Read The Courier (San Angeles) for Free Online Page B

and locked them away with the tears.
    Two months later, I ran away. I waited until Uncle Stan was passed out on the couch, packed all the clothes I could fit into my school bag, and walked out the door, more scared than I’d ever been. Before I left, I wrote a note to Auntie and hid it in the box of pads inthe medicine cabinet. Uncle Stan would never go anywhere near them. Then I found every bottle in the apartment and poured them down the drain.
    Getting Uncle Stan’s wallet was the scariest part, but it gave me a bit of a head start once I was out of there. I’d grabbed the sharpest knife in the kitchen and held it while my other hand reached into his pocket. He was so drunk, he never even noticed.
    I hadn’t been back since.
    Being fourteen and alone on Level 1 wasn’t safe, but I was scared the police on Level 2 would find me and take me back to him, so I stayed. I spent the first few nights hiding under piles of rubble and garbage, shivering from either the cold or fear, when the gangs got too close to me. When the money I’d earned and stole ran out, I scavenged for food, eventually resorting to licking out whatever was left in the bottom of empty cans I found, when the hunger took control of who I was.
    By the time I found my hole, I was ready to do almost anything to eat. I’d crawled into a depression in the debris of a collapsed building, part of me wanting to hide for the night, part of me looking for a place to die.
    Under the trash at the bottom was a deep hole. I squirmed into it. The hole turned into a tunnel so tight I wasn’t sure I would have fit if I’d had any food in me. It eventually opened up, dropping me into the subbasement of the collapsed building. I don’t know how long I crawled through the blackness; I don’t know what kept me going, or how many times I woke up, pulling myself from the edge of insanity. I’d like to think my mom and dad helped guide me to the storage lockers. Some of the doors had been busted open by the force of the collapsing building. Inside, I found bottled water and tins of fish in oil. I ate and drank until I threw up before passing out.
    I’d found a place where I could survive.

LEVEL 2—TUESDAY, AUGUST 9, 2140 8:20 P.M.
    “What do you mean, got away?”
    Quincy pulled the comm unit away from his ear and sighed. Sure, Jeremy was his boss, but sometimes he didn’t seem too smart. “I scanned her and the bike.” He already knew who the courier was, but past experience had taught him to never give away all his secrets.
    “Send me the information,” Jeremy said.
    “Already on its way.”
    “Good. Gather a team and get ready for my call. I want that package back.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    Quincy closed the connection and watched the corner the courier had disappeared around, a small smile on his face, before turning back toward the Innotek building.
    Paul still lay on the floor, slowly rocking back and forth with his hands on his crotch. It looked like he was breathing again, so he’d probably be all right. Too bad. The asshole screwed up, and should pay for it. He walked into the building and lifted Paul to his feet.
    “You let her get away.”
    Paul’s breath still came in short gasps. “Me? You’re the idiot that let her get into the stairwell.”
    Quincy let go of Paul, dropping him back down to the floor. It was true; he had given her the opportunity to get away, hoping for the added thrill of the chase. He figured he’d corner her by the elevator, but she was faster than he thought she would be.
    No matter. It was Paul’s job to stop anyone from entering or leaving the building. And Paul fucked up.
    He looked down at Paul and smiled again, placing his heel on Paul’s outstretched fingers. “If you ever talk to me like that again, you’ll join our friend upstairs.” He twisted his heel, feeling the knuckles pop like ripe grapes. He could almost hear the sharp crunching of bones through Paul’s screams.
    Quincy stepped back, still looking down