Chapter Three

Human Contact

-

The roof of the Kost Mart was not among Shepard's favourite places to relax, but she was sick of everywhere else. It was interesting, if a little depressing, to be able to look over the edges and see all the people going about their business. Jackie the singing tramp had taken up residence just across the street from her lately, and he seemed to be doing pretty good business. The sight of him made her want to share her good fortune. She still wasn't close to running out of food from the shelves and the stockroom and she had more than enough roof over her head. But of course, it didn't work like that in Glendale. Shepard knew that if she let Jackie or anyone else know about the Mart, it would be converted into a crowded shanty town by nightfall.

Sometimes Shepard considered begging. Being young and female, she ought to make some good money. She could pull a cute face if need be. But it would be dishonest. She only needed money for water and electricity. Perhaps once the preserved food started to run out, she would beg. Or maybe that would be a good reason to leave. Though she was reluctant to ever sacrifice the Mart, a street corner or empty doorway in a new city would at least give her something new to look at.

Shrugging off the thoughts, Shepard sucked back another mouthful of gin and lay down. The air was pretty thin today so it was almost like sunbathing. As her eyes closed she felt uncomfortable and rolled over onto her left side. Having slept on the floor last night, she had a little ache in her right side and she was still pretty tired.

She stood. If she was going to fall asleep in the day it ought to be on a bed, or else she'd just hurt both of her sides. Jackie's singing was getting to annoy her anyway. Once the lid was screwed back onto the bottle and then the bottle secured in her waistband, she took a few steps. When she reached the edge of the roof she went through the familiar motions of shuffling down with her right hand gripping the tiles, swinging around and kicking the corrugated iron sheet out of the way. As she moved to leap through the window, she lost her grip and started to fall.

Without so much as a raised eyebrow the sinewy girl forced her fingers into a small gap in the mortar and stretched out her other palm to balance her against the wall behind her. She emitted a short breath as she climbed back up and pulled herself gently into the Kost Mart's utility room. Shepard viewed it as a sort of cloakroom, and she had left her jacket there that morning.

Pulling her drink from her shorts she ambled out of the room and into her bedroom. It had once been a manager's office, but Shepard had gutted it long ago to make space for a bed. She had managed to find one broken in half at a city dump a few miles away. Fixing it had been a very simple endeavour and had occupied her for a couple of days. The mattress was hard but the right size, and it had felt nice to obtain something without resorting to theft. The bed wasn't ideal but it was hers, and it easily beat the sleeping bags and dirty pavements she had once been used to.

Lying down on her good side and pulling the sheets over herself, Shepard gave in to complete comfort. After thinking about it briefly, she decided she hadn't the energy to kick off her boots or her shorts and just closed her eyes.

Only one problem. The lights were on in the bedroom and the main hall. If she was going to sleep in the daytime, she sure wasn't going to waste her electricity. Those fifty credits would last a solid month or more if she was careful with them. She knew she wouldn't sleep if she was wasting power. Pulling away the warm, soft covers, she yawned. Her legs were the first over the edge. Then an arm steadied her body against the high desk. At this, she grew bored of her slow, complaining ascent and just stood up. She decided she might as well hit the main light switch panel outside the living room.

After opening the door she made a few steps across, listening to the unnecessary clangs as her rubber soles hit the floor. They chimed in a dull, monotonous rhythm, like a clock ticking.

Clang, clang, clang.

Clap!

The last noise took her by surprise and halted her, mid-stride. It had come from another room. Maybe the hall. Going completely silent, she waited to hear it again.

Clop!

Close enough. It was certain, then. Somebody else was inside the Kost Mart, and having a jolly, carefree time making noises in the hall. Shepard froze for a moment. She hated meeting people. People were her big weakness. And more importantly, someone had discovered the Kost Mart. She ran.

Finally arriving in the main food hall, she initially saw nothing unusual. Now though she could hear a shopping cart being pushed around the aisles to her right. It sounded heavy too. Either it was full or the intruder had no experience of pushing shopping carts. After vaulting a checkout to save time, Shepard resumed her chase. Her heart beat hard and loud in a way she hadn't felt in years. Momentarily she considered stopping to catch her breath, but then she reached the cans of good sweetcorn. Some of them were missing and others were not straight. Without bothering to breathe she followed the sound of the cart. It had stopped moving now; whoever was behind it was waiting for her to find him.

It suddenly occurred to her that she might have to fight. The sort of person who would climb a wall to break into someone's home might be dangerous. And in Glendale, dangerous meant lethal. She was unarmed and had no idea what do say or do when she found the corn thief. She panicked, but the momentum of her run was too much for her to stop before she reached the cart.

Finally, breathing heavily and pushing her hands against the clean shelves as she slowed, Shepard came to a halt in front of a young man with a white, tailored shirt, a lot of thin, silver rings and a gun.

His eyes were a deep chocolate brown. They were calmly handsome and would have grabbed Shepard's attention immediately, were it not for the thick and carefully shaped hair. It was dyed dark blue.

"Not very subtle," he said simply. "I heard you running the whole time." He was smiling just a little, as if he were trying not to. It looked friendly.

Still reeling from the sight of another person in her market, Shepard could think of nothing to say. She was not yet ready to react to the gun or the familiar face. Someone was inside the main hall.

"Not very subtle yesterday, either. I saw you falling on your face tryin' to dodge a security door. Followed you here."

"Hmn," she said. She was furious with herself.

"Yeah, I walk past this market maybe three times a week. I never figured to try to move in." The gun lowered a few inches, pointing at the girl's stomach. Shepard knew a little about guns. This was a good one. A Kessler, but better than the standard military issue. It was a moot point though. Any gun could put a bullet through her thin blouse and into her body, and no-one would hear the shot here in the Kost Mart.

"So, what?" the man asked, looking around as if he had just arrived. "You live here? Pretty sweet. Got all the crap, dry-frozen food you want, huh?" He laughed. "I've eaten worse, I guess. Huh." It was then that Shepard adjusted to the shock and looked down at the trolley. There was a lot of sweetcorn in there, but a lot more booze. The alcohol shelves had been left better-stocked than most when the supermarket had been closed and abandoned and she had always enjoyed the large supply of drink. It looked like the interloper was taking a good third of it.

"You don't say much, sweetness."

"No," Shepard answered, trying very hard not to appear like a victim. Pistols had been aimed at her before, but never by someone who was likely to pull the trigger. She steadied her voice, ignoring the rising panic. "Yeah, I live here. Found it three years ago." She paused and selected one of the many questions she had for him. "Why did you follow me?"

The gunman extended his thin bottom lip as he considered it. "Well, couple of reasons. You looked kinda capable, for one. Kinda pretty, too. Guess I was right to follow you, though. Got me a nice stash of alcoholic beverages. Maybe you'd like to share some with me…?"

The tall man moved forward with great confidence and allowed the gun to slip a little more. Shepard figured if it went off now it would only hit her foot. When she felt his hot palm moving too smoothly across her cheek she made a snap decision and struck his right wrist. The attack landed well and another convinced him to drop the gun. She followed this up with a punch to his tough belly and a good kick which landed sadly south of its destination, but seemed to hurt his thigh plenty.

When he was done swearing, the injured man pulled a knife and made it to Shepard before she could reach the gun on the floor.

"You're not that pretty," he said in laboured breaths. "But it looks like you can handle yourself, huh? Good for a little more than picking alien pockets."

The knife was close to her neck but it was obviously just intended to keep her still. Shepard could feel her arms shaking with terror as she considered what she had just done and what she had avoided. Her body became cold. Again she blanked-out the thoughts and stared the man down. She nodded. It was true; she had learned to fight a long time ago. This particular success had more to do with luck and adrenaline than skill, but she decided not to tell him so.

The knife retracted and the man retrieved his gun. He now made sure to stand a little further back and kept the gun aimed loosely at the girl's midsection. "Now," he said, fiddling with one of his rings. "Don't worry. I just decided you're not my type. Maybe's you're a little shy about human contact. Fear of commitment and whatnot. But here's why you're going to apologise for hitting me. How much do you know about the Tenth Street Reds?"

Shepard's lips pursed a little. The Reds were well-known as one of the newer, more ambitious gangs in Glendale. They had risen quickly. The only people who knew more than that were either members, rich addicts or very foolish.

"I know enough to stay away from Tenth Street," she replied, trying to sound cool. He laughed a little and waved the gun in a circle, encouraging her. Without hesitation she said, "I'm sorry I hit you." The humility probably saved her from a bullet wound, or at least a beating. Her face felt numb.

"That's better. Now we can get introduced. What do they call you? What do your many local neighbourhood customers call you when they come over here for their dried groceries?"

"Shepard."

"Right," the man scoffed. "Got yourself some kind of street nickname, huh?" He lowered his voice for mock dramatic effect as he said the name back. "Shepherd! You think you're some kind of big leader? Is that about it?"

The girl shook her head and explained that it was just her name. The jocular tone left the other for a moment and his face turned hard as diamond.

"Well mine's Jay," he said in a gravelly, natural voice. "The Reds call me Blue Jay." The gun temporarily pointed at his beard. Shepard kept quiet, but wondered why he hadn't chosen to dye his hair the more appropriate colour of red. Her face must have betrayed her, because his nose crinkled up a bit. Were it not for the gun, she might have found his embarrassment quite sweet.

"We don't wear colour-coded outfits, Bo Peep! We don't call ourselves Reds for the colours we wear. For Christ's sake. I think you need to apologise again."

She did.

"S' better. Now since you've been so helpful assisting me with my purchase, I wonder if you'd do me a favour and help me get my items here out to my car. I don't know how we're gonna carry this cart out of the side window. Don't you ever open the doors?"

Shepard shook her head again, trying to understand what he wanted. Was he really just here to take her drinks?

"I guess not. You wanted to keep this little cave all to yourself. Smart. So, bag girl, what do we do? You got some little plastic bags for me?"

She had to think about it. There were some plastic carry bags in the stock room, but it just seemed too ridiculous to say so out loud. "I've got a couple of bags you can use," she said, remembering her old travel gear. "In the bedroom."

"Yeah? How did you get a bed through that little window?"

"Wasn't easy."

"I'll bet." He raised the gun again and made another little motion. "Well let's get going."

--

With a grunt, Shepard heaved her body out of the window and onto the ladder they had set up. The operation required much more effort than usual due to the heavy, clinking rucksack on her back. Jay stood beneath her, watching with one hand on his Kessler. "That's nice," he pointlessly said. She was irritated his inaction now, but had to remember that he had carried more than half of the bottles in the other bag.

The ladder shook a little just before Shepard reached the ground and Jay secured it with a palm. When she stepped off the bottom rung, she began to wonder if it was worth moving the ladder now she was done. Now that the Mart had been discovered, by the Reds of all people, it wasn't safe. She wondered if her blue-dyed visitor intended to make the building some sort of base of operations or just loot it for all it was worth. Either way she guessed it was Tenth Street property now.

Jay beckoned her and they walked into the parking lot, leaving the ladder alone. Rage at Jay, herself, the salarians and the Union Station force field melded together until she began to enjoy the feeling. It felt good to be focused on something other than the shame. The hate was something to hold onto.

After a while she realised they had been walking in circles. They had circuited two rows of parked cars twice now. Another of Jay's little jokes, perhaps. Now they were actually backtracking as he stared at the cars and scratched his neck.

"So which is your car?" she asked, allowing a little irritation into her voice. The fear of Jay had faded a little now that they were in the open air. The growing anger inside her helped her confidence too. She had lost the Kost Mart. It was like losing a friend.

"I haven't decided yet," Jay answered with a cartoon grin. "Reckon I like the Merc. Wonder who thought it'd be a good idea to park that in the slums?"

Shepard lost control for a moment. She told herself it was because the bag on her back was heavy. "If you were going to steal a car, why didn't you just say so?" she snapped, almost loud enough to be heard. "What was the point of that pretence? Why do you have to…?"

The anger vanished, driven from her by the cathartic outburst. She wasn't exactly scared anymore. It was nice. Jay himself seemed a little bit amused.

"Yeah, okay Shepard. I thought it was funny. Guess not. Listen, I'm starting to like you again… I'll take the Merc."

Dropping his smile, Jay became a different person and fiercely slammed his elbow into the glass of the window. She noticed that the joint stuck out a little. Those arms were thin. No wonder he relied on the use of weapons for intimidation.

The bony elbow bounced off the window, succeeding only in shaking the sleek, silver car a little. He tried again, harder and screaming, but again he achieved nothing. Simultaneously Shepard's ears were assaulted by the shriek of the car's alarm system and a series of inventive curse words, barked without finesse. The noise and the uncontrolled animal aggression scared her, and her face became hot. She wanted to step back a little but couldn't without incurring Blue Jay's wrath.

In an instant, Shepard activated her omni-tool and watched the flickering orange display appear above her forearm. Waving her arm near the car door, she searched until she heard a satisfied bleep. Then it was a simple matter of holding her arm steady as she ran a standard decryption and typed in a code she had memorised long ago.

The door of the Mercedes shot open too fast, smacking Shepard's midsection and making her jump a little. As his eyebrows raised and his comedic façade returned to him, Jay ducked into the car and quickly stopped the alarm. As his lean face reappeared he eyed the girl quizzically.

"Well now," he said, putting on a little British accent to amuse himself. "Who did you nick that little beauty from?"

She preferred not to remember how she acquired it. Looking down to escape his soft eyes, she deactivated the tool.

"You really know how to use that thing, don't you Shepard? Made me look pretty foolish just now."

"Yeah. I've can use it." She was half-lying. Simple decryptions were about all she remembered. She could break locks but the higher functions of the device were more of a mystery all the time. Before Glendale, she had been a wizard with it. She continued to exaggerate. "I've had a lot of practice."

"Yeah, like you practice fist-fighting and climbing up buildings. So that's what you do all day! Here I was thinking you just sunbathed and drank." Jay closed the door with too much force. "You want to help me out again, Shepard? Wanna stay on my good side?"

Now she did back off. Just two steps.

"It's cool, little lady. You can go home if you want. I can't guarantee I won't be back tomorrow to purchase some more of your fine goods, but I already decided I'm not gonna hurt you. It's just, we Reds got an arrangement. We stay good to each other. I've got some jobs I could use…"

"Just thieving," Shepard said, loud enough to shut him up."Just breaking locks. I'm not a dealer and I'm not a killer."

"How old are you?"

Shepard automatically felt offended and furrowed her brow before she got hold of herself. "Sixteen," she told him flatly.

"That's about what I thought. See, I don't need a sixteen year-old girl to help me deal and keep the peace. So you can relax. But I got some jobs for you and your gizmo, if you're interested."

The two looked at each other for a while, figuring out their positions. Shepard felt her throat become dry. She had some experience with gangs. There were no fond memories. But the occasional lock-picking would be easy enough for her. That was no problem. But she couldn't get over that she was so close to losing the Kost Mart. There had been someone inside. She didn't even hear him come in. It must have been when she was on the roof.

"Do I get to keep the market?" she blurted out. If the Reds became too much for her to handle, she could always get out of Arizona. She could always move on.

"Shit, I don't want it. I live in a house. But like I said, Reds look after each other."

With a sigh, Jay opened the back door of the car and hauled his zip bag of alcohol onto the seat. Shepard automatically started to slacken her shoulders in order to drop her bag, but the man stopped her with an outstretched palm.

"You keep that one. I'm going to take these as a gift from you to me. Because you hit me real hard and I don't really believe you meant that apology you gave me earlier."

Now Shepard's brain was racing and her guts were coming back to her. Jay's little jokes and antics had worn off his ability to frighten her. Maybe she could work alongside this guy after all. She had done worse things in her time than a little gang run. Once or twice.

"I didn't mean it," she said. It felt good to stand up to him, but her throat was still a little uncomfortable. Relaxation began to wash over her. She swallowed dryly.

"Okay," said Jay. "That's how it ought to be." He smiled to himself and hid the gun under his clothes as he climbed into the car, obviously thinking something over. Eventually he lowered the window and leaned his head out of it. "We'll be in touch!" he said, then laughed as if it were funny.

The car revved loudly and drove away. Shepard remained still, holding the bag of drinks by the handles and breathing slowly. After a few moments she heard the idiot skid around a corner and she dropped the bag to the floor. It rattled a little but she didn't notice.

Suddenly feeling an intrusive itch on her right eyebrow, she scratched it hard. She smiled a little as the irritation disappeared, then picked up the bag and turned around. That ladder was still against her window. It looked conspicuous.