhh mi back a suffer dreadful pains." She pouted while gripping her lower back theatrically, her blouse straining against her generous bust with the motion. Devon averted his gaze awkwardly. "Come tall man, help Miss Vee relax again nuh?"

With that, her dark hands grasped Devon's forearm tugging him insistently towards the home’s shadowy interior. He froze in surprise at the brazen gesture. Wait, was this lady attempting intimacy with a random delivery boy she just met?!

"Huh, what is this? No sah!" Devon blinked down at the buxom beauty practically clinging to his side with alarm. Things were escalating strangely without context! "Miss Vee, I’m just here to drop off yuh package outside..." He tried gently prying loose her considerable grip. "No time to kick back, more deliveries lined up..." Female curves pressed against his strapping frame.

"You so rude to drop off and run like that? A beautiful woman can't tempt yuh?" Miss Vee gazed up with mock affront. "Not even a few moments to come relax and catch up?" Her coy tone caused Devon more confusion. Did he know this flirtatious character from somewhere? She seemed convinced so.

"Sorry madam but duty have me parked idling too long already." With all gentlemanly care, Devon extracted himself fully from the homeowner's determined embrace. Her intimate way with strangers proved rather forward. But the present mission left no time for distractions.

"I appreciate your enthusiasm nonetheless," he finished diplomatically while readjusting his clothes and hurrying towards the idling bike. Its engine remained running prepared for swift departure once delivery finished processing. But Miss Vee followed still demanding his flexible attention instead.

"Aww yuh still acting all professional, mi boy?!" She grinned while swatting his shoulder playfully. "Always on the move like Road Runner. Some things never change!" Her laughter echoed merrily watching Devon fumble his bike helmet with one hand struggling to politely decline further hospitality. Whatever her assumptions about his identity, the hero remained intent on swift escape.

Lingering here flirting with overly friendly clients would only delay critical agenda. He had already allowed himself too many risky distractions last night drinking at Killz’s warehouse. Now focus must lock unbroken on the hunt through neon back channels.

Engaging sidestep manoeuvres barely kept the determined woman's hands from landing teasing pinches upon butt cheeks as Devon straddled his motorcycle. "Thank you again for yuh business, miss! Just remember to keep them Chocolat Vibes locked up proper from the pickney them." With that, he secured the helmet and spun the rear tyre furiously, spewing gravel in his wake.

"Lawd, yuh too much fi handle," Miss Vee's amused voice pursued Devon as he raced from the premises quicker than propriety allowed. She waved coquettishly by the front gate as her buxom figure faded into heat shimmer. What an incredibly strange and awkward interaction. Hopefully, no further deliveries involved such intimate assumptions from recipients. Some boundaries stood worth safeguarding.