Work In Progress

"I'm getting too old for this," Lorza says to herself. This wasn't exactly how she wanted to celebrate her fifteenth birthday. While other girls have cake and ice cream or low-fat frozen yogurt because of their body image issues; Lorza is mopping the bathroom floor. The floor that was covered with entrails, flecks of skull and brain. And blood, lots of blood. She could have just burned the house down but someone would call it in. She decided to keep it simple. The entrails and brain belonged to Ryanne Klein.

Ryanne Klein wasn't popular, but neither was Lorza. Ryanne had a way about her. She was bookish but pretty. Smart and randomly mean; well, not entirely random. Lorza was usually on the receiving end of the remarks. It didn't matter, Ryanne doesn't exist. Not on paper anyway. She and Lorza have been off the grid for 13 years. No one would miss her.

She stood outside. It looked so out of place, her hair pulled back into a tight ponytail, black turtleneck, black flex-skin pants and shapeshift leather shoes in this ruddy little neighborhood. The face mask she wore only covered up to her nose. The cool air flowing from it into her suit didn't stop the beads of sweat from forming on her upper lip. They dripped slowly around to her mouth and she hated the salty taste. It was almost time to run. Lorza couldn't stand the anticipation but if she took off now she would be noticed, if she was late then she'd miss the train. She was slightly sore from the night before. It was nice when team would clean up and get rid of the kills for you but when you go AWOL, you do your own dirty work. This wasn't a contract kill, this was a good ol' murder. It could have been cleaner but the tracker had to be removed. Of course it's lodged where everyone else's was, in the center of the brain.

She looks at her timepiece, reading 5:36, looks to the rising sun, starts up the karmann ghia, listens to it purr, and pushes the accelerator as far as it will go. She has 14 minutes to ditch the car and board the train but this is enough time to reflect on her evening's events.