The sound of flesh hitting wood caused Walker to shoot out of the bed like a marlin out of water. The sound was coming from the door that the chair was blocking. He grabbed the watch that laid on the nightstand beside him. His eyes widened and he strapped on the watch as he hopped out of bed. From the way his wallet bounced in his pocket he knew he couldn’t afford what was behind that door.

“Housekeeping,” shouted a gruff man.

“Uh huh,” Walker muttered as his hands frantically tied his shoes.

The door rattled on its hinges after a heavy thunk threatened to bring the door clean off its hinges. He threw his backpack over his shoulders and scurried to the only other noticeable exit in the room. The wind buffeted his face as he stared out the balcony. More voices joined the cacophony of noises behind Walker.

The balcony had a concrete bottom with steel railing on all sides. An identical balcony laid about twelve feet below him. In order to avoid the onslaught of room service behind the door, Walker had to make a reasonable and justifiable reaction to the situation at hand.

He quietly closed the doors behind him and swung himself over the railing to face the building. Hands trembling, he lowered himself off the edge, so he was hanging by only his hands. Unfortunately, the applied pressure to his bandaged hand was too much to handle and he slipped off the railing.

The second-floor balcony rushed toward his face, and he instinctively held out his arms to break the fall. Pain splintered and clawed its way up his left arm. He laid there for a few moments as he tried to take breath after breath to no avail. Multiple thick Russian accents shook Walker enough out of his stupor to have the brainpower to crawl over the balcony and fall into the bushes below.

Thorns dug into his skin and leaves tickled his face as Walker stared into the blue sky and wondered whether this was an overreaction to the present situation. Before he could come to a conclusion, burly hands gripped his legs and pulled him deeper into the bushes. Walker writhed in the iron grip to no avail.

“Stop moving,” whined a soprano voice in his ear.

His body seized, struggling against itself. The same accented voice from earlier announced above him, “Not in balcony Babooshka, must have leave earlier.”

Heavy steps receded above.

“No, I don’t know how chair got there, maybe he magician!?” cried the man.

More arguing ensued but the balcony doors must have been shut as he couldn’t hear anything more. He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Relief was short lived however because he was now in a bush with a surprisingly composed man who was holding him down. He instinctively clenched his butt-cheeks.

“Why are you in my bush?”

Enough sunlight poked through the leaves so that Walker could make out the figure below him. Smothered in cloth, with shades ranging from white, gray, blue, and black, was what he inferred to be a man. Walker deduced from how the branches cuddled him, he must’ve sunk to the middle of the bush. Since the shrouded man was below him, and the bush was only so high, Walker further extrapolated that the shrouded man had to be sitting on the ground hugging the bush.

“What?” he responded.

A clump of bandages, which Walker guessed was his head, cocked to the side before asking the same question.

“Trying to get away from the hotel staff… Why are you in a bush?” Walker asked incredulously.

The shrouded man looked away, almost embarrassed, “I’m going through some things.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

“Thank you.”

The noise of the bustle of the crowd filled the bush once more. “Do you think you can let me go?” Walker asked after fruitlessly trying to pull himself out of the man’s bear traps of hands.

“Hmm?” The man’s voice unfortunately rose another octave making Walker wince. If Walker had to describe the man’s unique voice, he would have blown up a balloon punched an opening, and slowly let the air out.

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“Okay,” finished the man, and just like that the bandaged hands that gripped him lost their heft. Judging by the way pushed through the bush, was something that looked like a de-stuffed stuffed animal. A deflated balloon. A used condom.

Walker sank through the remaining shrubbery and softly landed on the roots of the foliage. He ignored the throbbing in both arms and pushed away from the man until he sat firmly outside of the bush.

However, before Walker made his timely exit, he thanked the man for breaking his fall.

“Don’t mention it.” The bush rustled before responding, “Being helpful is so fun, smiles all around.”

Walker stood up, his face anything but a smile, secured his backpack, and promised the man that he wouldn’t before he calmly, but swiftly, made his way out the street. He let his left arm lie limp by his side as he brushed off the dirt and leaves that he could see.

ɸ

Sonya rolled her eyes at the barking voice coming out of her phone.

“I haven’t even left the building yet. How can I—”

She pulled the phone away from her ear to avoid the incessant shouting as she stepped into the street.

“What did you say he looked like again?” Sonya asked.

The sigh over the phone was worth the feigned ignorance.

“Dark hair… your age, almost 200 centimeter in height. Sonya, child, important men came-” Sonya dropped her arm and scanned the crowd.

While the description as vague, Sonya spent enough time with his descriptions to get what he was saying. Husky voices and slouched shoulders permeated the crowd as many milled around to hustle the illusion of rarities around them.

A meaty thump reverberated from above her.

A moan penetrated the air.

Since she worked in a hotel this wasn’t uncommon to hear through room walls. However, this wasn’t one hadn’t come from the throws of passion. She turned to look at the brick building behind her just in time to see a lanky body with rotting-wood hair, flying into rustling leaves.

She crouched and peered over the bushes that lined and separated the street from the small patch of wild foliage that hugged the building. Hushed voices escaped the thicket for several moments as the housekeepers searched the room above.

She raised the phone back to her ear.

“Without them we cannot operate business and most profitable days in close future-”

“He come from the third floor facing the street?” she interrupted.

“Aha, you found boy, yes?”

She opened her mouth, but before air could pass through the vocal folds and vibrate to produce sound the target of her search emerged from the bush.

“I promise I won’t tell anyone,” said the boy to the bush.

She frowned; bushes didn’t normally communicate with the sane.

The “boy” seemed coincidentally around her age, with a sinewy body that complemented his height. She unfortunately couldn’t see his face, nor the bush he was communicating with.

After his promise however, he trudged around the foliage and toward the street to reveal the bush. The moment he escaped her vision, she hopped the foliage to stand in front of the communicative bush.

Crouching low with a hand on one of her hostlers strapped to her leather belt she approached the rustling bush. Shadows danced within, and without hesitation she plunged her arm into the thorny bush to grab whatever loitered in front of the hotel.

Except…

There was only more bush.

She lifted the phone to her ear once more.

“Nope, no one here.”

“Have you not been listening? It doesn’t matter, we cleaned room. Be at work tonight to welcome VIPs.”

She stuffed the phone back in her pocket to stare at the bush.

After a few moments staring at the stout plant she crept out of the grassy area, identified the wood-colored-haired boy down the street, and began to follow him.

ɸ

While many shop booths were still up and running, fewer people roamed the street than the night before. Thus, Walker could identify the now-open stores the lined the street. After a few minutes he identified a coffee shop, entered, ordered a coffee, and sat down in a corner booth.

He gingerly slid off his backpack to examine his now swollen arm. As slow as he could he turned his palm towards himself. His throat seized up as he struggled to let the pain subside.

“Your coffee, sir,” said the barista as she slid a smoking cup of joe in front of him.

He bit his tongue to avoid lashing out at the woman and nodded in thanks. The coffee had a creamy texture that complemented the nutty aftertaste. After a few gulps, the pain in his wrist diffused to an annoying buzz.

He whipped out his phone and opened the Pavilion app for the first time since last night. Curious, he entered his profile that was unsurprisingly barren except for his name, future rank, and the status: PENDING.

He clicked on his rank which opened a tier system that ranged from the top, CLASS A1, to his rank, CLASS E3. Class E had some privileges such as accessing the board for tasks, but the true rewards seemed to come once you entered CLASS D and those qualified are able to access the pavilion’s auction house for government-restricted items as well as government access to certain areas of the globe.

As to why the government was providing these opportunities, Walker could only guess, but it had to benefit the United Regions in some way or another. Perhaps, it had something to do with the apparently shaky foreign affairs the U.R had. He would have to ask Chet another time.

He exited that section and opened the board section of the app to see a plethora of open tasks open to his rank. Some tasks were listed anonymously while others were actually provided by some notable companies in fields such as technology and pharmacology. One such task caught his eye and an idea sparked within him.

He drained the rest of his cup and strolled to the side of the counter to ask where the bathrooms were.

“Bathroom key provided with purchase.” The cashier side-eyed him. “Free showers are available at the Broward shelter near Archipelagos,” she added.

Walker rammed his hand into his pants pocket and ripped out a receipt to show the cashier.

“Key.”