The Last Delivery

Heat in the Streets

The rain had stopped, but the city had not. Greyridge City breathed in neon and exhaled danger. Liam Oduor leaned his drenched delivery bike against the wall of a shuttered storefront, chest heaving, eyes darting down the empty street. Every car that passed seemed like a threat. Every shadow a hunter.

The case inside his bag weighed heavier now than ever. Not just in his hands — in his mind. He didn’t know what was inside, and he didn’t want to, but instinct screamed that it was something worth killing for. Something that had already marked him for death.

He forced himself to think. Panicking would get him killed. He needed a plan.

And the first step of that plan was simple: find somewhere safe to hide.

He ducked into the narrow back alleys of the old market district, weaving past shuttered stalls and puddles reflecting the fading neon lights. Every footstep echoed against the brick walls, a staccato reminder that he was still alive — for now.

Liam remembered the one person he knew he could trust, at least a little: Taye, an old friend from his mechanic days. Taye ran a small garage on the edge of Greyridge’s industrial zone, a place where Liam had spent countless hours tinkering with engines and swapping stories. Taye wasn’t a criminal — at least not yet — but he knew people. Contacts. Safe spots. Tools. A man like Taye could provide answers… or at least a place to think.

Liam’s bike bounced over broken cobblestones as he pedaled toward the garage. The city streets, which had seemed like a labyrinth an hour ago, were now alive with traffic, late-night revelers, and the occasional police patrol. He kept his eyes on the shadows and his hands tight on the handlebars.

He arrived at the garage, sweat and rain mixing in rivulets down his face. The metal door was partially open, flickering yellow light spilling onto the wet concrete. He slipped inside.

“Taye?” Liam’s voice echoed.

From behind a cluttered workbench, a tall, wiry man emerged, wiping grease off his hands. “Liam? You’re soaked. What the hell happened?”

Before Liam could answer, a loud crash echoed outside — a car door slamming, tires skidding. The hairs on Liam’s neck stood on end. “Someone’s following me,” he said, voice low. “They know I have it.”

Taye’s eyes narrowed. “Have what?”

Liam hesitated, fingers brushing against the bag containing the case. He didn’t know if he should tell Taye everything, but he had no choice. “This,” he said, pulling it out and setting it on the bench. “I don’t know what it is. But it’s dangerous. People are… hunting me.”

Taye leaned in, inspecting the case. “Black Lanterns,” he said quietly. Liam froze. “You don’t just get a package from them. You take it… and now they want it back. And they don’t send warnings.”

Liam swallowed hard. “I didn’t mean to. I just—”

“You just what?” Taye interrupted. “You just picked the wrong job, Liam. Welcome to Greyridge.”

The words hit harder than the rain had. Liam had always thought of Greyridge as a city of opportunities — a place to hustle, earn a living, maybe get ahead. Now it felt like a cage.

“Look,” Taye said, grabbing a flashlight and signaling Liam to follow, “we need to move this somewhere safer. And we need to figure out exactly what we’re dealing with before someone finds out you have it.”

Liam nodded, heart racing. They moved the case to a hidden corner behind the garage, lifting a false floor panel that Taye had installed years ago for “emergencies.” Liam’s hands shook as he lowered it in. It would buy him time — maybe hours, maybe a day. That was all.

Hours passed in tense silence. Liam and Taye sat among greasy tools, the rain tapping gently on the metal roof above. Every creak, every distant shout, every horn honk made Liam flinch.

Then, the phone rang. It was a number he didn’t recognize. He hesitated before answering.

“Liam Oduor,” a distorted voice said, calm but edged with menace. “We know you have it. We know what you’ve done. You have exactly twelve hours to make it right. After that… well, let’s just say Greyridge is a dangerous place for the unprepared.”

Click. The line went dead.

Liam’s stomach turned. The message was clear: they were already watching. Every move he made, every breath, could be his last.

Taye rubbed his chin. “You can’t stay here. Not for long. You need to move, and fast. I know someone who can help — someone who owes me a favor.”

“Who?” Liam asked, tension coiling in his chest.

“Name’s Nia,” Taye said, eyes serious. “She runs a safehouse in the eastern sector. Disappears people for a living — or hides them, depending on the price. She’s good. And she’s fast. But she doesn’t come cheap.”

Liam’s mind raced. He didn’t have money. He didn’t have allies. He didn’t have options. But he did have the bag, and for better or worse, it was his lifeline now.

“Then we go,” he said finally, voice firm despite the fear that clawed at him. “We go now.”

As they exited the garage, Liam couldn’t shake the feeling of eyes watching from the shadows. Somewhere in the city, the hitman — the Rooftop — waited, patient and deliberate. The Black Lanterns were mobilizing. And somewhere among the corrupt police and hidden allies, a trap was closing around him.

They navigated narrow alleys and back streets, keeping low and moving fast. Every corner, every parked car, every flickering light could conceal danger. Liam’s pulse pounded in his ears. This was no longer a delivery. This was survival. Every choice mattered, and one wrong move could be his last.

By the time they reached the eastern sector, Liam’s body was trembling, soaked through, and exhausted. But he didn’t care. He had survived Chapter One. Now, he had to survive Chapter Two — the real fight.

The safehouse loomed ahead, an unassuming building tucked between a laundromat and a corner store. The door opened before they knocked. A tall woman, sharp-eyed and muscular, stepped out. Her gaze pierced Liam like a knife.

“You Taye’s friend?” she asked.

“Yes,” Liam said. “Please… I need—”

“You have something that belongs to dangerous people,” she said, cutting him off. “And now, you belong to us. Follow me inside, and maybe you survive the night. Don’t follow me, and you don’t survive the morning.”

Liam swallowed hard. The reality was clear: there was no turning back. The city had claimed him, and every step from here on would be a battle for his life.

Inside the safehouse, he finally allowed himself to catch his breath. But outside, in the streets of Greyridge, the city continued to hum with danger, and somewhere, the Black Lanterns were already planning their next move.

Liam Oduor had survived the first night. But in a city like Greyridge, survival was only the beginning.