Part of me wanted to get out of the apartment and do something. So much had happened in the last couple of days it felt like I needed to be acting, but with the neighborhood the way it was I couldn't go far. Monica should be getting off the bus soon, and there was no way in hell I was letting her walk that gauntlet by myself.

I ran through a quick shower cause I was still covered with the funk of my morning run, then threw on jeans and a t-shirt before donning my new rune hoodie. Shitty armor was better than no armor. Fully dressed I headed back out to see if I could get a better read on the neighborhood.

I passed Mrs Garrison on the stairwell of the second floor and ended up helping her carry her groceries up ţo the fifth. She didn't ask me, as far as I know, Mrs Garrison didn't talk to anyone under 40. She just handed me the bags and kept toddering up the stairs expecting me to follow. She'd been doing the same thing since I was about 7 years old. And just like that very first time we happened to meet on the stairs, she collected her things and left me in the hall outside her door, then stepped back out and handed me a homemade cookie. Oatmeal raisin were the bomb, sugar cookies were terrible, and I would pay good money for the peanut butter chocolate chip. Not that she was receptive to feedback. This time I got snickerdoodles which were middle of the pack. She nodded at me and shut the door in my face before I could say thank you. I sighed and ate my cookie as I headed back down stairs.

I passed a couple of other folks I knew from the building on the way down, but managed to avoid getting pulled into another stent of indentured servitude. Once I finally hit the outside little front yard area I drifted over to lean against the wall kind of casually while I scoped things out to find someone to talk with.

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Reyes and some of his guys were over at the picnic table. They'd definitely know what was up, but that was way too stressful to try and join them. There were some younger folks shooting baskets in the lot, but nobody I really hung out with. The sounds of synth-rap caught my ear and I spotted some folks I knew gathered around a tricked out pickup with both doors open. That would work.

I drifted over to the cluster of folks by the truck and exchanged a couple of bro nods. Everybody kept talking and I stayed quiet so I could ear hustle. They were mostly talking about hacking the autodrive function so they could do burnouts in the parking lot.

I kept quiet nodding when appropriate and throwing in a 'fucking A' when it was warranted and soon enough the conversation shifted on its own. One of the guys had a cousin who'd seen some shit go down at Oakwood.

More and more details came out, probably about a third of it was bullshit but in the end the story was pretty clear. Some native guy had gotten super strength or something in the trials. Maybe a different power, but something. He'd parlayed that into a change of leadership in the Savage Boys, and that had led to an attempt to renegotiate percentages with the Latin Kings. Shit got crazy and a seat team qrf had showed up and started fucking everybody up. The body count was in the dozens, or just 1 guy or something in between depending on whose version was credible.

The trials were already destabilizing micro societies. I couldn't help but shudder when I considered how long it would take before nation states started feeling the same pressures.

I heard the squeal of air brakes out in the road and looked up to see my sister's bus come to a stop up at the corner.