“Suck it!” Came a small voice from below. Zephyr spurred on and scrambled down after him. They rounded corners, took twists and turns that led them into the Fabricators district. Real buildings with dark smoke that flew from chimneys. Zephyr’s breaths came more rapid now. He could feel sweat drip down his brow as his lungs grew heavy. Then at last the boy made a mistake. He sidestepped into an alleyway and Zephyr sprang after him. It stood between two stout factories with sheer walls on each side. Debris littered the passage. There was no other entrance or exit in sight besides the one they had entered through. “Fleet little bugger,” Zephyr said with his head bent over, hands on his thighs. “Gave me a good chase, you did.” He continued. “Now give that back to me.” He said as he pointed to the leather pouch, clutched tight in the boy’s hand. “No chance.” Said the kid. “Go suck a pickle!” He shouted as he backed further into the alleyway. “Maybe we can make a trade then?” Zephyr said as he took a few steps forward. “Doesn’t look to me like you’ve got anything to trade.” Replied the youth as he threw the pouch into the air and caught it again.“Keep the coin just tell me what you know about The Bucks.” Zephyr offered as he took another step closer.
“Nah.” Was the only reply. The thief turned around and plunged into a pile of junk stacked against the building. Zephyr set off after him. He could see a break in the wall that had been obscured by the waste.
“I’m going to brain you, you little..” He called after the boy. The space was tight and he had to go on all fours as he rummaged through the trash. His heart constricted but he was through before the shakes began. He poked his head out the other side and cast around for his quarry. As he rose to his knees he felt a cold weight come to rest upon the back of his neck.
“Whom is going to brain who, now?” Came a deeper voice.