Chapter 6: No Rest For A Delivery Guy.

---

 

After breaking off from his small flashback episode, Lorenzo motioned Jack to follow him as he took a seat in one of the pizzeria booths.

“How was it?” The older man asked him once he slid into the seat opposite his. “How did you find your first night? Did you encounter troubles?”

“It was fine, I guess.” Jack shrugged before taking out the money from the orders and giving it to him – cash and pennies. “Mostly, it was just a lot of walking around, which was the most tiring part along with trying to reassure people that no, I’m not here to rob them or assault them, but to deliver their food.”

Lorenzo nodded and took the offered cash before wordlessly beginning to count the money.

Once done, he took out some of the money for himself before sliding the rest across the table to him.

91$, rounded out. Jack was due 50$ of commission fee for the ten pizzas he delivered, plus another 41$ in tips.

“I thought you had a bike, a scooter or something to make the deliveries.” Lorenzo mentioned, “It didn’t occur to me when I watched you leave that you were on foot.”

“It also didn’t occur to me to ask you if you have a scooter.” Usually, pizza delivery men either used scooters or a car to do their job.

“I don’t have one available. Sold the one I used to drive and the backup scooter is out of service.” Lorenzo grunted, “It needs a thorough repair, problem with that is that it costs more to repair it than to just sell the scrap and buy a secondhand scooter or even a new one.”

Jack sighed, having feared this answer. It seemed like he would be on his own as far as delivery transport goes. By the next month, his calves were going to be well-defined.

He could maybe buy a bike himself or more likely, he would look into getting his hands on a pair of roller skates. Oh! There was also the option of ‘requisitioning’ a vehicle from a gang, whatever the type.

Thinking about getting a pair of roller skates never failed to rouse in him the deep-buried desire of one day possessing a pair of Air Trecks and soaring over in the sky by using them.

Ever since he watched the anime Air Gear and awakened to his powers, the idle desire never managed to leave his thoughts. In his homeworld, with the existence of Genius – supes with the ability to create incredible pieces of technology coming straight from sci-fi movies – the option of commissioning a Genius to build a pair of ATs was a real possibility as long as a person has the contacts and money.

Jack noticed that there were a lot of villains in Gotham, like Mr Freeze or Mad Hatter for example, who could fall under the ‘Genius’ category.

He could look further into the matter once he has time, and his situation, a little more secure. Finding someone who might be able to reproduce ATs and build him one pair was going to be on top of his ‘hobbies list’ of priorities, just behind getting laid.

It was a matter of fulfilling long-thought-out-of-reach childhood dreams.

“I can keep working on foot or even buy a pair of roller skates if it comes to it. Till I have something better, you might want to have the times updated and maybe have me swing back for further deliveries so the pizzas can be kept hot." The young rogue suggested after some thoughts.

“It’s the employer’s responsibility to take care of this part of the job.” Lorenzo sighed, “Usually, I wouldn’t bother, you might not even have lasted a week but you proved the contrary. You’re the first one in a long fucking time who manages to complete all his deliveries. For this, I’m going to take a leap of faith and trust you.” He directly stared at Jack’s red lens, giving him an intense glare. “Give me one week and I’m going to get you that scooter in working condition. I trust that you know how to handle and drive one?”

"Yessir!!!” He cheered, pumping his fist even as he gave the older man a salute, making him look at him strangely. “I hope though that you brand that scooter to make it real identifiable. If nothing else, having people know I'm your man would go a long way in making sure it ain't stolen or jacked."

“It already is,” He answered with, Jack dare say, amusement. It was quite queer coming from the man he was beginning to know as being gruff and curt. “And believe me, it won’t stop people from trying to steal it if they think they can get away with it.”

“Which they won’t get away with if they even try,” Jack seriously answered, all cheers abandoned. Lorenzo gave him a grunt of approval. “Also, for some particular reasons, I can’t show you my driving licence.”

Lorenzo shot him a knowing glance at that. “Ah, I understand. Don’t worry, again, as long as you do know how to drive, it’s fine with me. Either way, I won’t ask you to show me a license, and nobody will ask you to 'round these parts. Dressed as you are, which poor sod stuck on traffic duty will stop you and demand to see a license…? They aren’t paid enough to give a shit about crazy mask cunts driving a scooter.” He shrugged at him, “No offense.”

“Some taken.” Jack deadpanned.

It was good that Lorenzo interpreted what he insinuated the way he wanted. And to be fair to him, it was a good guess. As he said, dressed as he was, if he was ready to deliver pizzas in seedy neighbors deck out for war, then, coming to the conclusion that he greatly valued his anonymity and security, was a perfectly logical guess to make from the older man's perspective. So was inferring the reason why he wouldn't show him a driving license was because he wanted to protect said anonymity.

Although, even if Jack had one, he wouldn’t have shown it to someone anyway. He never went out in his supe’s persona with things which could be used to link him back to his civilian identity.

Chuckling, Jack said. “It’s good for me then that they aren’t paid enough to make it a problem for me.”

“It’s how things are. Now, back to the subject of getting updates between each delivery, I don’t have any way of contacting you.” Lorenzo reproached. “We need to rectify this.”

“I have a burner phone but no number from which you can contact me.”

Lorenzo muttered something under his breath – which suspiciously sounded like a curse – that he failed to catch up before abruptly standing up, “Wait here!” The older man ordered as he hobbled toward the back of the room – the kitchen.

Before long, he came back with a clunky black walkie-talkie which he handed to him as he sat back. “This ought to do the job. This little gem here has a range of 15 miles (24 km). It’s water-proof and has a direct link to the local police department radio frequency so you may be aware if shit goin' down where you are or are going. Bonus point, it’s fucking durable. The batteries can last 2 up to three days.”

‘Where did he even find something like this?’ First, the G.P.S, now this…

He was starting to suspect that Lorenzo wasn’t as simple as he appeared. At this point, this has to qualify as Genius-tech even if it was pretty low on the totem pole of it. If the older man was the one putting this equipment together, why bother with opening a pizzeria? He could do other things with his talent and make a living doing this.

No. Call it a gut feeling, but Jack was pretty sure that he was simply a customer.

“Thanks, I will take care of it too.”

“Good. I expect you to do. It’s worth its weight in gold.” Lorenzo gave him a sharp nod. “Now, let’s talk about the job specs.”

Jack grinned.

He already knew it but still wanted to hear it. And coming from him, it was as good a confirmation as any that he was hired.

---

The following conversation was pretty boring and standard as far as recruitment processes went. Lorenzo gave him another small selling pitch, allaying the advantages of working for him – as meager as they were, in his own words – outside of the commission fees and the more than average generous tips.

A hot pizza at the end of each work shift.

A 10% family discount or couple discount.

And Street Rep. This one, hilariously enough, while being an intangible thing, in terms of currency and favors he could get from being known as ‘The Delivery man’ from Lorenzo’s, was quite tangible, benefits-wise. The pull and reputation it afforded among the mobsters, the law-abiding citizens, the police, the heroes and even among some villains – wasn’t insignificant.

If he was good enough at the job, becoming a local celebrity among a certain demographic of the population was a great possibility.

In the end, Lorenzo informed him of the work hours. Monday and Tuesday were days off when the pizzeria was closed, it being the beginning of the week, things tended to be less busy.

From 3:00 p.m. to 11:00 p.m. were the standard work hours. Later, when things would start rolling and the pizzeria’s owner could get his hand on fresh blood, it would be possible to push his work hours to later hours and only do a half-shift if he desired.

But for now, his new employer asked him to be here again tomorrow afternoon, and early this time. In the meantime, he would look for a mechanic to repair his backup scooter during the week-end and the beginning of the week.

“I think I went through everything I wanted to say,” Lorenzo told him at the threshold of the pizzeria, having come out to see him off. “Still, I don’t even know what I’m supposed to call you!”

Jack rubbed his hands together in an attempt to ward off the chill. It was already late at night, around 10:00 p.m. from what he managed to glimpse.

“While in costume, I’m Rule. On the job, you can call me whatever you want. But I think people will start to call me ‘The Delivery Guy’ or something.”

“Rule, huh? Ain’t it is an ominous name...” Lorenzo mumbled.

He had simply shrugged in response and bade him good night before leaving.

Once done with their conversation, Lorenzo had made good on his promise of food at the end of each shift.

He presented him with an individual-size pizza, 8” with coke at his demand.

The pizza was simple, with double cheese, tomato sauce, onions and some meat. Nothing else was added to it and pretty basic as far as pizzas went. But Jack still ate it on site with gusto, so great was his hunger – thankfully for him, the mask filter part of his helmet was detachable. The taste and texture of melted cheese, the marriage of aromas melting in his mouth as the different spices and savors intertwined with each other, creating a cacophony of flavors.

It was simply exquisite. The residual warmth in his gullet and stomach could attest to it.

Before he knew it, he had devoured the entire pizza.

‘No wonder everyone has been so excited at the idea of Lorenzo’s getting back in business, it’s not simply the rarity of the service, the pizza is good too.’ He thought, on the way back to his place.

---

It was well past midnight when Jack got back to his temporary home. Inside, everything was dark and he struggled a little to navigate his way through the place, even with his night vision on. But soon enough, he reached the locker room and turned on the power generator.

It started with nary a sound.

Checking the fuel gauge, he noted that he was going to be out of fuel soon and should plan to make a run sometime either later or tomorrow to replenish it. However, for now, he was due for a shower. He stunk, with his costume drenched in sweat, a shower before hitting bed was needed.

Taking off his costume, he put his full body-fitting black spandex in the laundry basket near the wall and stepped into the shower.

Another cold shower later, Jack switched into a pair of slightly oversized sleepwear and hit the bed.

Alone, in the dark, having turned off the power generator once he was done with his shower, his thoughts drifted to his family. To happier times but also to a much more recent, darker space.

He remembered with fondness the last time he had a mundane conversation with his parents. Before V happened. He remembered it being about his Uni classes and how his mom was less-than-pleased with his grades. She had chided him for his overcommitment to his supe’s persona and career, fearing that he was neglecting his civilian life.

His father had expressed the same concerns, but was less more… worried about it? He trusted him to be responsible with his future and with how he was managing his supe’s income.

The last time Jack had seen them, they were worried sick about him, about possibly seeing him off to his death like other parents of supes did before them. In the end, it was them who died, the emergency underground bunker they were in, having collapsed after V.’s passage.

“Please… please! Please, honey! Promise me that you’re going to be careful out there… Promise me you’ll come back to me!” His mother had begged, tears streaming down her cheeks as she grasped his head in a tight grip and forced him to look her in the eyes. “Promise me, Jack… Promise me!”

He made the promise. Whispering reassurance. Telling her that he was on search & rescue duty; that he wouldn’t have to fight; that he would be relatively safe compared to other front-fighter supes. That he would come back to her.

He hugged her. Before bumping foreheads with his father, in the manly greeting he taught him when he was six or younger. The same one that has been taught by his own father before. It was a tradition for the men in the family at this point.

Seeing his father, his stoic and strict father holding back his tears as he looked at him and told him how proud he was…

In the end, it should’ve been them who promise him to be safe, to be careful and not reckless.

Because they were the ones who died.

They hadn’t had the time to evacuate, preferring to send his younger sister off alongside other parents and adults who had stayed behind to help with the evacuation. That was what he was told and what he picked from Ayanna later.

Ayanna.

He remembered with fondness the last time he saw his little sister… he remembered the last time she truly beamed at him. Before everything went to shit.

He got her a limited album edition from her favorite K-pop boy band. She’d hinted multiple times and not-so surreptitiously at him, that she wanted it for her birthday. It was one of the things she always took with her when he was moving from bunkers to bunkers. It helped her pass the time, she’d told him.

Was it… two weeks? Or three weeks ago?The last time he saw her.

“Please… don’t leave… don't go. Stay with me, Jack… Don't leave me alone too… please…” She had begged, like every time before this one when he was forced to leave her and answer the call to arm.

“I promise,” he smothered a choke. “We’re going to see that Demon Slayer’s movie like you wanted.”

He hated the anime Demon Slayer, it was way too overhyped and mediocre in his opinion. But his sister loved it, and seeing the tentative small smile she returned before jumping to hug him – has been worth making that promise at the time to him.

So, so worth it.

He would re-watch the anime a million times if it meant watching it with his sister even a single time.

Like with his parents, there was nothing left of her. No body’s remains. No remaining personal effect from her. Even the bracelet she’d weaved for him, even the one memento of her still left, of any of his family… even this last memento… was forever lost – dead. Like them.

Jack closed his eyes and screamed into his pillow as he angrily started hitting the bed. Again, and again, and again, and again, until all his frustration blade away, leaving behind deep-sitting tiredness.

‘Water, Food, Shelter.’ He repeated the mantra in his head, trying to keep his mind busy with something else. Anything. To keep those thoughts away.

He needed to do more tomorrow and in the following weeks.

He needed to replenish his fuel stock, go to a laundromat to wash his costume, polish part of his armor, and go buy some groceries.

He needed to keep investigating the city. More precisely, he needed to investigate its criminal underbelly and its layers. It was imperative for him to know who controlled which parts of town and called the shots if he was ever going to operate in those parts.

He also needed to forge himself an ID and get some papers solid enough that he could go to Uni if he wanted, buy a house, or get a credit — basically, the whole yard.

This was probably going to be the toughest and most expensive thing to do. Yet, not impossible.

---

Come morning, Jack woke up groggy and sore from last night’s work. His legs were still a little sore from all the running and walking he did. His back was throbbing, and slightly sore too, like he slept on concrete ground and not on a mattress.

Already annoyed and in a bad mood, he turned on the power generator and took a quick shower. The lack of shampoo and his current bad breath reminded him once again that he was in alarming need of essential hygiene products like a toothbrush and toothpaste.

Another thing to add to his list of course for this morning. He made a mental note.

Done with his quick shower, he changed out of his sleepwear to wear some street clothes.

Jack put on the same pair of pants as yesterday, but this time with a different t-shirt along with a sweater he found – which has a death skull emblazoned in the middle – to complete the ensemble and help ward off the cold. He hasn't forgotten how chilly it tended to be in the morning and evening.

He decided to just skip breakfast altogether, not exactly enthused at the prospect of eating another dish of canned beans.

Once he made sure that there was nobody in the vicinity, he climbed up outside with a shopping bag in hand which contained his dirty costume.

For once, the sun wasn’t covered by dark and gloomy clouds but instead, was shining brightly. Though, it did nothing for the cold. The icy wind was harshly biting at his exposed skin, especially his ears; while the air itself was quite chilly.

To stay warm and not freeze on the spot, he got on the move. His first destination… a thrift store.

---

Jack spent the whole morning and afternoon before work running errands. First, he swung by a public laundromat to wash his dirty costume. It took quite a while for the cleaning and drying cycle to be complete, but once it did, he grabbed a quick breakfast at a food truck – a bacon-wrapped hotdog, topped with chili sauce, coleslaw, and pickled jalapeños. A French vanilla coffee helped digest down his hotdog.

After grabbing breakfast, his next destination was a thrift store to get himself some casual clothes, winter clothing and shoes. He ended up spending close to 73$ on clothes and winter accessories.

But he deemed the expense much needed and to be worth it. With two bags full of clothing, he took the bus back home to drop off his purchases. By then, it was already a little past noon so he quickly made his way to the nearest grocery store where he spent a good hour buying things for breakfast like bread, eggs, butter, milk, sugar, salt, etc… Along with canned tomatoes, different canned sauces, spices, onions, rice, spaghetti, chicken breast, pork chops on sale, and other such things.

After spending up to 123$ in food, Jack walked off the grocery store, struggling to carry four shopping bags full of groceries, and was beginning to feel himself quickly running against the clock. The time for work was rapidly approaching and he hadn't even bought essential hygiene products, fuel for the power generator like he had planned or maybe a pair of roller skates to help him on the job.

Looking at the clock, it was already well past 1:00 p.m. If he was going to do all of those, he would have to hurry up. Though he doubted he’d have the time to drop by a gas station to buy fuel, then swing by a Target to buy his roller skates, before going to another store – one catering toward the sale of essential hygiene products – which won’t rip him off for said products, like if he was to buy them at another place for the sake of proximity.

Oh! Doing all of this while getting to work on time.

No.

He wouldn’t be able to make it.

Musing on the subject, Jack settled on taking another bus home to drop off his grocery bags. Were he in costume, he might have just levitated the bags while going about his business. Alas, it wasn’t an option for him as he was in civie.

After dropping his bags, he rapidly changed into his costume, made a mad dash for the nearest store selling what he needed, then on the way back home, he stopped by a Gas station to buy a 20L can, full of diesel.

Jack spent 27$ for the shower gel, dishwashing liquids, shampoo, toothbrushes and toothpaste. While the 20L can of diesel had cost him 22$, raising his overall total spending of the day to 256$, including his bus fees.

Total amount spent: -256$
Total amount left: 107$

Yet, despite his best effort, he still ended up turning late by 15 minutes or so for work.

“You’re late.” An irate Lorenzo greeted him behind the counter when he entered the pizzeria.

“Sorry, I wa—”

“Spare me the excuses,” Lorenzo sharply cut out, “I have some orders for you. 7 to start. All in Crime Alley. I’ve already listed the addresses on your G.P.S.” He grunted, gesturing to said GPS sitting on the counter – his red delivery parka beside it. And he assumed that the pizzas were already stuffed inside the delivery backpack that was currently sitting on a counter stool seat.

Figuring that he wasn’t in the mood for small talk, Jack nodded his head in affirmation and wordlessly strode toward him. He strapped the GPS to his wrist before effortlessly putting the backpack on his shoulder, over the red parka.

“Don’t forget your talkie-walkie!” Lorenzo reminded him as he was about to turn to leave.

Giving the man a sheepish smile that he wasn’t able to see, Jack took the offered talkie-walkie from his hand then made his way to the door’s entrance.

“Take care, and be careful out there!” He heard him say as he pulled open the door.

Giving him an okay sign over his shoulder, Jack strode outside.

The nearest delivery address on the GPS was around a slow 15-minute jog from his position. While the farthest was… maybe a good 40 minutes or so?

‘5 different addresses. Two pizzas each for the same address, and the other three are all from different people.’ He noted, ‘Well, better get to it then!’

Opening a [chamber] and deftly switching the backpack with some random rubbish hanging out on the nearest rooftop, Jack expertly climbed said rooftop and then, hefted back his charge on his shoulder.

He broke into a jog.

---

The first delivery of the night went as one would expect. When he had shown up at the first client’s door, a mix of astonishment, dumbfoundedness and fear was the reaction he got. It took him quite some time comforting and reassuring them to put them at ease. And this, despite the fact that Lorenzo had apparently warned the client beforehand of his… appearance and get up.

“Lo-Lorenzo has warned me that he has someone …” The older woman gulped, trailing off as she shakily accepted the pizza boxes and offered him a 10$ tip along with money for the two pizzas. “… unusual coming... I still didn’t expect you. Sorry, for… the misunderstanding….”

Jack gave her a forced smile, not that she could see it. “Water under bridge ma’am. I completely understand.” He said flatly. From his tone, it was very much not ‘water under bridge’. The woman had tried to clobber him as soon as she answered the door, even despite his insistent attempt at defusing the situation and trying to calm her down. At least she has balls. He would give her that much. Must be something all oldies in Crime Alley have.

“Thank you for your patronage! I hope you’ll enjoy your pizza! Have a good night!”

Jack turned around and left without hearing her answer.

The second delivery went marginally better. He was only threatened at gunpoint for ten seconds top by a man smelling of pot, and with a beer belly. At least, he was willing to hear him out and not shoot first then ask questions later.

The third one went well compared to the last two. He rang while saying the purpose of his visit. From there, things proceeded peacefully and he dropped off the client’s two pizzas before going on his merry way.

His fourth delivery was slightly tricky. The client apparently lived on the top floor of a four-story apartment. Problem, the building's front entrance was closed and no amount of ringing would let the inhabitant open their door. He knew for a fact that they were watching him behind their closed curtains. And he wasn’t in the mood to climb up to the top floor from outside to try and deliver their order.

So in the end, he signaled Lorenzo who called the client to inform him that he was there.

Five minutes later, it was a 20-something young man who warily came down to meet him at the front entrance of the building.

Jack traded the pizza for money and the young man ended up giving him a 5$ tip for his trouble.

It was while walking on the sidewalk to get to his last delivery’s address – the place being a short ten-minute walk from where he was – that he registered multiple presences entering in his zone. Four people trying to stealthily trail him. All armed.

He pursed his lips, frowning, as he took note of the weapons in their possession. Two have a gun, another a knife and the last one has a bat. An ambush.

They were planning to ambush him and no amount of talking was going to get him out of this.

‘It was bound to happen,’ Jack idly thought, eyes blazing an ethereal red flame in preparation from the oncoming conflict even as adrenaline started to flood his veins.

It’s been a while since he got some action. And not of the life-threatening kind where he felt like his contribution was insignificant in face of the adversary. Instead… he was going to have a light scuffle with some unpowered goons.

‘Lovely.’

Jack abruptly stopped.

And waited on site.

He observed them as they stopped too, seemingly hesitating to follow him. But he wasn’t deterred by their shyness and patiently waited for them to gather the nerve and courage to show themselves.

After a tense minute – for them – they finally decided to approach him.

As they came into view, Jack smiled. “Good evening, gentlemen. How can I help you?” And greeted them.