Slipping The Grid Ch. 01

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In the future your life is not your own.
5.5k words
4.62
10.9k
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Part 1 of the 2 part series

Updated 09/26/2022
Created 10/08/2011
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Lasalles
Lasalles
20 Followers

This is a new story of which I wasn't quite sure which category to put it under. It's more or less writing itself at the moment and I'm also not sure how much sex there will be. (At this point it could go either way, so for the quick and dirty this may not be suitable and there is no gratification unfortunately in this submission.)

--

For a long time people had found amusement in urban legends of bodies in bathtubs. What they didn't consider was the plausibility of black market organs. Nothing had changed. Well almost nothing, except for the organs. Lexa looked over the body in disgust. This wasn't some poor or homeless person that had been lured here for the intention of having their organs stolen or under the misconception they'd actually be able to sell their one of their organs for a hefty price. This was a well-dressed man left to bleed out on the dank concrete floor in the carpark of a deserted building. Her boot stood just shy of the pool of blood on the ground, as the metallic and fecal smell invaded her nostrils. They must've been particularly ruthless with this one for him to let his bowels go.

"Anything?"

She shook her head. Six months in this deadbeat part of the city, another week, maybe less and she'd move onto her next destination. Wherever the hell that was.

"Call it in?"

Lexa nodded, looking at the body. Not that anyone would care, but you never knew and no matter how many dead bodies she saw, she couldn't shake the feeling that it was the right thing to do; to give them a final resting place, when so many others didn't. Lexa's body suddenly leaned as if she were about to jump back, but her feet stuck fast and her hand ripped the gun from her holster, her finger trembling against the trigger.

"Chrrrist!" Sterling gasped behind her.

The man on the floor twitched and rasped, an undecipherable sound coming from his throat.

"Are you kidding me? He's still alive?"

She slowly holstered her gun and a took a step back. "Not for long, but call it in and tell them to call the medics."

* * *

Looking up at the sky, Lexa emerged from the shadow of the building into the sunlight and shivered. Places like that should have given her the creeps, and one time they did but that was long ago. She curled her fingers into her palm and pushed her fingernails into the flesh wondering why it just didn't hurt anymore. They'd be gone by the time the police and medics arrived. She zipped up her jacket and continued down the road. She'd been in this place a thousands times before, if not here, in a hundred other cities. Places that once had a history, but no one remembered anymore, once it had outlived it's usefulness.

The human race just never learned. In their quest for power and longevity, they left destruction and ruin in their wake. There was no such thing as long term planning, it was patch it up or sell it off, leaving the mess for future generations to clean up. By the time that generation matured, the vicious cycle simply repeated itself. Governments in bed with conglomerates, law and religion to control the masses. There was no apocalypse, doomsday, or 2012, and what was that person's name... Nostradamus? And the saviour? It didn't matter what belief system it was, the more vocal ones simply modified their texts to suit their purposes. If it wasn't the fear that controlled, it was the unknown that people probably should've been more afraid of. Big brother is watching you? You bet. The only people that did a better job that those who could slice your throat open from the other side of the planet were the online companies, tracking your every click, keystroke, or transaction. Anonymous surfing? Doesn't exist. Cookies tracking you when you log out and leave? Absolutely. Want to leave the rat race and slip off the grid? Near impossible now. Most people were microchipped, one way or another. The government made sure of that, and how did they sell it? Ease. Ease of use. Making life easier. You no longer needed credit cards, or to fill out medical records, hell you didn't even need a passport anymore. It was all there, wirelessly updated, your life in one tiny bit of plastic. The thought made Lexa shudder hard as she walked along. Thinking about the world's history over the last forty years was like watching a car wreck. It was horrifying but you couldn't look away. All the ideas of rights and independence, free will and other stories that humans told themselves were suddenly no longer important. What had happened? They would never come back from this, no revolution or coup in a million years could turn them back from where they were and what they had become.

* * *

With all that had happened, it was almost laughable that some things had never changed. Despite the fact that the humans had either forgotten or paid little heed to their past, there was so much sentimental stuff that they insisted on hanging onto. Nothing but a purple neon light indicated there was any life in this part of the old industrial area, streets lined with rows and rows of hovels and factories clad with corrugated iron. It wasn't a place for anyone in their right mind. A minute into the area and it was likely you'd get robbed or killed for less. Lexa pushed through the single mesh door and looked around: booths, the obligatory scratched checkered vinyl floor, an old dusty jukebox and a couple of worn pool tables decorated the room. The place was a dive. Sterling was already sitting in a booth with Max, Tanner and Winton. They were all expressionless. She knew that look, because she wore it herself. Days rolled into weeks, months into years and so on. Life was a journey of restlessness, boredom, weariness then nothingness. Time had a way of doing that to you, until you didn't have the energy to care anymore. She slid into the dilapidated booth next to Winton, feeling the torn vinyl scratch against her pants. They all looked at her and nodded, nursing their beers.

"How is it?" She motioned her head towards the beer.

Winton stared at the bottle for a moment and then turned to her, his silver hair falling over one dark eye. "It's passable. I've had worse."

Max grinned and chuckled. "Are you talking about that shithole outside of Sandston?"

Sterling groaned and slapped a large hand against his forehead. "Don't fucking remind me."

"Well if it's good enough for you..." Lexa rose from the table and went to the bar, which was more like a literal hole in the wall. It reminded her of those food trailers at the fair when she was a child. The man who turned to serve her looked like he'd once seen better days. His emaciated appearance would have been startling if Lexa hadn't seen so many like him. Long stringy, greasy grey hair, balding at the crown, dull sunken eyes and deeply grooved, weathered skin. His overalls looked as though he was simply a hanger made of skin and bone.

"Beer... please."

The man studied her for a moment before his gnarled hand slid a brown beer bottle towards her. Lexa pulled some crumpled notes out of her pocket and pushed them along the counter towards him. He smoothed them out and then lifted a blacklight from under the counter and ran it over the bills on both side before putting it away.

"Thanks... love."

She flashed him a small smile before grabbing the bottle and turning away to find herself facing a plaid shirt. One sniff was enough, the body odour from this guy was rancid. She attempted to go around him but he sidestepped and blocked her path. Lexa sighed quietly, feeling her shoulders drop down.

"How's about a little fun?"

She shook her head and tried again on the other side, but he blocked her path again.

"Yeah, it's been awhile since we seen a lady around these parts."

A snigger sounded behind the man blocking her path and she felt the presence of someone at her back. She tried once again to go around the man, this time a little more forcefully, but he simply grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around causing her to drop the bottle. The glass shattered, spraying the beer against her pants as he locked her arms tightly behind her and sniffed at her neck, laughing.

"I like it rough."

Lexa just barely stopped herself from rolling her eyes as she watched another man advance towards her with slimy smile on face, eyeing her from head to toe.

"Could do with a bit more meat on ya." His mouth widened into a salacious grin, revealing uneven tobacco stained teeth, underneath a crooked nose.

She struggled a little in the man's arms, feeling him tighten his grip as she eyed the man coming towards her. He looked about a head taller than Lexa as he stepped within two feet. He never saw it coming. Lexa's leg flew upwards and her foot cracked him right under the jaw. His head snapped back and he fell of the floor without uttering another word. The man's hold slackened for a split second as he gasped in shock. It was all she needed as she twisted and grated her boot against his shin as she stomped down. He was a big guy and trying to use force against him would've been ineffective.

He spluttered taking a step back. "You fucking crazy bitch. What did you do?"

He looked several times between her and his friend lying on the ground before his face hardened. Lexa took a few steps back and they circled each other slowly before he suddenly rushed at her, ducking to lower his body as he attempted to take her down. Lexa merely sidestepped him and hit his face, grimacing as she mistimed. the fleshier part of her upper knee making contact. She sighed as he grunted, falling onto all fours before getting back up, enraged, blood travelling out of his nose and along his lip line. His lips curled back as he gritted his blackened teeth, growling, the spitting on the floor. He then came at her swinging wide, his long reach enabling him to close the gap between them. Lexa leaned back feeling the air from his right hook go past where her head was moments ago, and jumped up slamming her cupped palm against his ear. He stayed steady but his head dropped down as he clutched at it. It was all Lexa needed as she spun and smashing her elbow against the side of his face, dropping him to the ground.

"I like it rough too." She said, her voice low and hard.

For a moment, there was silence as she stared at the two men on the ground, out cold and then at her wasted beer on the floor. She walked towards it and picked up the pieces of glass and put it on the bar, fishing out some more notes out of her pants. A beer appeared in front of her and looked at the old man.

"I knew a girl like you once."

Lexa didn't say anything, she just watched as glimmer of life appeared in his dull eyes.

"My wife. None of that fancy stuff, but she had mean left hook." His smiled and despite his near toothlessness, suddenly every line on his face looked like it was where it was supposed to be. A life filled with memories and events of happier times. It faded slowly and his croaky voice became wistful. "She died a long time ago."

Lexa wanted to say she was sorry, it was always the first instinct, but some people reacted badly to being told someone was sorry. Sorry for what? Sorry for a complete stranger that you never knew? To sound like you were pitying someone? She gave the man the most heartfelt smile she could muster without forcing herself and slid the notes once again across the counter to find the old man's hand on top of hers, gently pushing it back.

"On the house love."

She tried to stop him and push back but he held her hand fast. Forcing herself to accept his generosity, she placed her other hand on top of his and nodded. He smiled again mouth closed and nodded back. Pushing the notes back into her pocket she picked up her beer and returned to the table.

"You're too generous. Should've just shot them."

Lexa looked up at Tanner. If she hadn't seen so much death in her life, one look in his eyes would be enough to make any sane person turn and run. It wasn't that his eyes were lifeless, they were pale and icy, with a cruel intelligence. The men were lucky they hadn't picked a fight with Tanner, his penchant for knives would've seen them slit from ear to ear without hesitation. It wouldn't have surprised her if he was someone who extracted information in his past life.

She shrugged and took a swig of the beer, the liquid bitter and cool as it slid down her throat. "Waste of bullets."

"Next?" Max looked around the table, his light brown eyes stopping on each of them.

"Wait. We found the last one..." Winton's voice trailed away.

Max nodded. "Fifty percent."

"Fifty percent. We split fifty?" Winton attempted to sound incredulous, but his voice fell flat.

Max lifted his hands helplessly. "It's what we agreed on." He sighed. "It's getting harder. There are more groups to choose from now. We are not the only ones."

Lexa looked down at her beer. The group could split, each of them going out on their own, but if you happened to have been unwittingly played off against another group, it made it a lot harder, one against a many. She'd done it for years and actually found it was advantageous, but as time wore on, she felt less alive, less human due to her lack of interaction. Sure she'd taken a major cut to her pocket, but it was also a blessing in disguise. Being solo and being half good painted a target on your back and made you fair game. For while it was flattering, fun even, but sleeping with one eye open eventually took its toll. People had heard of her, but as time wore on and more groups formed, she was hardly the only female anymore. After awhile she was just a vague name in the past. Now she transitioned from place to place, leaving one group to join another, only going solo if she had to.

"Maybe we should start eliminating the opposition." Tanner looked Lexa in the eye, as if he were waiting for her to object.

Max shook his head. "What would that achieve except making our jobs harder? That'd been like opening the door to war."

Tanner was unperturbed. "It doesn't always have to be confrontational. There are unfortunate accidents." He drawled, obviously enjoying the discomfort he was eliciting from Max.

Max rolled his eyes and let out a noisy breath, his eyes turning cold. "I don't care what you do on your own time, just don't jeopardise the group. You might be a man with no conscience but I will shoot without batting an eyelid if you endanger us."

Tanner's slow smile was predatory. He didn't say anything, but the challenge of whether each of them needed to watch their back was evident.

Sterling suddenly yawned. "Really? You two are like bloody children. Tanner stop antagonising him and Max stop taking the bait. The last thing I want to fucking worry about is one of you not having my back because you want to kill each other. I don't want to have to start looking for replacements, right? How long have we all been doing this? Tanner if you're so fucking bored, go and do something... solo if you want... just do something." Tiredness seeped out from under Sterling's frustration.

Max's face softened. "You're right Sterling." He put his hand out to shake Tanner's hand who took it without hesitation, although his face never changed.

"Right, how do you want it?"

Everyone nodded at Max as he handed out wristbands, only pausing when he got to Lexa. She shook her head and he sighed.

"Still not going to give in on this?"

Lexa shook her head again and smiled tightly. "Cash Max, that's all I'll take. I don't trust those fake chips."

"Lexa, these are the best you can get. Even better than the real thing and they come from an original source."

"I believe that. I just don't trust them."

"Well you know it'll take a couple of days."

Lexa nodded and guzzled the rest of the beer, before pushing toward the bottle to the centre of the table and getting up. "See you in a couple of days."

* * *

Walking through the building corridor, Lexa pulled out a small slimline screen and pressed a button. The words "Go Now" flashed up with a timer. Exiting the building onto the street she pulled her hood on and walked across the road, swiping the screen against the door and pushing it open quickly. She had sixty seconds to get to her room as she made a run for it, her feet softly echoing against the carpeted steps. Lexa swiped the screen again, opening the door on the fourth floor and then once more again at her room, closing the door quietly behind her.

Nony was network of private rooms in buildings all over the city. The concept was to provide anonymous lodgings for trusted people. People who wanted to stay off the grid. Apart from the trusted, accommodation was only provided to referrals from the trusted or those that proved themselves. Lexa had unintentionally rescued a Nony operator years ago and he had given her a free pass to use Nony anywhere which turned out to be more useful than she had initially realised. At first she was skeptical, but the Nony network took themselves seriously. They didn't tolerate particular activities such as killings in their rooms which is why it took years to become trusted. They didn't register any information other than how many times one might have used a Nony. They were the only details. During a stay, Nony users were provided with a screen that had two uses. The first was a keycard and the second was an indicator and timer to assist a user with coming and going without being seen, up to around five hundred metres. The final service they provided was probably the Pièce de résistance. Should anyone have been compromised, after evacuation, one or all of the rooms would be set on fire, destroying evidence. Lexa had never been through an evacuation, and she often wondered how they handled the exits that situation. What she did know was that once a Nony was compromised, the site was blacklisted, never to be used again.

Lexa lay on the bed with her hands behind her head and stared up at the ceiling. Money didn't last very long these days. It was surprising how cash and other things had managed to prevail despite the microchips. The only problem was that everything was more expensive when you paid cash. Not the other way around, like she remembered. Twenty thousand would cover three months, longer if the next task wasn't too difficult. She'd given up her other vices long ago. Celebrating or commiserating after a task was completed was something from another lifetime.

There were different levels of groups. Hacks, amateurs, pros and the ones that you either never heard of or were lucky to never have encountered. The government still relied on their semblance of order and control by way of the army and military but everyone knew it wasn't the government that ran things. The puppetmasters were the companies that controlled manufacturing and money. Strangely, they along with the elite, hired groups for recovery and other unsavoury tasks, some that she liked to forget if she wasn't so removed.

* * *

They'd broken the rule, but Lexa smiled at the old man as she once again came through the mesh door. He looked exactly the same as the other day, except that he happily smiled back when he saw her. She quickly looked around the room, but the two men from the other day were nowhere to be seen.

"Don't worry love, they won't be back for some time." He chuckled.

She nodded and sat in the same booth and having same meeting place set her slightly on edge. This wasn't how they usually did things. She looked around the room again, scanning the windows and ceiling, trying to gauge if there was something wrong or if it was just paranoia. Moments later the rest of the group slid into the booth.

"You're early." Max placed an envelope on the table.

Lexa shrugged. "I just got here."

He flipped open the envelope and the group leaned forward to scrutinise the several pictures that he slid out. Another affluent looking male in black and white, leaving a hotel and returning. He looked young, late twenties, early thirties at the most.

Lasalles
Lasalles
20 Followers
12