Jhondie
It was a little awkward the next morning at breakfast. Justin and I were at opposite ends of the table. Not that I would have attacked him when he handed me the cereal (thank God there wasn't any fresh fruit on the table) but it was a little funny to have Justin's dad there watching us. Brit and Bryan finished in a gulp and then were off to do whatever it was that they did when there wasn't any school. Mr. Carter seemed to know what they were up to, but then who knew for sure. Those two sometimes came home smelling like dead hamsters. Don't ask how I know what that smells like.
"So, what do you two have planned for today?" Mr. Carter asked.
"I've got to go to the library to do some research," Justin answered smoothly. I was glad he said something. I had no idea how to get around saying that we were going to do some research for an Eye's Only hack. Mom was easy to deal with. I'd just tell her I needed to stretch out for a while and move around. She thought my constant restlessness had something to do with my genes. Justin glanced over at me. "You want to work on your Lit paper or hang around here?" He sounded so casual, like he didn't know I had finished that paper a few days ago.
"If I don't get that paper done by Sunday, Mom is going to kill me," I replied. I smiled. That wasn't hard at all. "I promised I wouldn't just play this weekend." ACK! Bad choice of words. Justin shot me a dirty look and Mr. Carter just concentrated on his cornflakes.
"Make sure you keep your pager on in case I need you to watch the twins tonight, if you don't mind," Mr. Carter said as he got up.
"No problem," Justin said, finishing his cereal. I wasn't quite done yet. Ladies do not wolf down their meal. Well, at least not their second bowl of cereal.
We headed out quickly after grabbing a couple of things from Justin's room. I've heard stories that before the Pulse, just about every non-retail business was closed the day after Thanksgiving. Now, everyone is open, including construction office headquarters. We still had some disks to get for the boss, and this was going to be our best chance.
There are only a few decent courier services left in the city. A couple of months ago, Justin came up with a slightly brilliant idea. Most of the couriers wore street clothes with a vest over it showing what company they worked for. If one were rather ingenious, they could conceivably imitate being a courier if they had a vest. Most people didn't ask questions when a courier showed up and announced they were here for a package. If that was the company they normally used, the package was in hand and signed for without question. Getting the vests was rather easy for one who doesn't mind a little B & E and borrowing one. . The companies never noticed a missing vest from their piled under the counter. They've come in handy on a few occasions since.
We had the name of the courier company that delivered the package to the main office, and as luck would have it, we had a vest of theirs as well. We went to the main office, a cushy high rise in downtown LA, and Justin waited for me. For some reason, people felt less threatened when a girl was making the pickup rather than a guy. I grabbed some gum, walked up to the counter blowing a big bubble, and waited for the receptionist to acknowledge me.
"May I help you?" she said hesitantly, giving me a "oh God I hate LA teenagers" look. It's a standard on transplants, especially when you are being stereotypical.
"Packages Express," I said, pointing to the patch on my vest, giving her my best "duh" look. "There was like a package delivered here the other day," I continued with a total valley girl accent. I consulted my clipboard with an excellent copy of a Packages Express ticket on it. "It's supposed to be picked up for delivery."
"Hold on," she said giving me another strange look. She got on the phone and tried to whisper quietly while I examined the pictures on the wall. Hey, look at the owner up there in his suit with the diamond tie clip. Gerhardt Bronk. He had the air of someone that the boss would be going after. Looked like a jerk at any rate.
"There's a courier here," the receptionist whispered. I bet she thought I couldn't hear her. "She's supposed to be picking up Mr. Hamlin's package that was delivered Wednesday." She listened for a moment. "No, sir, she doesn't look like that. She looks like a, well, airhead." She paused. "Yes, sir."
"Hold on just a moment," she said with a fake smile. Not a good sign. Being told to get out is better. I just wanted to know where the package was.
A man came out of the back. Not ol' Bronk from the wall, but he still had that air of needing to be nailed. He was probably up to no good. We'd have to find out later and bust him. His cologne also reeked. Why is it bad guys who can afford the good stuff like to use the worst smelling stuff they could get?
"You're here to pick up a package?" he asked snottily, not even bothering to introduce himself. I blinked at him.
"No," I replied with a saccharine smile. "I stole the vest and like to ride around and ask for packages. I just have really great luck and go to business that use PE." I sighed with annoyance, and looked at the scribble on the ticket. "We got a call from a…" I squinted at the writing. "M, or J, could be Q, whatever, Hamlin that a package needed to be picked up."
His jaw clinched. "There's no package to be picked up," he said coldly. Was there no package, or did he not want to mention it?
"Computer disks," I read. "They were brought here Wednesday, and like now they need to be picked up." I looked back at him. "Am I on some kind of TV show or something, because we got the call today, and I got like fifty runs to make."
"I think I should call Packages Express," he said with this "got you now" expression. "I would love to know why they sent two couriers in one day."
I raised an eyebrow at him. "Was it a guy or girl that picked it up?" I asked. "Because there's another Chris there, and he's always, you know, grabbing my runs up on the board since like they totally started paying us by the run." Stinky looked over at the receptionist.
"It was a young man," she replied. Whew! Guessed good. "He picked it up and was supposed to take it to the field site." Field? Back to the construction site? With the dogs and the mud? I hate my boss. I hate myself more because I knew I where I was going to be tonight. It was only morning though. I had to fight back a smile. As long as he wasn't overly exhausted…
"I guess there was a mistake," I said with an embarrassed little smile. "I guess two couriers are better than not getting one at all though. Sorry 'bout that." I turned and scurried away quickly back to the car. It was parked down the street in an alley between two abandoned buildings, so we didn't have to worry about a camera catching us.
I got into the car quickly. "Guess where we get to go tonight," I said, not hiding my disgust.
"Least we're prepared for the dogs," Justin replied with a smile. "The crew is probably there today, and I don't think we should try to courier angle twice."
I nodded. "A little genetically engineered knocking tonight might just be the best bet." He nodded in agreement. We looked at each other. It was going to be hours until dark. I never thought a norm could move faster than me. Justin's reaction time to flipping me into the backseat proved me wrong. I would have said something, but it just isn't polite to talk with your mouth full.
