The Last 0-Day

Chapter 2 - Luciana

Luciana Gutierrez pressed her thumb against the scanner of her apartment, a warm tingle unlocked the door. Pressure sensors in the floor registered her entrance, turning on circadian lights and projecting the time onto the far wall.

4:30 a.m. blaringly red in the warm orange glow. She had been awake for ninety-six hours and had twenty-four more to go on this shift. Worse, she'd have to power through without any more eugeroics.

She pulled off her overjacket, resting it on the lone chair in her kitchen. Rain stained, two sizes too big, and heavy with gear. She never emptied it. A bloodstained badge hanging on the breast pocket read 'East Bowl Police Department, Precinct 19'. She removed her shirt, throwing it into a pile in the corner. Weeks worth of uniforms and undershirts, some stained with food, others with blood, and all stinking of long-shift sweat lay before the hatch in the wall for them to be automatically laundered.

Luciana gingerly removed her undershirt where blood soaked through a cement-like mixture of sweat and dirt.

That punk. She'd tag him back when she found him again.

A myriad of scars from the past year covered her body. The newest addition to the flock from a pocketknife above the deepest and oldest at the base of her ribs. Luciana's first-aid kit never left the kitchen counter. She removed the Derma-Clean.

"Coffee, porridge, shower," Luciana said, pouring ethanol over the wound. Pain lanced from the gash. "Motherf—"

The grinding of coffee and metallic mashing of grains covered her grunts.

She pressed the flesh together, smearing it shut with Regenepoxy. A seven centimeter gash now a pink and purple zipper. Luciana tossed her ENT and OPTO inserts into their neon yellow cleaning solutions on the counter. She headed to shower. A pulsing flow of steam and mist turned the city's filth into dark rivulets across her lean form.

She rubbed the puncture wound of her oldest scar. Motherfuckers. I'll find them, Erik. She cracked her neck. Need to hit the station and patch my body armor before the next stakeout... and I can grab the logs for more intel.

The water stopped early, soap stalling midway down her calves.

More budget cuts. She shook her head, wrapped a dirty towel around herself, and walked into the kitchen. The coffee steamed in its cup by a bowl of porridge. She grabbed her food and the tablet from her overjacket, standing by her lone window to eat.

The view was an unchanging patchwork of residential low-rises stained with pollution and dust that ran to the rising canyon wall of the Eastern Bowl's taller buildings. Two blocks away, a mother hung white clothing out to dry. It would turn gray and yellow by the time that mom brought it back in. Luciana put her tablet on text-to-speech and wolfed down her dinner.

"A detritus storm is forecasted to hit the San Francisco Bowl this Friday and will last until Wednesday," the robotic newswoman droned. "Although rain is expected to accompany this storm, it is not significant enough to warrant delaying the next planned precipitation. Cloud seeding has already begun and should arrive at the end of the month. Residents are reminded to stock food, water, and respirators before the storm hits. Additionally, during the planned rain people are not allowed to leave their districts and should telecommute if their company is still running. More information about local shutdowns and shelters will be provided as the storm takes form and approaches." The text-to-speech stopped.

A detritus storm. Outstanding. Luciana finished the coffee without even tasting it and changed into a clean uniform.

Chief will change assignments. I'll lose my lead. Damn it. She popped her OPTO-inserts in, cycling their modes. The world shifted from visible, to a graying infrared, to a polarizing ultraviolet, and back to the visible spectrums. The check function was as normal as tying her boots now. She slid her ENT-inserts into her ears and turned them on. The background hum of the apartment complex faded away. A garbage truck collecting cans on the corner rumbled as if within the room.