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Lindsay Adler #wakinguptofashion #photographer #image @fashion #style #readyfortakeoff #fascinator #wiredup #mystery #transparency #attitude #3/4profile #eyeliner #highcontrast #imagesweneversee #1000words #bareshoulders #portraiture #mood #bringit #holdit #click https://www.instagram.com/p/CckgUAFOR0Q9foSMa3M_Dm-7yUbEJk6ZEwokNM0/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

I remember this taking... quite a bit of time to do. 😅

The cell leader lowered her head. "When you get out there, it's crucial that you become just like them. That you are one of them. Can you do that?" "I think so" the charge replied, her tone sounding more confident than the words themselves. "Thinking won't be enough", Bryant snapped. "If you give those creatures a sniff, they will take it all..." She turned and looked gravely down through the balcony door. Below, the shambling remains of people who had walked these streets every day of their lives, and continued after death. Moping about, so locked in to their unfathomable, wordless preoccupations that they didn't interact even though they were drawn together. "Plus ça change..." Bryant muttered. Cassie knew some convincing was in order. "I've spent enough time studying them, I understand how they move. How they shift their weight on stiffened joints, but swing loosely on decomposing muscles. The gait of each one is unique to their build, just flat-out 'acting zombie' is the easiest mistake to make. They can see if you move unusually. And they're not aimless. In any area, each one cycles between three or four points. It's like they arrive at a place they remember, then forget why they wanted to be there and move on to the next." "Okay..." Bryant left a pause hanging in the air of her makeshift office, an invitation to complete the answer. But Cassie hadn't finished, she'd only wanted to ensure her expertise wasn’t mistaken for youthful enthusiasm. "So instead of going in a straight line, it makes more sense to wander around in a circuit. So that when I finally reach the target they aren't noticing my behaviour." "But you know it's not just about how you move. They're hungry. Always. Are you ready for that?" "Well, you're going to smear me in The Gunk so that shouldn't be a problem. So long as I don't smell like dinner, I'll be fine." Bryant tilted her head slightly, appraising the applicant. It had to be said, she may have just the right mix of knowledge, duty and gung-ho stupidity to pull this off. She changed tack. "What made you volunteer for this, Cassie?" "We all have different skills here, and we work well together. It's why we've survived so long. I want to be the best. I want to be the only one who can do what I do. Also, I don't see a queue of people throwing their names in for this one?" "Yeah, that's fair", Bryant acknowledged. "But you need to understand what's required here. And I need to know you're committed. Are you ready to go method on this?" "Bryant, please. I'm an actor. I once dated a guy for five months in high school because his mom was British and I wanted to study her accent for the Dickens Christmas show our theatre group was staging. This kid was in deep, took on two part time jobs to save up and buy me a ring. But I got everything I needed by mid-November and rehearsals were stepping up, so I ended it." "And how did he feel about that?" "Overdosed on his mom's fentanyl." "And... how did you feel about that?" "Won the year's award for best performance." "Okay... wow." "Look, you need someone to get the package to our contacts on Princeton and Rhodes. That's the old arts college. I spent the next two years there, I know the way. No matter what happens on those streets, no matter how panicked I get or how many diversions I need to make, I can get that package to that building. It may just a matter of time." "Well... you're right. We need accuracy over speed. Again, I can't overstate this: the contents of the satchel are irreplaceable, do you understand?" "I do", Cassie answered. She didn't, but that was only because she didn't know exactly what she'd be transporting. That it was more than simple information was obvious, that could have been shared over the radio. But if Cassie herself could carry this cargo - and do so surreptitiously and alone - then it could hardly be a cache of heavy ordnance... Bryant continued, "And you know you may end up needing to stay there? You're not just going to be able to come waltzing back across town?" "I'll do what I have to. We all make sacrifices." Another silence. Longer, this time. "Okay you've got the job, kid." The commander crossed the room to a row of metal lockers against an interior wall. From a low, unmarked door she produced a small backpack, fashioned from a heavy plaid fabric, its single compartment fastened with a light combination lock. "They know the code" Bryant murmured; needlessly, Cassie thought. They could cut it open, if needs be. She continued, "You should be able to bump this or even land on it if you need to, you're not going to smash what's in there. The inside of the pack is showerproof, but try not to submerge it in anything." The leader slid the bag over Cassie's outstretched arms, the faintly puzzled look on the girl's face belying a mind racing to work out what this cargo was. "And just for good measure..." Bryant raised two loose straps from the sides of the pack and fastened them across the chest. She sealed these in place with another combination lock. So no snooping, then. "Are you ready for this, Cassie?" "Of course. Let's go to the offal-tank and get me camouflaged..." "I'm afraid that's not the plan we've decided to go with today. There's no room for uncertainty. Remember, 331 Princeton and Rhodes, got it? They're waiting for you." As Cassie's brow furrowed in question, Bryant reached to her shoulder holster and retrieved a Browning 9mm pistol. She shot Cassie twice in the stomach at point blank range, waited until her gasping stopped and eyes glazed, then quickly hauled the body out and over the balcony railing. And watched.

{Wen Kexing never shares more than what he considers necessary. Zishu has an idea of his friend's secret errands, an idea that may as well be a one hundred percent reality but he never says a word. He doesn't mind.}

day two ✌️