No Rest For the Wicked

Mathias cracked a bleary hazel eye as his alarm screamed at him into pseudo wakefulness. He had dreamed a lovely dream that he was sleeping in a bed, not a couch. Which had acted as his bed since he could no longer fit in in the coat closet.

The dwelling of the Skye family was nothing short of cramped. Not filled with crap kind of cramped. If anything the Skye home was spartan, with just enough decoration and flair to make the place look both lived in and personal. There was a lot of creative use of space but still … it was home. Still, they needed every inch of space and the matriarch of the house held an iron fist on cleanliness and preventing clutter from taking away what little leg room they had.

No, it was four humans crammed in a one bedroom shoebox kind of cramped. His parents had the privilege of the bedroom, between the dresser and closet it was a tight fit. Mathias himself got the couch, it was a nice couch and his little sister got a mattress that barely fit into the closet that would classically contain the coats.

The grumpy redhead waved at the virtual alarm clock slapping the end table as he mumbled incoherently. It had no effect as it continued to blare. “For the love of GOD! STOP! SNOOZE! DIE! 5 MINUTES.” Mathias said his voice rising with an irritated glare. He didn’t know which command worked and he buried his face in his pillow with a groan.

Weekends and rest were for the rich. For the rest of the shlebs in the Oracle ghetto, it was just another day to get one’s hustle on. While the pay from his proper job was decent, with the weekend also came the opportunity to sell the fruit of his nightly cooking and no he wasn't secretly making pastries.

That was a helluva thought hawking illegal pastries on the streets and clubs. Mathias started to dream about cupcakes and pills as sprinkles when the alarm popped him out of the pleasantness of his surgery pharmaceutical dream. He groaned rolling over. “I’m up, I’m uuuuuuuuuuuuppppp.” he said wearily sitting up.

“I hate you bane of my electronic life.” Mathias said glaring at the virtual alarm. With that, he pushed off to clean up for the day … well … afternoon. His weekend hustle always started late.

His parents and sister were already out and about so he was able to enjoy a rare quiet moment as he cleaned up, shaved and dressed for the clubs. Lastly, he went to scrounge for something to eat in the fridge and was met with disappointment. “Protein paste …” He groaned. “ … not even flavored! Mom your so … stingy.” He gripped taking one to go, he didn’t have any time to cook but there wasn't much to cook at the moment so there it was!

Ah, unflavored protein paste. All texture no flavor mostly use it make sure folk who can barely get by don’t keel over from malnutrition. Best used to bulk up and stretch the little bits of food you could afford but if you're really hurting you can take it straight. It wasn’t pleasant but it was better than going hungry. Besides all them rich folk had to have there janitors and house cleaners healthy and working, right?

Mathias sucked down the tasteless paste, dawned his red and black leather jacket and locking the door behind him before working his way out through the throngs of bodies that made up the Oracle ghetto. There was never space anywhere even outside with an open sky, lord help the claustrophobic.

Mathias wove through the alleys and down what passed for streets in these parts. Virtual signs and ads blinked in and out all around him and the waft of the city street he was so accustomed to assaulted his senses. Street food, garbage, and sweat wafted around in the dry arid air of Mars.

First things first, he had to pick up the product for tonight's work. He wasn’t so dumb as to keep it in the same place where his family lived nor was he amateurish enough to leave his makeshift lab or stash unprotected. No, he had a long stand arrangement with a local Rin-Gang, gang banger wanna be too young to join an actual game that most considered a nuisance. Hence the name which translated to Flea gang. Still, they had there used and in groups could be both dangerous and effective.

It was actually three things that kept the flea biting Rin-Gangs happily loyal, Respect, the occasional credits but more importantly … free medication when one of there number fell sick. Kids abandoned for whatever reason on the street tended to live shorter lives for obvious reasons. Most being cast off unregistered children so at best they would eventually get kicked down to the Hive to be swallowed up into perpetual life in the underbelly of Oracle. That is if you lived through your childhood.

That's what made the Lightning Bugs so protective of there little territory. It was what gave them the advantage over every other Rin-Gang in the Oracle slums. It’s also how he knew his stash and lab remained safe, for the most part, there were no guarantees in life of course but that was the business. He was small time after all.

You would think the ghetto every inch of space would be utilized to squeeze its people and businesses in like chickens in an egg factory. Yet even now where people clamoring for a spot under the sun where plenty of dilapidated building and storage facilities for the truly destitute or with those nowhere else to go short of the Hive to squat.

He stopped at a tiny tightly pack convenience store buying a bag cheap sweets, a couple of handfuls of cheaper ramen packets and a bunch of protein paste of whatever mixed flavors they had on sale. Mathias swiped his wrist over the scanner to pay and moved on.

Mathias knew he was nearly there when he started to see the AR animated tags on the side of various buildings. He was soon approaching a stoop to a small complex in dire need of a power wash and who window on the first floor were all boarded up. On the stoop blocking the entrance was a pair of young teenage boys lazily playing with a VR deck of cards. The one immediately perked on seeing the redhead approach.

“Hey Mat. You coming round late.” The dark haired boy greeted standing.

“It’s the weekend … the twins in?” Mathias asked.

“Already? No twins are out 'n about.” The other boy a dusty blonde added.

Mathis looked between the boys. “When did you guy last eat.”

“Yesterday.” One said.

“This morning.” The other said simultaneously.

“Your both terrible liars. Work on it.” Mathias advised thrusting the care package. The boys looked into the bag hungrily. “Need help cooking?”

“No.” The one boy said defensively.

“Good, I got work to get to.” The man smirked as he sauntered in past the boys. The inside of the building smelled less than fresh, to be fair the place was crawling with nothing but kids and young teens. They did the best they could. He walks through to the enclosed back yard with a corrugated shack was erected. It had at one point benna gardening shed, now it was converted into a ramshackle drug lab!

Mathias had to wonder when he walked in if there wasn’t a single thing in the slums that didn’t feel cramped and tight. Would it feel strange if it wasn’t? Maybe. The drug cook dug through his trunk taking out his messenger bag the kids had taken upon themselves to decorate. It was packed with stickers in the shape of various candies and painted with even more of their favorite candies. Just looking at it would give anyone diabetes but the slow building reputation he developing his becoming a recognized by his regulars. He started to stock his bag with his nightly goodies to sell.

Once his bag was stuffed with adult treats. He made his way back out, the building now filled with the smell of cooking ramen and curry flavored protein paste. The kids were crawling out of the woodwork hovering at the makeshift kitchen. In his honest opinion, they look more like school or piranha with the way they were eye up the cook pots.

Mathias left a little faster than he would like to admit. Ideally before David Attenborough started narrating the hunting habits of the flea biting street rat and the wild ramen packet and protein paste of Mars.

Time to make the rounds.