The sun had already went down by the time I get to my side of Exa.
No more wide avenues, fancy cars or bright lights. In the cramped pile of apartment buildings we called the Slums, there was only room for two people to walk shoulder to shoulder in the narrow alleys that created a life sized maze.
Before adventuring into the dark crack filled by passing residents, I pull my collar up and check the news tab on my HUD, still nothing about the execution. I am probably the only one that saw and recorded what happened. A win at last.
Guided by the neon signs for restaurants, neonartist and suspicious bioneers, I head forward trying to avoid physical contact even though it's impossible.
Lifting up my mouth to breath, I regret not grabbing my mask. The air is warm and stiff on the ground, the wind can't get through the concrete and metal that wraps us even from above.
"Hey cutie, aren't you a bad boy?!"
A cold metallic object touches my ear, instinctively I flinch.
"Easy boy, don't you wanna have fun?"
The owner of the porn-ich voice had her arm in the air where my ear was. Her mechanical fingers waver with fake desire accompanied by a smile made of brass and metal.
"I'm not your type, babe." I turn my head. There is so many alterations on that woman, I'm not even sure I should call her that.
Moving forward on the path of glowing signs and cold white lamps, my stomach cramps when the smell of fresh food floods my nose. Instantly I remember I have nothing left to eat at home, I drained my stash of noodles and coffee.
Another cramp and I'm already heading towards the smell. To follow my hunger I have to get past a few more funny hands and climb a couple rusty metal ladders to get to the source of the delicious scent.
"Yo, look who it is!" A loud salesman voice greets me as I meet the man's eyes. "You look like a ghost, boy! I missed you this week."
"I had a thing for chilly noodles these past days."
"You don't leave that far up to not come here for dinner. Can't be eating that industrialized ration."
An improvised counter is where the door to the apartment should be. From inside the windowless room, the smell of roasted chicken escapes, making my insides crave for it.
Silva is already serving a generous portion of steamy rice in a take out package, as if he could read my thoughts. Guess I'm more hungry than I expected.
"You're gonna love this. It's real meat, nothing like this synthetic shit from the ads."
The short wide man was a blabber. Most of the times I enjoy listening to his venting or just longing about the past, but today I was all about that juicy spicy chicken leg with perfect grilled skin.
"My cousin smuggled these beauties just for me, all the way from my land across the ocean." He finished deboning the thing and was adding a generous ladle of beans. "You're lucky cuz I don't know when I'm gonna have this again. Fucking Leadership is tightening the inspections at the port."
Once the open package is laid in front of me all I want to do is eat with my bare hands, that's how desperate I am.
"Miserable mercenary, only the Top Tier can afford paying… Oi, don't zone out on me boy!"
A sounding laughter followed by a heavy tap on my shoulder stop me from giving into my primal instincts.
"Sorry… I was having a moment with this chicken leg."
I close the package with a sting to the stomach.
"Nah, I was just rambling. You know how people are, we can't stop complaining even though we came to this shit hole willingly."
"I know something about that." I grab the hot meal, ready to leave.
"Wait there, Imma join you." Silva says, taking off the stained apron and signaling to someone deeper inside the apartment.
Stretching my eyes into the poorly illuminated room, I'm drawn to the TV light. There's no sound, the news is on.
Silva finishes serving his plate when a triangle with three buildings each one of a different size interrupts the news.
"Turn it up!" I bark at Silva's son who had shown up.
Standing in the middle dressed in a dark sharp suit under a black military coat with a bloody red tie is the figure of a man with an obscured face. However, in the place where there should be his head is the Eye of the pyramid.
"Honorable citizens of Exa, I come to you to inform that once more the Leadership has neutralized a thereat to our city. Earlier today, a clone terrorist failed to bomb the center of our progress, the City Tower. The subject intended to invade the building but was stopped before it could cause any harm.I'm here to remind these rebels that the Leadership through the city Force will not hesitate to protect the peace and progress of Exa."
The transmission ends with a dry cut back to the news. Perfect!
"What happened this time? Who did he kill?" Silva calls my attention away from the screen, he is standing with a full plate on his hand.
"I have to go. Thanks, man."
With a command, I wired the payment and turned my back on him, heading toward the alley at the end of the floor.
Rushing home, the walls seemed even closer together as the images of that woman pop in and out of my mind. It was a perfect opportunity but I had to play it right. Now that the Mayor has already told everyone his version it's much easier to show everyone what a liar he is.
My thoughts are speeding so fast I don't even realize I have reached the roof of Silva's building, ten floors high. With only two roofs to cross before my apartment I'm about to step on the bridge made out of just a metal plate laid over the gap when I notice a group of punks graffiting an air exit. Rebels.
I really don't want to explain again why I don't attend the meetings anymore. With my head down and mask back on I walk between the ducts and antennas, praying that they are too high to recognize me.
As I get closer, they are agitated, hyping up the one that is drawing using neon paint. Maybe they really won't notice me.
Avoiding eye contact I pick up the pace to get it over with. On the wide ventilation duct the lines forming a gasmask start to take form, popping out against the darkness.
One of the teens steps back to take a better look just as I'm walking past him and to my discomfort he bumps into me.
"My bad…" He says and we lock eyes for a second. "Fenix! What 's up man?"
I'm not surprised he knows my name, just as I'm also not surprised that I don't know his.
"I'm good." I respond, my voice coming out of the mask's speakers.
"Hey, have you seen it?"
The unknown character lands his robotic arm over my shoulders, pulling me closer to the group. Near his elbow I notice it's recently implanted, the flesh is red and swollen around the edges of the metallic member.
"Seen what?"
"The statement! Where have you been, Fenix? I thought you'd be all over this."
"I'm not with the Rebellion anymore."
Casually I pull away, adding some distance between me and the bold teen. The others are not paying attention, they are still watching the guy retouch the gasmask.
"Bullshit! You were the most invested of us. Always pitching sick plans and attacks."
The excited smirk on the boys face makes it obvious he is with the Rebellion for the rush of blowing up things and killing cops.
"I got tired of just talking."
On the wall the group shouts in celebration as the artist finishes its graffiti, one more among the many that cover the walls of the slums.
"I gotta go, man. See ya…" I nod trying to slip away from the pointless conversation.
"Come on Fenix! The others are gathering for a meeting right now and no one-"
"Knows what happened or what to do next, right?" I finish his sentence for him. "You people should wait for the Mask instructions."
This time I didn't wait for approval and just walked away before even completing my phrase.