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Left Behind

Chapter 1

-Jack-

What had gone wrong? Of course it had been Clarkson. The idiot was just an accident waiting to happen and it had and now he was laying alone in the warehouse, his blood pooling all around him. I didn't feel sorry for him. Anyone who just jumps and shoots at a stray cat the way he did deserved what came to him. It was supposed to be quiet and it had been up to that point.

It wasn't just Clarkson that was dead either. Derek had taken one in the eye and I could still hear Cecil's wailing in my mind. It had been terrible when his balls had been shot off. There had been nothing to do but run. That... that I did feel bad about. The boy, that was what he was, the boy Cecil had been calling out for his mother when I and the others turned our backs and ran.

We ran out of the warehouse that had stored over five hundred millions worth of drugs, our thermite unset still. Hark's goons chased us out and they were still coming. The occasional shot and near miss reminded me of that as I put each foot in front of the other on the concrete pavement of the wharf.

God, my heart was pounding as I passed under the dim yellow lights that hung over the other warehouses that line the wharf. I counted out the numbers of them as I passed.

"B-4. B-3"

I just had to get past B-1 and then I would be in Ragam's territory. Anyone could pass through his territory, but fighting wasn't allowed and everyone followed that one rule. It wasn't good business to cross Ragam in a bad way. No, not even Hark's dumb fuckers would do that.

I was getting close. I ignored the pain building in my chest as every inch of my body begged for more air. How long had it been since I had gotten out of shape. There had been a time when I could have ran the entire length of the waterside without getting winded. That was a decade ago, now thus thirty-seven year old man was feeling like he was going to keel over at any moment.

I didn't though. I could see the faded blue paint on the side of the next warehouse.

"B-2"

Another gunshot rang out, reminded me and the others that we were far from safe.

I cursed and blindly fired behind me with the small snubbed nose pistol I always carried. It was useless at range, but I just needed to keep the thugs from feeling that they weren't in any danger either. It would keep then from shooting too much. Even the most innacurate ape got lucky and I was reminded of that as a return fire poked a hole in my jacket right under my armpit.

That got a little more pep in my step and I found myself at the head of my motley little group. There were four of us left and we all ran together as we finally rounded the corner of warehouse B-1.

Even though we were theoretically safe, we didn't stop until I couldn't even smell the rotted fish of the ocean anymore. Instead, I could smell smog and cheap cooking oil coming from a local burger shop that catered to the late night crowd, promising cheap food and even cheaper beer. It was tempting, I was feeling famished and in need of a drink, but this failure couldn't be put off till morning. Boss had to know.

There was no trouble as me and the others crossed Ragam's territory, though Ragam's men made it very clear they were watching us. A few guys that followed us from a distance the moment we entered the territory, but faded away as soon as we left the territory and entered the familiar grounds that belonged to Willard.

Willard 'Willy' Craddock was a mean son-of-a-bitch, possibly the meanest, but he was my boss and so I led us all deep into home territory, located downtown where the buildings reached for the sky and seemingly touched them as well. It was up there that the well of lived and work. They zipped around above in their chrome flying cars and rail mounted bullet trains. I bet none of them have ever been within a hundred meters of the ground, but that wasn't my concern.

The Ground was where I was born, was where I worked and was where I would die one day. It was crowded here where those who worked for those above lived in dirty tenements and it was where Craddock had made his fortune selling anything that would let people forget where they were for a moment. It was the prime territory and made the other Under-Lords, as they liked go call themselves, jealous. Others would bring in new kinds of drugs from the Orient to the east or even psychedelics from the Afrikaan Kingdoms to the south. Whatever it was they brought, they brought it to draw out the millions that Craddock had under his control and steal them. Craddock was just as jealous and so it had been my job to burn out the competition, literally.

That hadn't happened and I'd rather Craddock learned that from me instead of one of the many other underlings that would undoubtably tell him to ensure their continued favor to suckle at whatever teet they thought was going to be offered.

We reached Craddock's place. It looked simple enough, a single door that led into the bottom of one the towering skyscrapers. There were guards of course, hundreds, but they didn't make themselves known or seen because to be seen would attract attention and if there was one thing that Craddock was scared of and rightly so, it was the attention of Above. The rich liked to live rich and only rich. They wouldn't blink an eye to have Craddock killed and were even trying since having staff show up stoned out of their minds to work reminded them that the filth of the Ground existed. So, Craddock hid himself well.

I knocked once on the door, a steel thing with a slotted window that slid open revealing only a one way window.

I looked at the window dead on and didn't blink as the scanner behind it read my face and compared it to a list of those allowed in.

After a moment, the door slid open and a very large man stood there. He was covered in tattoos, depicting all kinds of sexual acts between just women. His head was bald and a rose was depicted across his scalp down the left side of his face.

"Just you," he snorted and spat out a wad of phlegm, barely missing my shoes. "The other's can wait across the street. He nodded to a small taco shop that made regular protection payments that it also managed to make back by selling tacos at a discounted price to Craddock's men. In reality, it was probably one of the most successful places on the Ground in this part of the city.

"I'll be back soon," I said to the others, who to be honest, I didn't even know the names of. They had been new faces. The only ones that I had known were dead at the wharf.

They shrugged and left me with the big bouncer, who sniffed and stepped aside and ushered me in.

Inside was what one would expect of a crime boss's home. While the outside had been dingy, the inside was anything but. My shoes touched marble and I breathed in filtered air, free of pollution. Walls were covered in fine art and paintings, however it wasn't into more opulence that was taken.

Past rooms that held more value than I knew a single person could own, even after spending a lifetime looking Above, was where the operation was.

Rooms were filled with people laboring over weights and scales, measuring out precise amounts to of all manner of narcotics to be packaged and sent out to all corners of the territory. The air became more thick and carried the smell of ozone that signed the back of the nose. The marble floors had long since given way to concrete and patterned metal and at the heart of it all was the throne.

The room wasn't necessarily large, but it was imposing with a high ceiling and a large well like hole in its center. Guards stood on catwalks that hugged the sides. Lighting was dim and made shadows cling to every corner. On the far side sat Craddock.

He was a small man in stature, not at all what one would expect, but what he lacked in size, he made up in cunning and pure brutality.

He sat with his feet kicked up on a leather ottoman and lounged back on a very soft and comfortable couch. His red hair was slicked back and shined and his grin showed a grill of gold teeth. His jacket of silk barely made a noise when he sat upright at my appearance.

"Jack," he said and with a swish of his hand, waved me over.

I did not hesitate, Craddock didn't like to be kept waiting.

"Boss," I said, stopping just shy of the steps that led up to him. Another thing was, he didn't want others looking down on him, figuratively or literally. "I- I've come to report on the mission."

His eyebrow raised a little and he chuckled. "I can see that there isn't a fire at the wharf."

I cringed inwardly. "We were found out there and chased out. I lost three men." I wringed my hands together. They were sweaty. I could feel every set of eyes in the room on my. They were hungry.

"And so Ragam continues to steal my customers?"

I didn't speak. I didn't have an answer that I thought appropriate and so I kept quiet and averted my eyes to my feet as Craddock stood up from his seat.

Foot steps echoed as the man slowly walked down from his throne.

My heart thudded in my chest so loudly that I was afraid that Craddock could hear it. I knew what happened to failures. It was exactly what everyone here was hoping to see, except me. I was hoping that that rare occurrence of mercy would happen to me.

"There are other ways," Craddock said and clapped me on my shoulder.

I jumped and looked up to see that gold grin.

He laughed and a nervous chuckled was echoed by the others in the room.

"Did you know that there's thousands of miles of tunnels beneath our feet?" Craddock turned me around and though he was shorter, I bent over so he could wrap and arm around my shoulders.

"Uhh, no," I said, feeling a little better, but still very much nervous. This was not what I was expecting. I had been expecting a screaming fest and maybe a beating at best before being tossed back to the street.

"I had some of the guys digging around to make tunnels to try and get our stuff to the other side of the city," Craddock explained as he walked me to the well. It went down so far that it was impossible to tell where the bottom was. It just went down to blackness and I was forced to hold onto the hand rail to fight the sense of vertigo as Craddock and I peered down it.

"They stumbled onto a whole 'nother city down there as if this one we live in was just built on top of it. They tell me all kinds of things about the people that live there. Crazy things. So crazy that I feel that I should go and take a proper look myself at some point. Animal people is what they tell me, can you believe it?" He shook my shoulders.

"Sounds... sound pretty wild," I replied back to him, holding on tightly to that rail. Heights were never my thing and I was shaking.

"Wild. That's a word. I was thinking more like fucking brilliant." He let me go and raised up his hands, now speaking to everyone in the room. "I don't care what kind of people or things are down there, all I see is a new market. Fuck Ragam and his wharf. Fuck all of em. We'll go down."

There was a collective murmuring of agreement from everyone and some one echoed the "fuck Ragam." That got more cheers of approval.

"Yeah," Craddock was smiling widely as he took in the applause and cheers. "Fuck em." He then turned back to me. "They say it's all kinds of animal people. Cats, birds and dogs. That got me thinking. Know what?"

I shook my head, feeling more enthusiastic that this whole thing had completely eclipsed my failure.

"Dogs. Crazy. It's appropriate, y'know. Dogs beneath us. They deserve to be beneath us." He looked me in the eyes and the smile was gone. "Like you."

Suddenly I felt a sharp pain in my back right between the shoulders.

I arched back and was spun around to see that one of the guards had stabbed me as he back off, a bloody switch blade and a wicked grin on his face.

My knees felt weak and I leaned back against the rail, unable to breathe or do anything as Craddock walked up to me. He leaned in.

"You fuckin ballsed it up good," he hissed at me. "It don't matter what's beneath us either. Don't care because Ragam is stealing from me and that can't stand. No one steals from me."

I tried to speak, to explain everything. It wasn't my fault, but I could only gurgle.

Craddock prodded me in the chest. "You might as well have given Ragam my money yourself. So, I'm tossing you out like an unwanted dog." He placed the palm of his hand on my chest. "Now go to your kind."

He shoved me. For a man of such small size, he was strong and there was a moment of weightlessness before I realized I was falling, tumbling head over heels as I went over the rail and down the well.