"Damn," the figure on the lone motorbike cursed softly as it
bounced over a pothole, nearly swerving out of control on the empty
road.
With some effort the rider got the bike to coast to a stop,
slowing at the top of a hill. The road all around there was broken and
cracked, the shops deserted and burned. The helmet was unstrapped and
set down on the body of the bike, revealing a young woman's face. Sandy
brown hair fell into blue eyes, a face that could be described more as
handsome than beautiful.
Her eyes narrowed, and without turning her head the woman garbed
in battered leather loudly said, "I know you're out there. Show
yourselves, please."
From the burned wreckage of a nearby building a man appeared,
carrying a shotgun. Beside him a younger woman stalked forward, her dark
brown fur helping her blend into the shadows. On top of a nearby
building a man appeared, stepping off the edge to delicately float to
the ground.
"What do you want, stranger?" the man with the shotgun asked,
carrying it with a weary sort of skill. He obviously knew how to use it,
and had no trouble with the idea.
"The name's Jack," she smiled slightly, "and I'm just passing
through here. No trouble meant and no offense taken."
"What town are you from?" the younger man demanded. "Not many
people travel around like this anymore," he added coldly, a hand
slipping into his pocket.
"I'm from Mission City." Jack said calmly, "on my way into
Vancouver on a courier job." She paused a beat, "So if you don't mind
I'll be moving on."
"Oh, I think we do mind," the furry girl moved in front of the
bike to block her way, looking dangerous as her fangs glinted in a
smile. "What are you transporting?" she asked.
"Nothing that's any business of yours," Jack said, keeping a
wary eye on the other two. "Let me pass," she said softly.
"Sorry to say you'll have to pay the poll," the older man hefted
the shotgun meaningfully. "Just pay up, and we'll let you go," he
shrugged.
"Can't do that," Jack said.
"I'm really sorry to hear that," the sneering young man suddenly
had a knife in his hands, pulling his arm back to throw.
Jack just dropped from the bike, smoothly rolling away while it
loudly clattered to the pavement. The knife whistled through the air
where she had been sitting even as she pulled the pistol out from her
jacket. She aimed, fired, and the first shot dropped the knife thrower
in a burst of blood, the boy's body falling to the floor.
"Not as sorry as I am," Jack looked around her cautiously,
staying on her knees.
"You hurt Mac!" the girl leapt on Jack, struggling to get the
gun away from her. Her fangs gleamed as she hissed down at Jack angrily,
a tail whipping into view.
'Claws," Jack noted as she barely avoided the gleaming blades,
then forcefully kicked the girl in the belly. As she wheezed for breath
Jack punched her twice, rocking the head back and forth until she
dropped out cold.
"You're not bad," the older man held the gun steady, watching
her warily as he kept a safe distance, "but I can still nail you."
"You're gambling," Jack said coldly, letting the cat-girl slip
to the ground.
"Oh?" the man looked at her curiously.
Jack straightened up and put her gun away, coolly sliding it
into the holster hidden beneath her black jacket. "You're gambling," she
repeated it calmly, "because you have no idea what my... gift may be.
You can hope it's something mild, but if you're wrong..." She trailed
off suggestively.
The older man gulped, looking towards his two comrades. The girl
was still out cold, and the boy's state remained unknown. "You could be
bluffing," he finally said.
Jack walked towards her bike, knowing that she was leaving her
back wide open. "You don't know that," she got her bike back up on to
it's wheels, grabbing her helmet onehandedly. Jack looked at him calmly,
"Pick up your people and choose another target. It'll be healthier."
The old man hesitated as she started up the bike, then he
lowered the gun. "Get out of here," he growled, "damn you."
"Thank you kindly," Jack said dryly, riding by him and then
speeding up on her trip down the hill. She waited for a final shot, but
nothing came.
A battered street sign she passed identified it as Hastings
Street, and she nodded slightly. If the old maps she had been given were
accurate this was a straight line route into the city, despite the
dangerous surroundings. This had been the bad part of town before the
darkness had come, and in the aftermath of fires and looting much of
this place had been abandoned.
"Except for the occasional bandits," Jack muttered to herself
softly.
Abandoned homes, businesses, and other structures lined the
road, stripped of all things valuable. The closer she got to the city
itself the more signs of habitation she saw, including some wary figures
sticking to the shadows.
'Obviously word of my run in with the three stooges has spread,'
Jack mused.
Around Commercial Drive was where the city really seemed to come
alive, buildings kept in good shape, people out on the streets
themselves. The docks to her right actually had a few ships offloading
supplies, wary guards spaced out to protect whatever was being shipped.
Wary eyes studied her as she rode on, coming to a stop around Hastings
and Main.
'The Chinatown enclave is near here,' Jack noted. According to
her source Hastings was still being considered neutral territory, but it
never hurt to be cautious. Keeping the engine noise down she continued
on, knowing she was being shadowed by someone.
"Hey, Jack," a woman's voice called.
Jack looked up to a nearby rooftop, blinking as she recognized
the figure standing there. She simply walked down the side of the wall,
then over to where Jack had stopped the bike. "Hi, Heather," Jack said
with a slight smile.
"Don't call me Heather," she threw back her glossy mane in a
dramatic gesture, "my new name is Jade Flower."
Jack just gave her a raised eyebrow, and after a moment both of
them broke into laughter. "Hows life in the enclave?" she asked her
curiously.
"We're dealing with the city a bit more," Heather said, her long
dress glinting in the sunlight. She smiled slightly, "The shogun still
feels that he owes you a debt from the last time you were in town, by
the way."
Jack made a face, "Well, I'm not going to argue with him about
it any more. Maybe I'll even stick around long enough to call the debt
due, this time."
"Good," Heather smiled. She tilted her head to the side, "Do you
have somewhere to stay?"
"The old place should be fine," Jack shrugged.
"I hope so," Heather shrugged. She noticed the pouch hanging on
the side of Jack's bike and stepped back, "Don't let me delay you,
courier."
"I'll see you later," Jack tossed a salute before riding off.
Jack took a moment to study the figures on Hastins as she rode
on. The people looked healthier, here in the core of the city, better
fed and taken care of. They moved with purposeful strides too and from
work, going into shops and businesses re-opened or rebuilt.
It almost looked like the old days, if you ignored the changes
that had been made in the people themselves. Fliers zipped above the
crowds, people bearing fur, scales and other changes strode onward, and
there was the occasional flash of power's glow in the group.
Jack smoothly turned on to Granville street, slowing as she went
up the street. Past the burnt out wreck of Pacific Center on her right,
across the street, then she stopped in front of the Hudson's Bay Company
building. An old fashioned structure it had survived the dark mostly
intact, becoming the headquarters of one of the more powerful figures in
the city.
Parking the bike was easy, then Jack looked around the figures
hanging around the entrance. "The bike's got a boobytrap," she cautioned
them with a smile, "I wouldn't recomend taking it."
The front doors were opened for her when she flashed her courier
tattoo, then she descended into the building itself. 'Looks like they
got power back on,' Jack noted as she descended the stairs, then turning
into one of the older stores itself. The place was partitioned off with
new walls and blankets, but she navigated unerringly to the back stairs.
Jack nodded to the muscular man who was standing guard by the
unmarked door. He looked her over then called out, "The courier's here."
"Send her in," the man within yelled.
Jack stepped by him, taking a moment to look the room she
entered over. The office was above the street level, all the windows
miraculously intact. There were a few pieces of pretty good furnature
inside, including the large the man within sat behind.
"Mister Mayor," Jack said formally. Bannon wasn't the only man
who was claiming the title, there were at least three that she knew of,
but it was always best to tread lightly. "From Mission city council,"
Jack pulled the sealed message tube from her courier's bag.
"Give it here," Bannon said eagerly.
"Payment on delivery," Jack reminded him. He scowled but Bannon
opened up a desk drawer, pulling out a pouch to give to Jack. She opened
the pouch, spilling the coins into her hand and frowned. "What is this?"
she slid the old style loonies back into the bag.
"We're reviving them," the Mayor smiled up at her from his seat,
"they are each worth one gold mark, more or less."
Jack thunked the bag back down on the desk, "Gold marks was the
agreed price, sir." She paused, "Do you really want to cross the
courier's guild, sir? It would be very inconvenient if we stopped
carrying your messages."
Bannon scowled, but produced another bag that he handed to Jack.
"Marks," he growled, "now give me my message."
Jack took the time to open the pouch, spilling out the coins to
confirm that they were real before passing the tube over, "Have a nice
day." With that she turned, walking out of the office and making her way
back downstairs.
Out front a man held a bloody hand to his chest, glaring at the
bike. "What the hell do you have on that thing?" he growled.
"I warned you," Jack shrugged before climbing up on the bike and
riding off.
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