“Aight, fine—you got me.” Leo blurted out after a brief silence.

  “Spill it then. Where we droppin’? What floor we hittin’? Who rollin’ wit us? Got scouts? Got eyes on cams? I ain’t tryna walk blind into some grounder floor.” Leo replied, beginning some light stretches.

  [Grounder floor – the lower floors of apartment cities]

  “Chill, roll wit me. If you ain’t got gear, we got spare for you. Make sure you pack, at least a fang or something - you gotta in these stacks. We movin’ tonight, but it’s nothin’. One guy dropped out, but you? You got lightning feet. Ain’t like you gonna slip.”

  [Pack – keeping weapons on your person for possible protective measures]

  [Fang – bladed weapon]

  Leo wasn’t bothered about the short notice. The earlier the better. Heading into his room, he opened a cabinet to reveal a short pile of folded clothes, all in black or dark grey at the very lightest. Masks. Gripped gloves.

  Leo realised, as he lifted one of his old masks.

  “Sheeesh, you geared up proper! Just snag the gear and we’ll be gone quick. This run gon’ be lightwork!” The boy said confidently.

  Leo made sure to take his usual gear. Blacked out outfits, mostly matte black. Along with that, a makeshift dagger and a spinehook. These spinehooks were useful but deadly weapons. A curved blade, with rugged ends, which would be great at hooking ono items, and tearing with even somewhat light pulls.

  Filling a dark black backpack, Leo nodded to the boy at the door, who led the way toward the nearest public lift.

  “Name?” Leo asked as they walked.

  “The name’s Sandro, man. And yours?”

  “Leo.”

  He was directed even higher up, onto the forty-fourth floor. The streets, barely given a sliver of sunlight, were even more decrepit than those he found on his home floor.

  “How come you deh down here? Yuh sound like someone from di suburbs.” The boy commented.

  Leo felt a bit startled by this question. He felt like just giving a superficial, partially false reply to shut the kid down in a sense. However, he could tell he was of good nature. Therefore a few seconds passed where he really thought about what he said.

  “Dis is where I come from. Mi parents died young, neva had nuff to der name. I live off government coin, but it’s not enough. I wanna bounce from dis place, so I try act like dem from di outside—tryna get out.” Leo replied, almost like a blurting out of emotions.

  He talked slightly louder than he had done previously, with the emotion behind his words projecting them.

  “I feel dat, bro. These streets neva forgive, man. No mercy. It is what it is, dem from di outside be hollow, always chasin’ the bag and stuff. No time for family n’ peace.” Sandro replied.

  It felt refreshing to here a perspective like that, and from a kid like Sandro made it even more pleasing. Leo wasn’t going to speak his mind, but he believed that to be a lie. A lie to make the stacklife tolerable for those in there.

  He’d rather be hollow and rich than live and die in this place.

  would. Nobody would choose the stacklife over actual success. Freedom. Respect.

  “I guess so.”

  The streets were covered in discoloured muck, only god knew what was floating in those substances.

  The lights used to illuminate the heavily dim, narrow streets were flickering in and out of use, leaving heavily dark spots, even during daytime.

  Arriving at a door which was simply a cut part of a shipping container, it opened to the crew that he assumed he’d be rolling with.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Ahead of them was a glass table, with several maps and items littered across it. The dim living room of this cube was illuminated by a dim golden light. Some people were sat on the sofa and others were sat on the bed nearby.

  There were 7 of them in total, with Leo and the boy that had invited him included.

  He could see an older fellow that he could tell wasn’t going on the actual run. He had a makeshift computer by his side, being held together by several different components that resembled simple scrap metal.

  Beside that laptop were weapons – blades, short bats, padded gloves. What caught Leo’s eye, though, were the two homemade pistols on the table.

  These were referred to as clackers, which were heavily low-grade firearms capable of shooting basic slugs. They were known to only have about 100 shots before they’d be busted and need heavy repairing.

  He hadn’t seen weapons like that in a while. There were heavy sentences for their possession in these apartment cities. There’ve been countless horror stories of terrible things happening to people as a result of these weapons, even with the firers getting injuries from the weapon’s unreliability.

  “Aight then, we runnin’ real soon. Hittin’ many spots, all in the maps here and there. Folks need eats and drink, but you toss scrap my way, I make it dance. We tryna squeeze every drip outta dis trip, so don’t vex if hours pass. Knowin’ patience key out here. Move faster than yuh need, and the stack gods gon’ lash back. Use every minute proper, den come back safe ‘n sound.” The older individual explained.

  After this, he gave Leo a deep run-through of what was to happen. As much as he hated the danger of trips like these, he somewhat missed the excitement he’d get from it. Being a young teenager in these apartment cities, running from authorities and proving yourself through these shadowruns was quite the experience.

  They were memories he didn’t want to lose; he didn’t regret them at all.

  However, that thought continued to linger in the back of his mind. Was this the right way to go? The risk here was off the charts, and he just couldn’t shake his mind off that.

  They’d be following hidden paths in the apartment cities, a rather common phenomenon. Relying on dodgy lifts -yo-yos- and blocked off paths to make their way through the city without being detected.

  Along these maps were detailed areas of spots in the city with low lighting, and that were out the way of any surveillance cameras. They’d utilise those spots if necessary, and camp in them in case of any security guards or other people catching them.

  Leo and the others geared up, as the sun finally set. It was pitch black, leaving this eerie, frightening darkness in the streets of this block city. The air, though, was warm, and thick.

  Lifting his mask up, Leo started readjusting it, before clicking a strap for his backpack over his chest.

  “Move out, boys. Bring glory to ya families.” The man called out, as they all gave their final nods back to him.

  “Aight, y'all follow me. Keep yo' packings locked, and let's roll out.”

  At the forefront, was the seemingly most experienced of the crew. A tall, slender boy standing at 6’0, and looking about 150lbs. Leo was tucked right behind him in the formation, with the others circling him being positioned to his side or behind him.

  They traversed the narrow until they reached the end, splitting up to go their assigned paths.

  Upon seeing a surveillance camera near their path, he knew he’d have to cross the next street with speed. Therefore, he calmed and could then see the flickering of a distant golden light slow.

  It had worked.

  The light, nimble taps of the shadowrunners around him deepened and slowed, calming himself as the world slowed.

  Speeding ahead with the nimble feet his companions were hoping to see, he swiftly passed the danger zone and carried on to the following paths.

  The runners entered a very narrow, dark walkway, safe from light and surveillance. This would be one of their only times to regroup and communicate before they’d enter more serious danger.

  Upon taking this path, Leo was starting to take glances at the luxurious appearance of this second floor. The lights barely flickered and almost resembled the slums on the outside of the apartment cities. Even the people seemed more pleasant down here.

  Apartments bigger than classic one-room cubes were commonplace on the lower floors, and even the streets felt clearer. Emptier. However, it was still the stack. The dirt, narrow streets and overall dense nature remained. It took someone from the stack to perceive and appreciate the differences between the floors.

  Leo was starting to feel fear as he carried on; it was only natural. But with that came this odd sense of excitement – anticipation of what was to come.

  “Yo, we 'bout to hit our first shop, Mongrove’s. Don’t lounge on the street too long. Slide in, swipe, then bounce out quick. Keep ya masks tight—we can’t be havin’ mugshots on dem cams!” The boy in the lead announced.

  “No problem, man. We’ve got dis!” Another announced.

  “Aight, let's get dis done.”

  After making these statements, the group fell to complete silence. They could see light coming from the end of this street.

  It was go-time.

  Leo fell into a slight crouch almost out of reflex. Making one shorter and more concealed could make their actions covert, and get them through narrower openings.

  He used his hands in the form of light taps on the wall to control himself. Upon reaching the end of the street, the leader reflexively threw his hand down onto the handle of his clacker pistol.

  Turning back, he made a signal with his fingers aiming forwards.

  Just forward and to their left from the maps, Mongrove’s store would be there.

  The sign of the store was white, with red text for the store name which was itself a neon light. They’d have to be swift.

  The leader burst out from the corner in a flash, with eagle eyes of focus, and the others followed so all of them were out in a single second. As he exited, Leo took a deep breath in and calmed himself. Focusing on slowing time, he could hear the buzzing from the street lights above deepen and everyone around him slow down.

  Worked like a charm.