safety of their homes at the first sign the evening storms brewed on the horizon. As always, they would hit hard, and I would have to run at a good clip to make it to my home before Mother Nature swiped at Tulsa yet again.
Making use of the maintenance tunnels below the streets might get me caught, but getting caught beat contracting a serious case of death. Shifting again would create problems for me, although I could mitigate the worst of overusing my magic with rest. If the weather kept souring, most would shelter through tomorrow rather than head to the bars. I’d play it by ear and play it safe.
Brent would rather be short a waitress for a day than need to bury yet another body.
I made it several blocks before Tulsa’s sirens blared, warning residents it was time to take shelter. I ducked into an alley with a maintenance cover, scrambled into the service shaft, and yanked the metal plate back into place. I dropped to the tunnel floor, tense while waiting and listening for anyone else, but all remained silent. Breathing a sigh of relief, I shifted, thanking my lucky stars yet again my odd brand of magic transformed everything I owned with me.
Losing the little I had would have made life a lot harder.
Rain hammered the streets above, and water dripped in through the holes, running into the drains to be purified and used by Asylum’s fortunate residents or dumped into the sewer system.
I ran for the relative safety of home, aware of the dulled sound of the sirens outside, audible even below the streets.
It disturbed me no one else dared to shelter below the streets. How many lives would be spared each night if only the tunnels were made accessible to all? My thoughts disturbed me, and I fled to the hive of air vents. I scrambled into the one leading to my new home, my claws clicking on the thick metal. I controlled my descent with help from the rough material adhered to the shaft’s bottom. The jump down to the floor hurt, as did shifting yet again. I tasted blood in my mouth, all the warning I needed to understand I pushed my luck.
Tomorrow, I’d sacrifice my paycheck and rest, and I’d send word through a runner if I could. I might not, depending on the weather. While I caught up on sleep and explored my new home, I’d reflect on everything I’d lost by fleeing from the East. I’d kept my freedom, but I risked throwing away my life in exchange. I considered the choices I’d made, shrugged, and turned on the flashlight so I could explore my new home.
While faint, I could hear the rumble of Mother Nature winding up to give Tulsa yet another beating.
Poor Tulsa.
I could only hope she had some mercy for everyone, although the start of the storm season didn’t bode well for anyone. Could even Asylum survive through what Mother Nature lobbed at us? While protected from the weather, Asylum needed supplies.
If the storms took out the tracks and trains, even Asylum’s residents would starve.
A slow death through starvation scared me far worse than being fodder for a twister. If push came to shove, I’d stand outside with pride and let Mother Nature get me long before I wasted away for weeks. Either had the same result at the end. I would die.
Choosing my death beat waiting for the inevitable.
No, I would move on before I gave up, and I’d run to the South or the West before crawling back to the East if I had a say in the matter. I could find a nice beach in California and enjoy life for a while. I’d have to be more careful about bounty hunters, but I could carve out a new life for myself for the few weeks it took some asshole wanting a lot of money to spot me.
How had my life become such a mess?
At a loss, I explored, cracking open boxes and peeking inside to make a mental tally of my supplies. The first few crates contained canned goods, most of it fresh enough I wouldn’t have to worry about what I’d be eating for months. I’d have to figure out how to heat up some of it, but Carl hadn’t been joking around when he’d set the place up.
I hoped he rested in peace, and if he found his way to a new life, that it treated him a hell of a