Amea Virou
Snowbound
The night was getting on with age. It was dark, and yet it was still full of neon. Dulled lights from the main street bathed this particular back alley with a vast spectrum of colors that seemed to change and shift with each beat that blared from beyond the thick durasteel walls of a nearby drug den. For the last five minutes Amea had been hot on the tail of this particularly stubborn errand boy. While she considered herself a most capable runner, this chase was one that had seen the two lovebirds push through from one close call to the other before it all finally came to a head in this very spot.
And that was to say quite literally so. Though he had tried to swipe at her — with a modicum of success to boot — she had finally found herself in a spot to end this. With her hands latched onto the man’s shoulders in a vice-like grip Amea would place her forehead against his nose with a speed unlike anything he had ever felt before. The man fell over limp yet clearly conscious and Amea would finally allow herself the chance to simply breathe.
The stench of trash was hard to miss. With each breath for air that Amea would heave for she felt the taste of week-old shrimp linger on her tongue. The back of her thumb smeared the blood that poured from her nose across her cheek, but at least it kept it from reaching between her lips. Her eyes began to wander around the alley to take in the miserable sights before she finally peered over her shoulder to try and find her partner.
No doubt all he would have to do to find her was to follow the trail of chaos that they had left in their wake. She preferred a more subtle approach, but when a man such as the one currently unconscious held the type of information that he held she was willing to make an exception. Besides that the original plan had gone south roughly an hour ago at this point. The fact that they had their target in a state to be retrieved at all was a miracle in the first place.
And so there Amea stood, hunched over something that could be mistaken for a corpse as she heaved for air and tended to her bleeding.
And that was to say quite literally so. Though he had tried to swipe at her — with a modicum of success to boot — she had finally found herself in a spot to end this. With her hands latched onto the man’s shoulders in a vice-like grip Amea would place her forehead against his nose with a speed unlike anything he had ever felt before. The man fell over limp yet clearly conscious and Amea would finally allow herself the chance to simply breathe.
The stench of trash was hard to miss. With each breath for air that Amea would heave for she felt the taste of week-old shrimp linger on her tongue. The back of her thumb smeared the blood that poured from her nose across her cheek, but at least it kept it from reaching between her lips. Her eyes began to wander around the alley to take in the miserable sights before she finally peered over her shoulder to try and find her partner.
No doubt all he would have to do to find her was to follow the trail of chaos that they had left in their wake. She preferred a more subtle approach, but when a man such as the one currently unconscious held the type of information that he held she was willing to make an exception. Besides that the original plan had gone south roughly an hour ago at this point. The fact that they had their target in a state to be retrieved at all was a miracle in the first place.
And so there Amea stood, hunched over something that could be mistaken for a corpse as she heaved for air and tended to her bleeding.