Delivery #004: Contents May Chase (Beware Of Arising Feelings)

"WHY DID YOU THROW IT?!" Milo yelled at me like it was my fault the crate grew legs and started chasing us. "HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW IT WAS ALIVE?" I shouted, looking over my shoulder at the scrambling tangle of vines acting as legs that emerged from the metal box galloping after us.

“Maybe the hazard label—Type R—was a clue?!” Milo shouted. “It said reactive, not mobile!” I barked, already pulling up my Neuralink mid-sprint. The flicker of light expanded across my vision, the map guide overlaying the city grid. A faint blue trail lit up, bending sharply at a corner.

The plant hissed behind us—closer now. I grabbed Milo’s arm. “This way!” We cut the corner hard, skidding onto another street. Behind us, the plant crate-beast screeched to a confused halt, then whipped around and charged after us again, angrier this time.

...****************...

Zig yanked me into a narrow gap between two buildings—barely wide enough for one person, let alone two. My back hit the wall with a gasp. His arm pressed across my chest, holding me still as he peeked out toward the street. I could hear it—the thing—rustling by, angry vines slapping against pavement slowly and confused, but my heartbeat was louder. I could feel it in my throat as I swallowed hard. Zig didn’t seem to notice.

His face was close—way too close—and when he whispered, his breath hit my cheek. “Don’t move.” I wasn’t planning on it. His eyes scanned the street outside. Mine...were staring at the zipper of his jumpsuit. Right in front of me. Very orange. Very unzipped. So revealing. I lifted my gaze hesitantly to his neck, trailing over the tiny scratches across his collarbone - his skin blemished with all types of scars.

A smudge of dried mud clung to the edge of his jaw. There were freckles too—faint, almost hidden beneath his sun-kissed skin. And his eyelashes, unfairly long for someone who probably never thought about them. Then there was the beauty mark just below his neck. Right where his collar dipped. Like it had been placed there artfully. I didn’t mean to stare. Nor did I mean to lean. But I did.

“All right. It’s gone,” he said, pulling back with a long, relieved sigh. I let out a stifled gasp and then averted my gaze, blinking too many times, as if trying to erase my thoughts. "Finally..." I croaked with a deep huff.

......................

We crouched behind a noodle bot stand, the scent of artificial soy wafting over us as Zig’s Neuralink flickered to life. “Alright,” he said, grinning. “Observe genius at work.” A blue projection lit up between us. The map of the alleyway appeared with a red dot tracking where the plant thing currently is, but then— He started drawing on it. With his thoughts.

Tiny stick figures. The one with a smirk was labelled “Me (the bait),” and the smaller one, “You (don’t die).” The plant-beast was rendered as a horrifying tangle of scribbles and a frowny face in the centre. “This is your plan?” I asked, blinking at the mess of an idea. But what did I expect from this guy?

Zig nodded proudly. “We run back into danger… but ready this time.” I was supposed to be paying attention. But my eyes drifted—jawline, collar, beauty mark. Seriously? Again? I pinched my wrist. Hard. “Then you jump from here,” Zig continued, drawing a ridiculous arc over his mental map, “and fire the net while I distract it.”

I blinked. “Net? What net?” Zig turned to me like I’d asked if the sky was blue. “Did you not open your care pack?” He jabbed a finger at the slim pouch strapped to my jumpsuit. “I… didn’t think I needed to.” Zig’s face twisted into a grin so devious I instantly regretted my life decisions. “Oh, rookie,” he said, practically gleeful. “You’ll find everything you need in there…” He leaned in closer. “…everything.” I gulped.

......................

Zig stood in the middle of the alley, occasionally glancing at the blinking red dot on his map—it was just around the corner. “Hey, leafy freak! Over here, you unstable salad!” he shouted, waving his arms like a madman. A hiss echoed from behind a dumpster. The crate twitched, vines slithering out like it understood the insult was directed at it.

Then it charged. From my perch on a ledge above, I braced myself. “This is a terrible idea!” “Just jump!” Zig shouted, backing up as the thing gained speed. Right as the plant-beast lunged, Zig dove out of the way—and I leapt. Net launcher in hand, I pulled the trigger midair.

It fired. The net tangled around the vines and metal. The thing thrashed, let out one last shriek… and collapsed into stillness. I hit the ground hard with an "oof". Zig offered me a hand and pulled me up like it was nothing.

My fingers tightened around his arm—sturdy.

“You're not bad,” he grinned and my heart skipped a beat too many. The crate twitched. We both froze. “…Let’s not file this one as ‘success,’” I said, backing away. “Agreed.” The crate hissed again. We both flinched.

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