A Kiss Before The Grave

Chapter 1

Car parts were strewn upon the shop floor. The sound of power tools and welders buzzing filled the otherwise empty space. Anatole lay back on a creeper, moving quickly under a behemoth of a van. Black oil stained his pale skin up to the elbow in a shiny mess as he wrenched the axle free from its housing, or what was left of it anyway. Moving from under the van he gave it a more discerning look. It had chunks almost torn out of it and what was still there was scorched with phosphorus burns.

“Merde. This is the 3rd time I’ve had to repair you this month!”

Throwing the broken piece against the wall he roughly ran his fingers through his hair, staining his shoulder length blonde hair with streaks of oil. Blue eyes looked around the room, formulating a way to get this to work.

Movement caught his eye as he turned to see little dragonflies buzzing around the van. Flashes of green light illuminated them as they zapped the van. Anatole extended his hand and one peeled off to perch. Using his free hand he grabbed a glove from his back pocket and slipped it on, a few quick movements later and a massive screen of cerulean light appeared before him.

More flashes of warm colors appeared before him as the little dragonfly buzzed onto his shoulder. The van’s diagnostics had been uploaded by now. It wasn’t good. The hood, radiator and armor panels 3, 7, and 8 had all been compromised from small arms fire or explosions in addition to the rear axle he had just removed.

“That’s the last time I run with Rippa. Fragging idiot nearly got us all killed. I’m just lucky I was able to get everyone back safe and get you back here before you broke down on me.”

As he took another look at the diagnostics an alert popped up over the HUD. A call from Lazarus. Anatole always hated these. But with a flick of his wrist he opened the call to a pale skinned man with black hair and dark eyes. “Quoi de neuf?”

“Toolbox, it’s been almost a month and I haven’t gotten a payment from you.” His voice gruff and irritated, not at Anatole himself, but probably for running one of the few only good underground medical clinics in the Seattle Metroplex.

“I know, I know. I’ve been trying. Have there been any changes?” Anatole’s voice cracked at the question, dread stifling his voice.

“You know the answer to that. She’s been the same for what’s it been now? 6 years? You know she used to get better when you were around more.”

A lump formed in Anatole’s throat as he shook his head. “How much do I owe you?”

“15k Nuyen. Same as it’s always been. You should come see her, it really does help.”

Anatole dodged the statement. “I should have the money by tonight.”

Lazarus just sighed and nodded before cancelling the call.

Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a commlink and a few of the credsticks from his pocket. Inserting each one by one he noticed a depressing trend. Each had almost been cleared out. Anatole felt his heart sink into his stomach as he pulled out the last one. When the amount popped up he saw that this one at least had a bit left. A little over 7000 Nuyen, it was nowhere near enough with what he needed. Between the repairs and paying Lazarus he was looking in the ballpark of triple that amount.

At least this job was going to pay out. Mr. Johnson had brokered the team and the payout was supposed to be a solid 50,000 split 4 ways. That should be enough to at least pay Lazarus and get the new axle, as well as patch up most of the parts. Not replace like he’d like but it would at least let him get to the next job. He’d have to suck down more nutrisoy without the flavor packets for a month but it was better than starving.