The rushing wave of brisk morning air enveloped Baba as she ascended along the retracting line of her grappling gun. The swift sensation like a gentle breeze massaged the sides of her face, and graced her with the onset of a second wind to which she had grown all too accustomed over the years. A shell of vigor would embolden her as her feet landed on the lofting rooftop above, and the encampment she had huddled The Lost into came into view just a couple of leaps away. Not missing a beat in the process, she holstered the grappling hook, and stepped away from the ledge.
She stopped only for a second to double check the well-being of a rather sizable package that she had carried all the way from the main strip of Metro Street. To her comfort, it was still secure and in one piece; she was thankful that the bag had good handles. A deep breath brought in a warm, savory aroma alongside the cool highrise air. The resulting rumble in her stomach prompted a self-affirming nod, and the resuming of her trek that was now in its home stretch.
A tapping together of her heels, and the airblades that had idly adorned her shins activated, elevating her a good foot above the ground. Gripping onto the package more firmly, she began carving circles around the flat of the rooftop. Each hovering stride brought with it an uptick in momentum.
One… Two… she counted along as she made successive laps.
Three… Four… she was just about ready.
Five! Baba reached her needed speed. Carrying that speed, she cut out of the circling movement, and cut straight towards the edge of the building in the direction of the next flat.
The leap was calculated. She had meticulously tested it not too long ago; it was a necessity for setting up camp in a new spot.
Just as she anticipated, her laps had generated the required speed from which she could make the jump. She landed smoothly upon the next top, and seamlessly continued her strides as she cleared the next gap. The next after that was just as easy.
Finally, the last bound was before her. She whipped forward. She took the leap… she would make the jump… Almost.
Maybe she had miscalculated her own speed; or she was more fatigued than she had realized. Either way, her hangtime dipped sooner than she had expected. Rather than her feet touching down upon solid ground, she fell into what seemed an inevitable drop back down to the alleyways far below.
If not for a timely, and gritty grasping of the top ledge with her free hand, Baba’s story might have been cut short. Almost immediately after her hand clasped the rough exterior, a face appeared from above. The person offered a hand for Baba to take. Instead, Baba summoned her strength to hoist up the package into the outstretched hand of her would-be rescuer. “Take it!” she shouted. The other person obliged without question, taking up the bag by the handles. Her other hand freed, Baba pulled herself up and over the ledge and onto the rooftop where she rolled down to the floor and leaned against the wall behind her as her breath eased.
“That was a close one,” she chuckled to the redheaded girl that stood over her, still holding the bag.
“Thanks for the assist, Iommi.” “Don’t mention it.” Iommi had set the bag down and pulled it open. “But next time,” she reached into the box within the bag, and pulled out white cup with a red outline of a mountain with the name “Shimazu” in bold font at its base. “Maybe save yourself before you save the food.”
Baba gave no retort beyond a single, hearty laugh before getting back on her feet.
“How was the night?” she asked, dusting herself off.
“Went well enough. We layed low like you said. A few of the kids tried to sneak out, but we talked some sense into them.
“Good.”Baba looked past Iommi and upon the cluster of tarps and tents under which the rest of their Sk8ters remained asleep for the time being. The Lost… a hodgepodge of the Megacity’s abandoned, disowned, and orphaned youth, had come under Baba’s stewardship after a long run through other Sk8te Cells, most of which had since disbanded and faded to nothing but memories for those that had been a part of them. This morning, the Cell was in rare form; some forty people, tucked in peacefully as Baba and Iommi looked over them, constituted the entirety of The Lost. It was a miracle in Baba’s mind that they were all together in one place after being scattered about over the week prior. Even if it would only be for a day or two before some other Sk8te Cell pushed them out, she could rest easy knowing that everyone was alive and well before branching out to continue their hunt for a legitimate home.
“We can’t keep doing this, Baba.” Iommi broke the silence.
Baba cocked her head towards her friend. Her mouth opened, but the words hung just inside her lips.
“If we keep moving this way, we’ll be at the Outer Run before we find a place to settle.”
Baba threw her eyes away from Iommi, and outward into the urban horizon. The city spanned outward for hundreds of miles, such that the most distant rooftops fell into the veil of distance and out of view. Still visible though, and marking Iommi’s concern, was the wall within which the city was enclosed. The Outer Run was the last layering of structures before one reached the wall. It wasn’t a common place for Sk8ters to operate, as it was too far from any hubs of activity; the Cells that were there were as cut-throat as the Demonio, and as roughneck as The Pack. Few Sk8ters from the inner city ventured there, Baba included despite the extent to which she had surveyed the city in the past two years.
“I know. You’re right.” Baba snapped out of her trance and met eyes with Iommi. So much as her will and adrenaline could keep her going, there was no masking the reality that Baba O’Reilly was beyond exhausted by the constant moving, as was the rest of her Cell.
“I-” Baba’s next sentence was cut off by an abrupt humming from her Sk8ter specs. The Skynet was buzzing with activity. She lowered her specs and sifted through the stream of reports from the other Sk8ters.
“Looks like something’s got everyone rattled,” she said while holding back a yawn.
“All of Hotshot’s crew is scrambling. Damn!” “What is it?” Iommi asked, pressing the question.
“Trouble,” Baba returned pointedly.
“We gotta get the others up. Looks like we might have to cut our stay here shorter than we’d hoped for.” Baba fiddled with her specs until a marker showed up over her coordinates atop the Halcyon Building. She swallowed heavily as she did so; she had, afterall, ordered The Lost go off-grid for a short while. With the activity on the Net being at a fever pitch, it would only be a matter of time before someone would have to come looking for them. Even as she hoped it was all just Afterburn flexing or going out on a major job, she felt an uneasiness that pointed towards something more. As Iommi rallied up the other Sk8ters, Baba looked out in the direction of Metro Street, scanning to skyway for the eventual emissary.
Regardless, whatever was happening, they’d stick together this time.
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