Second Shift: Order (Shift, #2)(32)

He made his way past the sorting rooms with their tall shelves of items needing delivery and went straight to the main counter. He would drop off his current package and pick out his next job before changing and showering. Katelyn was working the counter. There were no other porters queued up. Off licking their wounds, perhaps. Or maybe seeing to their families during this recent spate of violence.

“Hey, Katelyn.”

“Mish.” She smiled. “You look intact.”

He laughed and touched his nose, which was still sore. “Thanks.”

“Cam just passed through asking where you were.”

“Yeah” Mission was surprised. He figured his friend would be taking a day off with the bonus from the coroner. “Did he pick something up”

“Yup. He requested anything heading toward Supply. Was in a better mood than usual, though he seemed miffed to have been left out of last night’s adventures.”

“He heard about that, huh” Mission sorted through the delivery list. He was looking for something upbound. Mrs. Crowe would know what to do about Rodny. Maybe she could find out from the mayor what he was being punished for, perhaps put in a good word for him.

“Wait,” he said, glancing up at Katelyn. “What do you mean he was in a good mood And he was heading for Supply” Mission thought of the job he’d been offered by Wyck. The head of IT had said Mission wouldn’t be the last to hear of the offer. Maybe he hadn’t been the first, either. “Where was Cam coming from”

Katelyn touched her fingers to her tongue and flipped through the old log. “I think his last delivery was a broken computer heading to—”

“That little rat.” Mission slapped the counter. “You got anything else heading down Maybe to Supply or Chemical”

She checked her computer, fingers clacking furiously, the rest of her perfectly serene. “We’re so slow right now,” she said apologetically. “I’ve got something from Mechanical back up to Supply. Forty five pounds. No rush. Standard freight.” She peered across the counter at Mission, seeing if he was interested.

“I’ll take it,” he said. But he didn’t plan on heading straight to Mechanical. If he raced, maybe he could beat Cam to Supply and do that other job for Wyck. That was the way in he was looking for. It wasn’t the money he wanted, it was having an excuse to go back to thirty-four to collect his pay, another chance to see Rodny, see what kind of help his friend needed, what sort of trouble he was truly in.





18




Mission made record time downbound. It helped that traffic was light, but it wasn’t a good sign that he didn’t pass Cam on the way. The kid must’ve had a good head start. Either that, or Mission had gotten lucky and had overtaken the kid while he was off the stairway for a bathroom break.

Pausing for a moment on the landing outside of Supply, Mission caught his breath and dabbed the sweat from his neck. He still hadn’t had his shower. Maybe after he found Cam and took care of this job in Mechanical, he could get cleaned up and get some proper rest. Lower Dispatch would have a change of clothes for him. And then he could figure out what to do about Rodny. So much to think about. A blessing that it took his mind off it being his birthday.

Inside Supply, he found a handful of people waiting at the counter. No sign of Cam. If the boy had come and gone already, he must’ve flown, and the delivery must’ve been heading further down. Mission tapped his foot and waited his turn. Once at the counter, he asked for Joyce, just like Wyck had said. The man helping him pointed to a heavyset woman with her hair up in a tight bun at the other end of the counter. Mission recognized her. She handled a lot of the flow of equipment marked special for IT. He waited until she was done with her customer, then asked for any deliveries under the name of Wyck.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You got a glitch at Dispatch” she asked. “Done handed that one off.” She waved for the next person in line.

“Could you tell me where it was heading” Mission asked. “I was sent to relieve the other guy. His . . . his mother is sick. They’re not sure if she’s gonna make it.”

Mission winced at the lie. The lady behind the counter twisted her mouth in disbelief.

“Please,” he begged. “It really is important.”

She hesitated. “It was going six flights down to an apartment. I don’t have the exact number. It was on the delivery report.”

“Six down.” Mission knew the level. Residential except for the handful of less-than-legal businesses being run out of a few apartments. “Thanks,” he said. He slapped the counter and hurried toward the exit. It was on his way to Mechanical, anyway. He might be too late for Wyck’s delivery, but he could ask Cam if he might pick up the pay for him, offer him a vacation chit in return. Or he could just flat out tell him an old friend was in trouble, and he needed to get through security. If not, he’d have to wait for an IT request to hit Dispatch and be the first to jump on it. And he’d have to hope that Rodny had that much time.

He was four levels down, formulating a dozen such plans, when the blast went off.

The great stairwell lurched as if thrown sideways. Mission slammed against the rail and nearly went over. He wrapped his arms around the trembling steel and held on.

There was a shriek, a chorus of groans. He watched, his head out in space beyond the railing, as the landing two levels below twisted away from the staircase. The metal sang and cried out as it was ripped free and went tumbling into the depths.