Stitches settled onto an old bench; half ripped away from the concrete underneath it. He blew air through his teeth trying to calm down from the previous encounter, “what the hell is with the people here? Don’t they have better things to do than screw with new contracts?”

His thoughts turned to Maribel. He leaned forward onto his knees and dug at his teeth with his thumbnail “What do they plan to do?”

His brow furrowed, he thought of her when they asked for weak links. He didn’t want to think of her, but she showed him a fearful face when the guard had his fun with them. He couldn’t lie to himself; Maribel had a feeble look about her. A wave of guilt ran over him as he remembered her thankful expression.

“Did he read my mind or something?” he groaned, “No way that’s stupid”. He thought about pale-eyes; during that whole encounter his eyes wouldn’t break away from him even once. “Maybe… they were just trying to screw with me…”

He shook the thoughts out of his head and ripped the box open. Inside was a briefcase and a bunch of wadded up newspaper seemingly used as packing material. He dug around to search for anything besides the briefcase sitting in the box before kicking it away and laying the briefcase on his lap. He tore off a sealed envelope taped securely to the front and leaned back onto the bench before using his fingernails to rip it open. Stitches smiled as he read it; it was from his closest friends back home. They tracked down most of his stashed equipment and pitched in to send him some money. He paused at the bottom carefully reading a hand written note from his old employer, “Severance pay?” He carefully folded up the letter and placed it into his manual for safekeeping.

His fingers clicked away the latches of the briefcase and tossed the lid open. As his eyes focused on the contents inside, he quickly grabbed the lid and slammed the briefcase shut. His eyes darted around his sides and he spun around to check behind him. He slowed down and carefully examined each window from the surrounding buildings before taking a breath. “Fuckin hell guys, I didn’t think you loved me that much” he slowly opened the case again and took a stack of bills.

He flipped through the money quickly counting. A greedy smile formed on his lips as he held the three straps of cash. He picked up the edge of his old body armor and stuffed it underneath. He retrieved his pistol from its holster and pulled back the slide to find the chamber empty. He pulled out the magazine and found it too to be empty. His hands fumbled through the brief case hoping to find some ammo to load but he was disappointed, “toy with no batteries,” he sighed.

His hands brushed the guns parts and he found it to be significantly tuned up and worked on, “shoulda told em I had my eyes on a prettier piece,” he mumbled before storing it back in the holster and stuffing it into his pocket. He retrieved his buck knife and then inspected the armor, looking for tears or deformities in the Kevlar.

He also found a small case and opened it to find a pair of aviators, not resisting the urge to put them on “Hah! Cool.”

He tossed the glasses back into the briefcase and shut it before standing up and pulling the manual from his pocket, “time to get geared up,” he exclaimed as he looked for a page about equipment acquisition.

As he realized the difficulty of flipping pages with one hand, he stuffed the book back into his pocket, “Ok, maybe we’ll do the house thing first.”

A blast of air-conditioned wind hit him in the face as he opened the front door to HQ. A couple metamorphs sat about the waiting room. To his surprise he recognized all of them from the bus including Saul. In the light of the overhead fluorescents Stitches was able to distinguish his features much better. Saul had a tough looking face with brown curly hair draping his forehead. He wore a tank top with the sides cut further down to make room for his second set of arms. While sizing up his muscles, Stitches noticed the rough texture of his skin. It looked tough, not tough enough to stop a bullet but maybe enough to stop a blade. As he approached the man at the reception desk, he was surprised at the sheer frustration present on his face that soured even further as he stepped up.

The man’s face contorted into an abominable mix of anger and forced smile as he asked, “Can I help you?”

“I wanna get the apartment option.”

“Contract number?”

“Stitches 886” he spoke, hoping he wouldn’t have to deal with the previous embarrassment.

“Tsk” the man typed away at his laptop “you have 4 ahead of you, take a seat.”

Stitches sat next to Saul who was hurriedly flipping through pages of his manual with an angry look on his face, “Hey Saul.”

Saul looked up briefly, “Oh, it’s you. Hey,” his mood worstened as he got back to his search.

“Whatcha looking for?”

“Idk that human hemorrhoid over there won’t give me an appointment unless I give him a contact number but he won’t tell me how to do that! Then every time I ask, he takes sweet fucking pleasure in verbally lashing me!” his face twitched as he flipped through the pages in seething contempt.

“Oh, you go to the back cover and put the first 3 letters of your name in front of the number at the bottom. That’s your number”

Saul immediately yanked the back-cover page open almost ripping the spine off the book as the man at the desk spun to shoot a ferocious glare at Stitches.

Stitches met his glare with his own that read, “Remember last night asshole?”

Saul flew out of his chair and snatched a pen from the desk before quickly carving the letters into the cover. He shoved it into the receptionists face “Read it asshole! Write down my fucking appointment and weep you shitweasel fucking mother-“

“CERTAINLY SIR!” the receptionist screamed at the top of his lungs before quite literally smashing the keys with his fingers “5 AHEAD OF YOU! PLEASE HAVE A SEAT!” A metamorph passed the desk from the hallway and cocked her head at the odd display, “NEEEXT!”

Saul crashed down into his seat with a satisfied grin on his face.

Stitches laughed, “You must really get under his skin.”

He sneered, “Can’t imagine why.”

“So, what are you trying to get?”

“My parents gave me a bit of money to help while I was here. I was hoping to get upgraded to one of the better buildings,” he sighed, “no way am I gonna get enough cash together to live in that apartment option for long.”

Stitches almost wanted to brag about the money he was given but thought against it. “I think I can handle it, but I’d need some capable people backing me up if I want to hit those high pay jobs.”

Saul scratched his chin, “Are you putting a group together? I can bring some decent skills to the table if you are.”

Stitches thought for a moment and decided to use a little of the negotiating skills he picked up back home, “What can you do?”

He flexed his right arms, “I lift weights a lot so I’m pretty strong, with my upper set I can almost get a 305 bench press!”

“Strength matters, but not as much as experience. What can you do in a fight?”

“Uh… I mean I’ve been in a couple scraps, I guess… and I watch a lot of kung-fu movies!”

Stitches stared and kept an unimpressed face.

“I have thick skin? I’ve never tested it but someone once tried to cut me and I didn’t bleed very much…”

“…”

Saul’s voice began to shake slightly, “Uhh my dad taught me how to use a gun and…”

Stitches cut him off, “listen if there’s an opening I’ll consider it.”

Saul felt some sweat on his face; the man in front of him was wearing a red striped jumpsuit. From the bus he remembered the way they approached. Jittery guards followed them like an entourage, holding their guns at the ready to fire on their backs. When they finally climbed aboard, one look into their violent eyes let him know they were leagues apart in killing instinct. If he was going to survive in this place, he needed someone strong.

“I-I can put money down!”

Stitches heard what he wanted to hear, “Oh, you’re a real team spirit kinda guy aren’t you?” he smiled

“Y-yea…” he didn’t want to play that card, but sleeping without air conditioning was better than meeting a grisly end by the hands of the mutants he’d read so much about.

Stitches offered a hand, “You’re in,” a satisfied smile crossed his face.

Saul’s face lit up, “Great!” he happily shook his hand.

An agitated voice came from the desk, “Next”

 

Stitches entered a small office and sat in the chair across from a suited woman with a bored expression on her face. He recognized her as the Vic woman from the day he arrived. She had an intimidating aura around her that Stitches couldn’t help but be staggered by.

“Uh” he cleared his throat, and wondered if karmic justice was real, “I’d like to upgrade to the apartment option.”

Vic’s eyebrow raised and her expression changed from bored to irritated, “You know how much it costs per week right?”

To her surprise Stitches answered, “Yes,” and she passed a contract across the desk. Stitches scanned through it but his heart skipped a beat as he read the prices listed “These aren’t the ones from the book…”

Vic sighed, “Let me see your manual.”

He fished it from his pocket but before he could say anything it was snatched from his hands and being flipped through by Vic.

She shut the book and slid it back towards him, “Your manual wasn’t updated by the previous owner,” she flipped a pen in her fingers, “When we change building assignment or prices, we request that contracts update their manuals but I guess yours either got killed or just didn’t feel like it that day,” she tapped the contract with the pen, “that’s the price for the apartment upgrade.”

Stitches grimaced and scratched his neck. “Give me sec here.”

Vic sighed and leaned back in her chair.

Stitches would’ve preferred to have the apartment to himself, but the new prices changed things. He did the math roughly in his head and concluded that he’d have to share with at least 3 more people to make it work. “Ill sign it,” he groaned as he flipped through the money in his briefcase.

Vic signed the contract under Stitches number and signature, then shut it in a file before burying it in a stack of paperwork. She unlocked a drawer in her desk and handed him a key with a Prospector Corp keychain “Floor 3 room 6”

“Thanks” Stitches emptily replied, he didn’t think spending that money would hurt so much. He walked out towards his new apartment; briefcase noticeably lighter in his hands.