C_P_Tuck

Hey all. Sorry for missing a day yesterday. I've just started a new job, and I was too tired yesterday to do much typing. I'll try to not let it happen again. Hope you're enjoying the story so far, and that you enjoy what I continue to put out. Much love!

The taxi pulled up to the curb about a block away from The Nook Inn, in front of a small corner convenience store. I’d stepped in to buy a coffee, just to make sure the card worked. It had, so I changed the order to the largest cup they sold and sipped on it gratefully as I waited outside.

The driver honked to get my attention and rolled down his window.

“You Silas?” He asked. As I nodded, he gestured to the back seat. “Hop in.”

I pulled the back door open and slipped in. The interior of the vehicle reeked of stale cigarettes, alcohol, and vomit. Still, it would take me another hour at least to call a new one, so I chose to bear with it. I set my coffee, already half-empty into the cupholder, and pulled my Reaper credit card out.

“Where ya headed, kid?” The guy asked, putting a hand on the headrest of the passenger side as he turned to look at me.

“Uh,” I hesitated. I didn’t really know where I wanted to go. “I got a few places I gotta be.”

He frowned at me, clearly suspicious. “Where first?”

“Whatever big store is closest,” I answered. “Then to a realtor’s office.”

His eyes narrowed further. “Pay upfront.”

“What?” I asked, surprised. Nobody paid for cabs upfront. Cabbies only charged you like that if they thought you might run for it. But to be fair, I was kinda suspicious-looking. Then I realized that I might have other things to do that day, and shrugged.

“Alright,” I said. “But we’ll have to go to a bank first so I can pull money out.”

“Which bank?”

I pulled the credit card out and looked at it properly. It had the word Gray Bank International on it, so that’s what I told the driver. He hesitated a moment, then nodded, and pulled the car out and into traffic. To my surprise, he made a U-turn, and pulled alongside The Nook Inn.

“This is a hotel,” I pointed out. “I wanted to go to the bank.”

“There is a bank inside,” he said, pointing towards the doors. “Bank owns the hotel.”

“Oh,” I said slowly. “Alright then, just give me a moment.”

I walked back into the building through the right doors and found myself once more on the large black and white checkered floor with long red carpets. The secretary was still there, and, seeing me approach, stood with a ready smile.

“Back so soon, Apprentice Silas?” She asked. “How can I help you?”

“I, uh….” I said, trying to turn my jumbled thoughts into words. “I need cash.”

“Ah, my apologies,” she said, reaching for a drawer in her desk. “Normally, we offer a choice between card and cash when we pay our Reapers. How much would you like from your account?”

Surprised by this rapid and efficient response, I hesitated for a moment, doing some quick thinking. Finally, I said “Ten thousand. Is that okay?”

“Of course!” She said, rifling through the drawer, then handed me a thick envelope. “Here you go!”

I took the envelope with slightly numb fingers. “What’s the fee for withdrawing money?”

She flashed all of her pearly white teeth in a wide smile. “Oh dear, we’re not like those banks that try to get as much money in fees from you as possible. Our Reapers perform a necessary service. No fee whatsoever. I will simply take the ten thousand from your account. And here is my business card.”

“Oh. Thank you,” I said. “What’s the business card for?”

“Well, if you’re in the field, and you need cash delivered to your location quickly,” she explained. “You can call me by applying aura to the card. Tell me how much you need, and I will see it delivered to you within the hour.”

“Really? No matter where I am in the world?”

“Correct.” She smiled again. “The Reaper Clan is quite resourceful, you know.”

“Where does all this money come from, anyway? How can you afford to pay so many people so much?”

“Well,” she said slowly as she closed the drawer to her desk. “The Reaper Clan owns Gray Bank International, which has branches in every major and minor city in the world. Just from the bank fees alone, we generate a lot of income. On top of that, thousands of years of ancestors have created hidden channels for money transfers, which we also own.”

Oh my god, I thought. The Reapers were the one percent. That explained a great deal. Feeling slightly guilty at my new wealth now, I shuffled my feet.

“Still, that’s a lot of money,” I said. “What about all the people in the world that need help?”

She seemed to understand. “Many Reapers feel the same way. While the Reaper Clan itself only cares for the needs of its members, many Reapers donate what they do not spend to the various charities of the world. Some even have famous charities themselves, which are ran by their spouses or close friends.”

“Oh,” I said again, heaving a sigh of relief. “That’s good to hear.”

“Indeed. It’s comforting to know that elite killers can be so philanthropic, isn’t it?”

“It is,” I agreed. “Well, I’ve got a cabbie waiting for me. See you later then?”

“Of course,” The secretary said. “And next time, perhaps you will use one of our personal drivers. They don’t charge you, and they are much easier to get along with.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said. “Bye then.”

She gave me a small wave as I turned and walked out. Reapers nodded at me from every angle again, and some even grinned at me. One flashed me a thumbs-up. It seemed that the story of my first fight had spread far and wide.

The cabbie was looking very impatient as I exited the building. Seeing me exit with an envelope of money in my hand, he heaved a visible sigh of relief. Maybe the guy was just going through some hard times, and was low on money, I thought. That tied in well with my plans. I tapped the passenger-side window, and he rolled it down.

“Ready to go?” He asked.

“Yes,” I said. “But first, what is your name?”

“Seamus,” he said. “And you?”

He seemed much friendlier now that he knew I intended to fully pay. I grinned, feeling more relaxed. “Nice to meet you, Seamus. Alright, here’s your pay for the trip.”

I fished out one of the bands of money in the thick envelope and handed it to him. I knew that each band was a thousand dollars. That should more than pay for his life for the next month, I thought. The expression that came over his face seemed to confirm it.

“I can’t accept this much for a trip or two,” he protested. “Like a hundred bucks is max for pre-pay.”

I waved a hand in dismissal and got back in the back seat. “Don’t worry about it. This way, I don’t have to call a new cab a bunch of times today.”

“Got a lot of shopping to do?”

“You got no clue.”