The Alley

Sometime after dinner, Karr overheard his father talking in that grand, secretive way he always did when he was convinced of something very important. Karr learned long ago that pressing his ear against the door led to him getting caught. So instead he played video games outside the door and tried to listen in as best as he could. Something about his sister going to stay with Aunt Valia. Again.

This happened every now and then when his dad was convinced the newest conspiracy theory was true. 

When the Marrowthirst virus first came out their father had spent three full days pacing in the living room, proclaiming that the DCC was full of bumbling incompetents, and the next thing Karr knew, he and his sister were packed off to their grandmother's house, where they'd spent two weeks eating slightly burnt pastries. 

Then there was that business about a civil war. Karr wasn't sure if one had actually started, but at fourteen and three-quarters years old, he found himself abruptly relocated to Uncle Emrin's dusty attic, where the only form of entertainment had been an old typewriter that sometimes produced ominous messages on its own.

It was now late at night, and Karr was sitting by himself in his and his sister's workshop. The workshop—if one could even call it that—was a strange, lopsided mix of storefront and laboratory. His sister – the responsible one– had once tried to make it look professional, going so far as to paint a sign outside that read:

"Imani & Co. Custom Inventions – No Refunds, No Regrets."

A few customers actually took it seriously.

He tugged his coat tighter around himself as the wind blew through the open storefront wall to his left. Now and then, there would be someone who came around asking for some absurdly niche but ridiculously cheap invention. Recently, there had been an interestingly shaped woman who wanted a nickel-chromium watch that would tell when you would die but was only willing to pay in "services." 

Karr recalled saying something problematic after hearing her pitch but made it anyway. Tonight, however, there were no ridiculous requests, no haggling over his inventions. Just Karr, the wind, and the faint hope that nothing would explode

The front counter, which was supposed to be for business, was buried under half-finished projects, old receipts, and a single clock that ticked counterclockwise. A chalkboard menu hung on the wall, listing vague services like:

Custom Gadgets – Priced by Risk Factor

Repairs – If It Was Your Fault, It Costs Extra

Special Orders – Ask, But We Might Laugh First

His breath made clouds in the evening air. He grabbed another wire and listened to the ambiance of the world around him: steam hissing through pipes, a couple of kids playing with a can in the streets somewhere, the two grandpas just outside his workshop complaining about how the new generation were basically robots at this point. He gave them an awkward wave. He also heard a patrol drone that whirred past overhead, scanning the street before lazily drifting away.

Finally, he switched off the soldering iron and grinned. He and his sister's newest invention was finally done —the hydro jumper. He mused at the possibility of him being able to jump 13 feet high. At the heart of it all sat the hydroxilator, a small machine that broke down water molecules to power his inventions. 

He poured water into a large jug and strapped it onto his back. He plugged the tube from the jug into the input port on his boot. Then he shoved his foot into the boot, grabbed a remote controller, and went outside into the alleyway. 

Karr took a deep breath, feeling the cold bite at his face as he closed the door and jogged into the narrow alley behind their building. 

"Whelp, here goes nothing."

He braced himself and pressed the button. 

Click. 

Nothing happened. Karr sighed, "Godamnit, what happpennneddd! You were supposed to work first tr–"

Then suddenly he heard the ratchet catching the gear, pulling back the reinforced spring, and before he realized what was happening, BOOM. 

He launched up into the air, 

"Oh my GOD, it works!" he shouted, arms flailing in elation.

'Six feet, seven feet—Wait. How high was that—?'

'Oh shit—OH NO, NOOOOO—'

CRASH!

Karr found himself crumpled on the ground, groaning. "Aghh... that was stupid. I definitely should've thought about that."

He heard a window open, and then his sister, 

"BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA." She was almost crying at this point. "Oh my god, are you okay?" she asked as she wiped the tears from her face.

"Oh screw off will you?" though there was a faint grin creeping onto his face, "It worked, so I don't wanna hear it from you!" He shouted back. 

"Whatever you say, idiot," she chuckled before slamming the window shut.

For a moment, Karr lay there, just listening. 

He hadn't noticed it at first, but now he couldn't ignore it.

The city was silent. No kids playing. No old men bickering. No salespeople shouting. No security drones humming overhead.

'Huh, I thought they never turned off the billboards? '

He checked his watch, '23:36' 

'Strange'  

He stood up, wincing in pain. He shoved his hands into his pockets. The door to the workshop was still open. He could go back inside.

Then, he heard the clank of a metal boot.

Karr glanced toward the street. A man stepped out of the shadows.

Karr didn't move.

The man kept walking toward him. 

Clank Clank Clank 

Karr's body tensed. His fingers curled around the pliers in his pocket.

"Hey, uh—are you looking for someone?"

No answer.

"If it's, uh… Ralph, he's three blocks down."

The man kept walking.

"Yeah, Ralph steals stuff all the time," Karr forced a laugh. "Total scumbag."

Still nothing.

"I mean, yeah, if someone messed with you… It was probably Ralph."

The man stopped just a few feet away. His eyes were dark.

Then there was a shout from behind him.

"Karr!"

He turned. His dad was standing in the doorway, face grim.

"Get inside," his dad said.

He stepped inside the workshop, seeing his sister frantically packing things into a bag. 

"Karr." She hissed, "We need to go. Now."

She wasn't looking at him—her hands were moving too fast, shoving things into a bag, fingers fumbling over the zipper. It caught. She cursed under her breath and yanked at it hard enough that the whole bag jerked sideways.

Karr stared. "Imani? What the hell is happening? Wha—"

She turned, eyes flashing. "Come on, Karr." Her voice wavered just slightly. "We're in danger."