It’s well past midnight when I wake up on the ground, and I’m pretty sure it’s only because of how cold and wet it is. I don’t even remember falling asleep, but a glance at my watch tells me it was about seven hours ago. Apparently, I needed it.

At first, I wonder why nobody messed with the random woman sprawled out on the damp grass in front of a business, but nobody would mess with me when I was homeless and asleep. Nicer clothes wasn’t going to change that.

Even this late at night, the building labeled “CB Moving Limited” is alive with activity. Another cloudship is unloading on the dock up top, and lights are spilling out from windows onto the cobblestone sidewalk outside. Whatever they’re really doing at CB Moving Limited, it has a third shift.

Or the third shift is the sneaky, illegal shift.

Wouldn’t surprise me any.

“Well, I suppose it’s about time I scout the place and sneak in,” I say, my voice reaching no one’s ears. Why I felt the need to say it out loud, I’ll never know.

Above me, in the sky, the moon is big and beautiful. She’s just past full moon and waning into third quarter, or however you say it. My sole audience member for the insane break-in I’m about to attempt.

My first move is to tiptoe around the perimeter of the building. I spot a back door that opens up to an alley, but other than that, there’s a whole lot of nothing that can help me.

So, like a normal person, I squat out on the end of the alley opposite the back door and stare at it, waiting for someone to emerge. When nothing happens for thirty minutes, I decide it’s time to get moving.

The door creaks slightly as I open it, but nobody comes to check out the noise, so I keep moving forward. I eventually slip into the building, which is a lot warmer than the chilly outside air, and close the door as delicately as it was opened.

“Now, onto hunting for the big man.”

I take one step on the tile flooring of the storage room I’m in, and my shoes squeak from the water I picked up outside. The noise is a lot louder than the door was, and I immediately go to duck behind one of the metal shelves holding large, unmarked cardboard boxes.

Once again, nobody comes to investigate, and I use the time to wipe my shoes off as best as I can with my sleeve. It’s not perfect, but a few test steps prove much quieter.

Can’t have a little rain messing this up and getting me in trouble.

I go to leave the room, but a nagging feeling in my gut tells me to check out a few of the boxes and their contents, so I run my knife across the tops of a few of them. Three contain nothing but packing peanuts and small metal parts that look like they belong to machinery, but the fourth box contains gears and pipes, all a brassy-coppery color.

There’s not a lot of pocket space left in my jacket, but I grab one of the larger gears out of the box and stash it away. Whether it’s because it’s shiny or that I want to find out more about the strange box of stuff is up for debate.

With that out of the way, I open the next door, which leads out into the main lobby of CB Moving Limited. The ceiling hangs high, meaning the second floor is a lot smaller, but seeing as the building is four stories total, there’s still plenty of ground to cover.

A patrol of three armed guards near the front entrance comes into view, walking along the windows and peering out of each set, almost as if they’re expecting visitors.

Expecting me.

There’s no doubt word’s gotten out: Luna, the one who destroyed Slaphand’s Plasmarizer twice, escaped the island and is back to causing havoc. They know I’m heading this way. All I’ve gotta do is make it seem like I haven’t already arrived.

It’s almost funny realizing this whole mess is for me. I’ve scared and upset this big grown man an unreasonable amount. This “kid” has his guards on high alert.

Like earlier, I sit and peek through the crack in the doorway, watching the patrol make their rounds, figuring out their patterns. About five minutes into scouting, however, a second group of guards arrives, retracing the first group’s path almost exactly the same way. And five minutes after that, a third batch shows up, too.

A total of nine guards are out in the main lobby, all patrolling different areas at different times. If I step out, I’m almost definitely gonna be seen. But there are no other doors out of this room, and I doubt if there’s a spare outfit stuffed into any of these boxes.

“Now what?”

I search for an answer, which comes from above.

For whatever reason, there’s a sort of vent in the wall that leads out to the main room, meaning if I unscrew that and fit through, I’ll be high enough that the patrol groups won’t spot me unless they look up. And they’ll have no reason to unless I make too much noise. Then, I’ll walk across the support beams spanning the room over to the stairs, and…

And…

Well, something, hopefully. The support beam is too high up to make it down to the stairs safely, and even if I could, there’s no way they wouldn’t notice me jump. Not to mention, if a fourth patrol group starts making their rounds, I’d run right into them.

But, if I can find something to throw all the way to the opposite side of the room, maybe the noise will distract them all long enough to make the jump and get out of sight.

It’s better than nothing, I suppose.

The three groups merge into one somewhere near the middle of the room, talking and ignoring their job. None of them even glance this way as I snake out of sight behind the door.

I climb the metal shelf directly under the vent, which is fortunately clear of any boxes on top, but it’s about four feet from the top of the shelf to the ceiling, so I’m stuck crouching. Then, with one of my knives, I slowly and carefully turn each of the four screws on the gate and gently set it down on top of the shelf.

There’s enough space for me to crawl in for sure, though with as much comfort as I have on top of the shelf. I check on the group of nine one last time, making sure they’re still talking and not paying attention, before stepping through the hole in the wall and onto one of the three support beams.

The black metal beam slopes up a bit in the center of the room, putting me at about fifteen feet above the floor. It’s wide enough for solid footing, but still a bit of a tightrope act.

The circus was never really my thing. I prefer watching movies in theaters. Not that I’ve seen one in years.

Heights, coincidentally, are also not my thing.

I get myself as close to the stairs as I safely can and peek down below me. They still haven’t noticed, which is strange, considering the amount of dust I’ve kicked up.

I fish the gear out of my pocket and give it one last look. It’s solid, but light enough to toss without a problem.

“So long, good friend,” I whisper, spotting my reflection in the lustrous material. “You were good while you lasted.”

I reel my arm back over my shoulder and throw the gear as hard as I can, watching it arc across the room all the way to the other side. It connects with the wall with a loud metal banging and scraping noise, and as everyone looks for what caused it, I dive off the metal beam and onto the stairs. It’s a four- or five-foot drop, but I stick the landing without hurting myself too much.

Hidden from view by the wall protecting the staircase, I quickly claw my way up, not standing, in fear of poking my head out and being spotted. I climb all the way up the rest of the stairs this way, leading to a balcony on the second floor.

Fully exposed on the balcony, I slide into one of the rooms, praying it’s empty, and hide away in a corner. A few minutes pass, and I hear footsteps walk by the room, but they’re not alerted to my spot. I allow myself a peek out the room’s window overlooking the balcony, and spot a crowd of thirteen guards all staring up at the spot where my gear had collided.

It was still stuck in the wall.

Unlike the storage room, this one was connected to another by a door on the inside, and so I get down on the floor and peer through the crack underneath. The lights are off and there’s no sound or movement inside, so I quietly slip into the next room. This one doesn’t have a window, meaning there’s a little more freedom to move. It also has a door leading to a third room, whenever I’m ready for that.

I take the seclusion time as a chance to breathe, seeing as I have a lot more building climbing to do at this point. I’m getting good at this sneaking and infiltrating thing. Maybe I should become some sort of espionage agent. I’m sure there are places hiring.

I let a few more minutes pass before walking to the next door and checking it the same way I did the first. This time, the light is on, but there are no signs of life inside. This one has a window similar to the first room, but also stairs to the third floor of the building.

So far, nothing of interest has been in any of the rooms. If I had to guess, the first and second floors are part of their “moving company” front end, and the third and fourth floors are part of their “mafia syndicate” back end.

I follow the staircase up to the third floor, where the mood drastically changes. The walls are a different color, the floor is carpeted, and everything feels drab and secretive.

Called it.

“Yeah, the boys are completely confused as to what happened,” a voice says down the hall, accompanied by a set of footsteps. “That’s the second gear to get lodged in that wall in a week, and nobody can out the source. Probably one of the guards playing tricks.”

I hastily roll into one of the open rooms nearby, hoping the man doesn’t come in here.

“No, the cameras still aren’t back up from the outage last month. Boss believes they’ve been sabotaged, but the repairman doesn’t think so. Besides, nobody’s come to steal anything, and that Luna kid certainly didn’t plan any of this.”

The man walks by, totally unaware of me, that Luna kid, on the other side of the wall, and goes down the stairs to the second floor. I breathe a short-lived sigh of relief.

I can’t believe I didn’t check if there were cameras again. I’ve been screwed over by them twice, and for all I know, it could’ve been three by now if it weren’t for their mysterious outage. Also, the second gear in a week in that wall? What on earth is going on around here?

Those are questions for later. I step back out into the hallway, ready to begin my search.

With most of the welcome party on the first and second floors, there’s not much to worry about in the way of being spotted, but I still take every precaution I can. Most of the rooms are offices of some sort, but two catch my interest: the conference and storage rooms.

The conference room has a lot of information about the island and a few of Bijabers’ dealings. There’s a bulletin board talking about some guy in France, as well as a paper at the far end of the table in the center sent from someone calling herself “Cleopatra.” It mentions shipments inside Carmsborough, but not what they’re shipping or to where.

If I wanted anymore confirmation that this was one of Slaphand or Bijabers’ dealings, I got it all right here.

As for the storage room, it’s mostly cleaning supplies on the inside, but a second box of gears and pipes, like the one in the storage room, sits on a shelf collecting dust. The words “OLD PROTOTYPE PARTS” are written in sharpie on the side. A prototype for what? The Plasmarizer? A steambot?

Too many questions in this building. All I need is to find Slaphand’s current location. I pocket two more gears from the box and silently fold the top back up.

Thirty minutes of searching later, I climb up to the fourth floor, which, unlike the third, has guards patrolling. Must be the important one.

For the most part, it’s more of the same boring offices, but this time with the added flair of hostile men threatening to use their pistols on me. More than once I’m forced to step into an empty room to wait for one of them to pass by, and it’s slow moving through the building.

Eventually, I spot a room with barred windows and two guards standing on the outside. Beyond that is a door with a stairway label next to it. The most protected room is right next to the roof access.

That’s clearly the room I wanna be in, but how do I get inside?

“All hands on deck downstairs,” one of their radios says, crackling to life on their hip. “One of Cleopatra’s men is coming to do the steroid exchange and we need every last guard down here.”

The two guards sigh and head down the hallway. Like clockwork, I hide inside another room until they’re out of sight, and walk down to the barred room.

That was easy.

I feel like the door should’ve been locked, but it swings open without any resistance. My eyes widen at the sight of what’s on the inside. Lining the walls are expensive-looking paintings and artworks, three statues standing in various spots, and on a bookshelf sit various golden items and a large vase full of gold coins.

And, in the center of the room, is a map on a table, which reads, “Slaphand’s Stakes.” Next to that is a large metal bat.

A small red X marks the location of his main hideout, under the name of “Hand & Boogie Retail.” There are plenty of additional markings on the map, including a skull over the recently destroyed Blood Moon Island and blue dots for each of the apartment complexes they control.

Hand & Boogie Retail. It’s nestled in-between the Commerce and Higher districts. I’ve never had a reason to go that way, but I do now. My first trip to the Higher District will be to find and crush Slaphand.

On my way out, I consider the large vase of gold coins taunting me on the shelf. I reach out to grab a handful, but hesitate.

“What would you do, Freckles?” I say aloud. “I mean, I always say it’s moral to steal from the bad guys. They’re the bad guys, after all. But you wouldn’t like it in the first place. Something about stealing making me as bad as them, or whatever. It’s a good thing you’re not here, I guess.”

My mind is made up. Sorry Freckles, you’ll have to forgive me later. I grab five or six of the coins and stash them awkwardly in the same pocket as the two gears are in, and turn to leave the room, only to be met with a guard staring at me, confused, terrified, and angry.

“How long were you there?” I ask, as if it matters.

“Long enough. You’re that Luna kid, aren’t you?”

“I thought you were supposed to be down helping Cleopatra.”

“Yeah, but something tripped the silent alarm for this room, and that something is you. Put your hands up—”

Without hesitation, I reach for the metal bat leaning against the table in the center of the room and swing out at the man. It connects loudly and violently with his head, knocking him to the ground, unconscious.

The metal sound reverberates through the hallway. If nobody else knew I was up here, they do now.

I swipe the map on the table, which tears at the four corners where it was pinned down, and head up the stairs to the roof. Maybe, if nobody’s up here, I can steal the cloudship and get away without being chased.

I climb to the top and am met with snow and two guards, as surprised to see me as I am them.

“Well, hello, fellas.”

I scan the roof. There’re two goons in the cloudship. I can either take all four of them on or find a different way to escape.

The building behind me has the same level of roof. If I can jump the distance between the two, I might get a head start and escape.

They approach me, spreading out a little to have as much peripheral on me as possible. From below, the door swings open, and two more guards charge up the stairs.

Now or never, I suppose.

I lob the bat at one of the nearest guards, which smacks him comically, and make a break for the other rooftop. At this speed, I might make it.

Or, at least, I would’ve, if I hadn’t looked down at the last second. Looking down gives me an incredible anxiety, and my jump ends up barely two feet short of my target. I try to reach out for the ledge of the building, but I’m a few inches too far away.

I fall five feet and land on a metal fire escape, and even almost stick the landing.

Almost.

I barrel shoulder-first into the brick wall of the building, grinding my teeth with the pain. Up on the rooftop, the guards peer down at me, not wanting to attempt the same thing.

“You’re only coming down one way,” one of them says, and they all disappear, probably going to head down to underneath the fire escape. By the time I finish climbing down the four ladders to the alleyway, they’ll have gotten equally as far, and I’ll be toast.

I stare at the window right in front of me. Every fire escape has a window to escape from.

I don’t know what this building is, or anything about it, but I do know one way to get down without fighting a horde of Slaphand’s goons.

Within seconds, one of the stolen gears is back in my hands and crashing down upon the glass. It makes quick work of the windowpane, and I step into the building, which is completely dark on the inside except for the faint light pouring in from the streets.

I weave through the hallways of this new building and find the roof access, climb my way back up, and face back to the roof of CB Moving Limited. The guards all went to hunt for me downstairs, leaving the cloudship unprotected.

These guys are consistently stupid, and honestly, I love it.

I step all the way back to the opposite side of this building’s roof, hoping to gain enough speed and momentum to get me across. Just don’t look down, Luna. Take the jump, don’t look down.

I break into a full sprint, charging across the roof as fast as I can, and leap over the ledge. I do end up looking down halfway through the air and spot a few of the guards already waiting for me in the alley. It’s a long way down, but I won’t be joining them. My feet land firmly onto the roof of CB Moving Limited, and I break my landing with a roll.

No time to relish in that accomplishment. I’ve gotta get the cloudship kicked into motion and get out of here. Luckily for me, the design is the exact same as the first ship I stole, and the key is once again still in the ignition. Hooray for consistency, I suppose.

The cloudship starts up and begins moving as soon as two of the guards reappear on the roof. They fire at the balloon, but their pistols aren’t going to do much in stopping me from flying away.

I’m free, I’m safe, I know Slaphand’s location, and I stole another one of their dinky little cloudships. It’s hard to not feel cocky. I’ll be back with Freckles in no time.