Chapter 7: Answers

After my business with Nora was concluded, I excused myself from the shelter, saying I had a few errands to run before making my stay. Well, it was partially true. I had to get rid of the stolen van, before it could be linked back to me. I had already left a trail when I dumped Trevino's body back in the alleyway at Wheaten. So the next logical option was to dispose of the getaway vehicle.

Upon entering the van once more, I retrieved and reattached the gun holster to my chest, before racing off into the streets of Lower LA. Admittedly, I felt incredibly uneasy leaving Nora in the same building as the murdering genetic freak. But I didn't really have much of a choice. It would only be a matter of time until the LAPD or even worse Pegasus Horizons pieced together what happened at Wheaten. And they'd be hunting for me. At least the carnage left by the mech's would make things easier to cover my tracks.

Soon I was back on the Skyway, heading out to the outer sectors of Lower LA. I had to get out as far as possible, the law enforcement tended to keep a close watch on things in the inner sectors. But the further you got out, the law loosened it's grip. Not every act of vandalism or car jacking was followed up, or even reported for that matter. So a random van, seemingly belonging to nobody suddenly found charred beyond belief, would probably be written off as some punk's idea for a joke. It wasn't perfect and the risk was still pretty high, but I was low on options.

After an hour and a half drive I pulled off from the Skyway. Veering off before parking the van in one of the many shadowy underpasses that crisscrossed the decrepit area. The decay and urban blight here was enough to make your stomach roll, but that was nothing compared to the smell. Nothing flowed through this part of the city. Well excluding the software and drug trafficking... those were in great abundance out here. This was the place you'd end up if someone wanted to forget about you, when you were worth nothing more than trash. Because of this neglect, it was a perfect spot for the trading and bartering of flagged goods.

After checking the coast was clear, I locked the van doors, It never hurt to be too cautious. Unbuckling myself from the front seat, I slowly stepped around to the van's interior. Aside from the blood splatter, things hadn't changed from when Zheren's operation had began. I decided to investigate the desktop PC, located on the small work station where... where Trevino once sat.

I sat down before the wide LCD monitor, before pressing the button to power it on. I hissed and wiped my finger on the desk, bits of the fat man's brain matter had clung to the tower and keyboard. I sighed, It was never easy, killing someone. Leaving someone to fate's mercy was one thing, but actually being the one pulling the trigger was something else entirely.

I shook it off, 'what's done is done, no going back.' I thought solemnly, as the screen flashed to life.

I began browsing through the many directories on the operating system. Mostly skimming over the system files, they didn't hold much use to me. I was looking for something, anything that would give me some kind of clue leading to the identity of Zheren's benefactor and why they had hired him. Documents, records, anything like that. I needed to know who I was dealing with.

From my understanding Zheren wasn't really the type to cover his tracks very well. His portable PC was proof of that. It was how I learned that we were all working for this 'E' character, whoever that was.

'Wait...' I thought. 'His PC...'

I reached for my back pocket, but to my surprise, it was empty. Not even the white and orange key card from Wheaten was fitted snugly inside the fabric.

'Shit! I was sure I had it.' I thought, looking around the van frantically, padding down my remaining pockets. I still had the specialized cabling to hook my grid up with a mainframe computer, but no PC or key card to be found.

'What if it was stolen?!' A sudden panicked voice erupted in my head, pickpockets were a common occurrence in Lower LA, but I was usually so careful, how could I have let this happen?

With a heavy sigh, I wrote off Zheren's PC as a loss. To make matters worse, the device had a message addressed to Zheren from 'E', it had read: 'dossiers on a few individuals that may prove useful in breaching the facility.' And I'm not going to lie, that scared the shit out of me. It meant that not only did this 'E' character had access to an adequate amount of funding and technology, but they had information on all of Zheren's team. Zheren had even managed to contact me directly. And now all that information on me was floating around somewhere!

It was enough to worry about that I had potentially made a powerful enemy in betraying Zheren. I had a pretty good hunch, that whoever was pulling the strings, was also responsible for the Mech's at Wheaten.

'Were they really after the girl? All this trouble for her? Aside from her destructive physical properties, what else did she have to offer?' I pondered, my thoughts lingering around the mysterious she-devil. I calmed myself down and refocused, continuing my browsing through the directories of the machine. I inputted code after code into a fat client terminal rather than using the operating system itself, I'd be able to search for things much more efficiently that way. With a few input commands, I tried scouring the main server drive for anything that could be of use.

That's when I saw it, a hidden directory had been embedded inside the main drive. Arousing my suspicion I went to access it. With a few key strokes, the folder flashed up on the computer screen that simply read 'E'.

'At least he had the brains to hide it somewhat.' I thought, thoroughly unimpressed with Zheren's security measures.

Upon opening the file, I discovered a cache of documents and simple video files, again all with the same label, each with a date stamp. The first document was dated well over a couple of months ago.

'How long have they been planning this?' I pondered as I began to lower the volume to the speakers, unsure what to expect from one of the video files. I moved my cursor over it and with the click of a button, the video played.

The monitor displayed a dingy cramped room, It looked like it was filmed in a basement. Sitting on the monitor before me was a stern faced looking Zheren. He held a bottle of cheap wine in one hand and held his forehead with the other.

"Just who the hell have I gotten myself in bed with?" The depiction of the long dead Zheren said, before taking a swig of his bottle.

"Make an easy buck they said, tch... easy buck. I'm in too deep now, I should've jumped ship ages ago. The damn money was too good. If I try and walk away now, I may as well be wrapping my lips around a gun." He said grimly.

He rose the bottle to his lips again before taking another swig. He sighed deeply, "I just need to get through this, play along... then when the moment is right, make a break for it. Take the money and the tech and run. I gotta be careful though, 'E' seems to have eyes and ears everywhere. That bastard has a information network that seems to span the whole city." The grubby man scoffed.

"What really shits me is I've never met him. It's bad enough entering a partnership with someone you don't know... But not even meetin' him face to face..." Zheren shook his head.

"...stupid... "

The man sat in quiet contemplation for a moment before speaking again.

"Well, since he's keeping an eye on me... I may as well do the same. See if I can't find a way to work this in my favor. If I can expose him. Find out who he really is... well, things might just turn around for me."

The video abruptly stopped, and I slowly leaned back in my chair. 'So Zheren wasn't lying after all... he was just a pawn to this 'E' guy...' I thought, stroking my chin. I decided the best course of action would be to copy the directory and wipe the original drive. I'd scour the rest of the information later.

Unfortunately I didn't have anything to copy it with. I had my Ink Circuit, but thinking back to when Yoitsu nearly cooked my insides with it, I'd rather not use it for a while. I began looting the van, rifling through the metal boxes and containers that had been stowed away.

Zheren had definitely over prepared for this mission, there was at least another three crates full of unused ammunition. I helped myself to what I needed, swiping a handful of magazines to replenish my stock after the raid on Wheaten.

'The slimy bastard owed me that much.' I snorted.

Aside from the spare ammunition, was an abundance of connection cables, fuel canisters and even a box of matches... all of which I intended to make use of...

However, I was lucky, I pulled out a compact silvery briefcase. When I opened it a sleek black laptop lay before me. It was an older model, outdated by at least a few years, but I was going to take what I could get at this point. I booted it up, despite it's sleek cutting edge aesthetic, the processor inside ran like granite. After running it's boot up sequence I had a quick snoop through it's files. It looked like it was intended to be a back up PC, most likely for Zheren's operation. Regardless, I'd take whatever I could get. After hooking the laptop up with the PC, I transferred Zheren's documentations and video logs. With a quick check of the PC's drives and finding nothing of use, it was time to cover tracks.

Disconnecting the laptop and placing it back into it's silver briefcase, sealing it shut with a small click, I checked outside once again to satisfy my paranoia. The underpass was still empty. I got to work, taking the briefcase I moved to the back of the van and opened the rear doors. Once I had a good air circulation going, I retrieved one of the petrol cans. I shook it and judging from the weight, it was full. Without a second thought, I began dousing the floor of the van in petrol. The pugnent fumes rose up and I scrunched my nose, but I kept pouring, splashing it all over the computer tower and monitor, the screen flickered as the liquid doused it.

Slowly I moved back to the vans opening, grabbing the box of matches and pocketing them in my retreat. I retrieved the silver briefcase, and left the van. Before leaving I made sure to dump the rest of the petrol into the back, it had to be thick enough to carry the flames. Once I was at a reasonable distance, I threw the now empty can away and squatted by the van's opening, staring at the petrol that pooled on the floor. As I reached for the matches in my pocket I began to have my doubts, this would attract attention but the evidence of my crimes were contained within that van. And I couldn't exactly hand it over to someone or just abandon it, sooner or later the van would be linked back to me in someway. If I left the scene quick enough. I can deny I was ever there. This was my best shot, even though the risk of getting caught was great.

I struck a match and my silver eyes glowed, illuminated by the solitary flame that burned in the darkness of the underpass. With a flick, I let the match fall. The ardent flame of the match collided with the dark pooled liquid and ignited it. I shielded my face and backed away as the interior of the van was engulfed in flame. I felt the heat radiating from the gold and amber flames and quickly turned my back to the inferno. Silver briefcase in hand I left the underpass, setting a brisk pace as I walked, never looking back. I hoped that the flames would be hot enough to burn away my transgressions.

After leaving the underpass on foot, I found myself among the tight, crowded streets of Lower LA. As I was merely dressed in a light t-shirt I quickly headed to the nearest alleyway, fearful that someone would recognize the markings on my arm. The filthy alley was brimming with all kinds of trash. However, as the saying goes, one man's trash was another man's treasure. Almost everything got thrown away into alleys like this, electronics, food, clothing. It was a treasure trove for the poor and the desperate, I fell into at least one of those categories... hell... maybe even both.

However, as I moved past a rusty dumpster, my eyes fell upon a body that was pressed up in a ball against it's cold metal surface. It was a man, probably somewhere between his early forties, late thirties. A big bushy beard matted with dirt hid most of his face. He was dressed in ragged clothing, a patchwork jacket being the first thing that caught my eye. In his cold clammy hands was an empty spirit bottle, wrapped in a brown paper bag. I crouched down beside the nameless corpse, noticing the small stash of empty pill bottles surrounding the man's bare feet. Picking up one of the white bottles I read the label, it was medicinal grade morphine. I came to the conclusion that he overdosed and passed away shortly after. Flies buzzed around his head and neck, his stench masked by the trash that surrounded him. As far as I could tell, he'd been dead for no longer than twenty four hours.

Even though the man was long dead, I still felt a pang of sympathy for him. He was just another victim of circumstance. He had tossed his lot in with the game of life and this is where it lead him. Dead in the gutter, with nothing but empty bottles and pill canisters. Out of sight and out of mind, with no one to morn him. I began to wonder whether I'd end up like this. Dead in a ditch somewhere, forgotten.

'Would I be forgotten like him?' I thought, before an image of Nora flashed in my mind.

Nora... if only this sorry sap had come to her... she would have been able to help him... perhaps even save him. She's saved my skin more times then I could count. Given me some kind of stability in my gambit against life. I wondered how she was fairing, starting to worry again about leaving her alone with the wolf.

I pushed it out of my mind, before refocusing on the cadaver.

"Sorry about this..." I said softly reaching for my back pocket and retrieving the box of matches.

"But this is all I've got to offer in exchange..." I admitted solemnly, placing the small box before the dead man's feet.

I began undressing the man of his patchwork jacket. When I noticed the strong skin discoloration on the left side of his face and shoulder. And upon awkwardly struggling, shaking and tugging the patchwork jacket free from the corpse, my eyes widened in horrid enlightenment.

The left side of his body had been effected by some kind of accelerated necrosis. His left shoulder and neck were withered and wrinkled, with a dark green skin discoloration, large chunks of flesh were missing from the affected area. I took a few steps back away from the corpse, my mouth slowly falling open. It looked like the man's flesh had been replaced with that of a sickly reptile. The patchwork jacket rustled in my now trembling hands. Was it some kind of infection or disease? I couldn't say... but I wasn't going to risk contracting it.

My eyes slowly moved down to the jacket before I let it slip out of my hand and onto the filthy alley floor below. Without rational thought, I ran from the pale man, seeking to get as much distance away from him and me as possible. I stood by the entrance of the alley, using the nearby wall to steady myself.

I looked at my hand that had touched the dead man's coat.

It was covered with grime and stunk of petrol.

'I really need a shower...' I thought as the sound of emergency sirens blared in the distance, a dark column of smoke rose high into the overcast sky.

It took me a little longer than expected, but I finally managed to return to Sector Five. I walked along the near barren streets, speckles of rain trickling down around me as I walked. I huddled inside my new jacket, that I had 'acquired' through some skillful distraction and slight of hand techniques. It wasn't made from the finest materials, just simple cloth, the street peddler would probably never miss it. But it was more than enough to conceal the weapon I was carrying and the markings on my right arm. I tightly gripped the briefcase as I walked, It would probably be the only computer I'd be using for a while and by no means did I want to lose it.

Soon, the baptist shelter came into view, my nearly two hour long journey was coming to a close. Since the hour was so late, the door was locked from the inside. From memory, there was a buzzer in which to contact the local Shepard after hours. Although considering I still had a room key, I figured I would let myself in. Fumbling with the keys for a moment, I managed to insert the small key and turn it. With a click, I opened the wooden door, I then realized Nora had forgotten to put the chain latch back on.

I sighed, 'Honestly, that girl can be a ditz sometimes.'

The lights inside the lobby were dimmed, I figured Nora must've gone to bed. So I closed the door as quietly as I could, locking the door and latching it behind me. To my relief, the place was in the same state as I had left. No wolves had rampaged through here. I heard a soft murmuring noise off to the left of me and I quickly turned to see Nora, fast asleep.

She slept in an old lounge chair, just behind the mahogany bench. She was wrapped up in a ghastly floral print blanket. Even though the colours had faded with age, the thing looked hideous. Yet Nora slumbered peacefully, blissfully unaware of my entry. I couldn't help but smile, she was probably exhausted from running the shelter all day. She had a bed of her own, but she camped by the door just in case some weary straggler came knocking late at night.

She was a good soul, an honest soul. Someone who shouldn't exist in a world like this. Yet there she was, living proof that I was wrong. That was the kind of girl Nora was.

Proof that I was wrong.

I began heading for the staircase, crossing the floor of the lobby as softly as possible. It's then I realized I was being watched by Nora's faithful and ever devoted companion Enek. The automaton sheep dog was lying in a curled up ball by the counter, keeping a close eye on Nora and the lobby while the shepherdess slept. From time to time, I was worried for Nora's safety. Taking care of an entire baptist shelter by yourself was far from being an easy job. It was enough relief to know that Enek would be around to protect her. The dog fixed me with a pair of gleaming eyes that gleamed in the darkness.

"It's been a while, so I'll give you a check up soon. Ok?" I whispered, trying not to wake Nora from her slumber.

The dog blinked once, before watching me ascend the old staircase and disappear as I reached the second floor. I headed to room twenty five, deciding I'd check up on the wolf.

'God, I hope she hasn't trashed the place.' I thought, starting to worry what I would find.

I knocked on the door, hoping it would get her attention.

"Hey, I'm back. I just wanted to check up on you..." I said in a hushed voice.

No response.

"Look, I'm coming in alright?"

Again no response.

I placed the key in the lock, remembering to jiggle it slightly before the latch gave way.

I opened the door, It was quiet inside. Nothing stirred.

I crept through the door, my silver eyes scanning the darkness.

'The door was still locked... so she had to be in here... somewhere.'

I felt my heart hammering in my chest, even now I was afraid of her.

I checked the bed, the one where I had seen her last. It was a mess, sheets had been tossed about and crumpled, as if someone had been rolling around in them. And my hooded jacket lay tossed aside on the mattress.

"Where the hell could she be?" I murmured to myself, turning to search the rest of the room.

My eyes suddenly locked with two crimson irises that blazed in the darkness.

Before I even had the chance to scream, I felt a delicate hand shove me square in the chest, causing me to stumble backwards and fall. I dropped the briefcase in surprise landing on the floor with a clatter.

I felt winded as my back hit the soft mattress. Suddenly I felt something leap onto my chest, pinning me to the bed. In the darkness of the room I could only make out two gleaming eyes and a playful childlike grin.

Before I could even get a word out, to verbally lash out at her for scaring the shit out of me.

I felt a single finger tap against my forehead.

"Kraft Lawrence. Age twenty five. Height one hundred and seventy eight centimeters. Weight sixty kilograms. Blood type AB positive..." A refined, playful voice trill from the darkness.

My eyes widened, my jaw going slack.

"Born and raised in Sector Nineteen. Attended Trenni Elementary until the age of twelve, expelled and apprenticed as a net-runner to a local firm. Apprenticeship lasted four years before going freelance for another two years. Hired on as a network security analyst for Pegasus Horizons and later charged with several cases of fraud and corporate espionage. Has been working as an underground Data Miner for the past three years..." she paused for a moment before leaning in, far too close for comfort.

My eyes adjusted to the dark to clearly see Zheren's palmtop computer being twiddled betwixt the fingers of the smirking wolf girl.

"... is that all correct?" She mused in a mocking tone.