"Ah, Jack, you're just in time." Bladder grinned and waved a hand at the guy standing beside him. "I've got some new meat for you."

Jack shoved the hotbox into a vacant slot in the shelf, plugging its connectors in so it could recharge, and handed the cash from his last delivery to Bladder. He turned and nodded at the new driver. The guy was slightly taller than Jack, had a more muscular build, and looked like he was just out of high school. His brown hair was cut very short, his khaki slacks were perfectly pressed and his gold polo shirt was buttoned all the way up.

Jack suppressed a sigh. He figured the only reason this guy had a job was that his parents wanted to get him out of their house during the summer. In September, he would probably head off to college and then move on to one of the corporations that had made Neon City what it was.

Jack tried not to roll his eyes. Not that the guy would notice. Jack's cybernetic eyes were solid black, so no one could tell exactly where he was looking. All things considered, he would've kept his original eyes if he'd been given a choice, but these things did offer a few advantages.

Eh, give him a chance. Who knows, maybe exposure to the world outside his bubble will teach him a thing or two.

"Jack," Bladder said, "this is Clark Lewis."

"Clark Lewis?" Jack raised an eyebrow at Bladder, grinned, and shook his head. "No shit?"

"What's wrong with my name?" Clark frowned.

Jack's other eyebrow shot up. He studied Clark's face for a moment, then decided his lack of understanding was genuine. He sighed.

"Not a history buff, I take it?"

"Not really. Why?"

"Getting into college on an athletic scholarship?"

"Yeah. How'd you know?"

"Lucky guess." Jack stifled another sigh. "Nice to meet you, and all that shit."

From the corner of his eye, he saw Bladder pretending to scratch an itch under his nose to hide his grin. Dudley "Bladder" Peterson's sense of humor wasn't nearly as caustic as Jack's, but it was close enough. It was one of the reasons he was among the few people Jack considered friends.

"Anyway," Bladder said, running a hand through his unruly mop of curly brown hair, "Clark, this is my coworker and good buddy, Jack Hammer."

Clark snorted. "Now who's got the funny name?"

Bladder chuckled and shook his head, and his hair fell across his face. He brushed it back and said, "Making fun of Jack's name isn't a great idea. He'll beat your ass."

"Really?" Clark smirked down at Jack as if to say, "I doubt that."

Jack shrugged. "Nah, I'd probably just give you the finger and walk away. My girlfriend might tear you apart, though, if she hears about this. She's seven feet tall and can bench-press a truck."

Clark laughed again. "Yeah, right."

"He's telling the truth." Bladder grinned. "I haven't met her yet, but I know she's not human."

Jack looked at Bladder. "I'll have to introduce you to her sometime. Maybe I'll see if she can drop by here tonight."

"That'd be cool. I've been curious about her ever since you two hooked up."

"Not human?" Clark frowned. "You mean, a cyborg?"

"Nope," Jack said.

Clark frowned and thought for a moment, then it sank in and his eyes widened. "Oh. One of those?"

Jack raised an eyebrow again, then he shook his head and turned back to Bladder.

"So, is he ready to get his cherry popped?"

Clark's eyes widened again and he took a step back. This time, Bladder didn't try to hide his laughter.

"Relax, Clark, it's just an expression."

Understanding dawned on Clark's face and he nodded. "Yeah, I know," he said, nodding, but didn't sound convincing.

"Actually," Bladder said to Jack, "you've got a couple deliveries right now. They just came out of the oven a few minutes ago. So I guess it's time for Clark's initiation."

"Initiation?" Clark muttered.

Jack ignored him. "It'll be good to have somebody to share the misery with." He glanced at the rack and Bladder pointed at three hotboxes. Jack picked them up and said, "So, how long do you think he'll last?"

"Hard to say."

Clark flicked a nervous gaze back and forth between them. Bladder paid no attention. He pointed at the box on top of the stack.

"Watch out for that first one. It's a real humdinger."

"Even compared to the ones I usually get? I'm duly impressed."

"Oh, yeah, this is a fun one." Bladder shook his head and his wild curls flopped over his face again. "It was some old woman who took five minutes just to tell me her phone number and address, and then she changed her order half a dozen times. Just before you got back, she called and asked who to write the check out to."

"Check? There's somebody out there who still uses those?"

"Quaint, isn't it? Had to break the news to her that businesses stopped accepting checks decades ago."

"Terrific." Jack shrugged. "I'm really looking forward to this one. See ya in a few." Jack carried the boxes to the door, then looked over his shoulder at Clark. "Well? You coming or not?" He pushed the door open and headed for the parking lot beside the building without waiting for an answer.

Clark caught up to him a moment later.

"So," Jack said, "which car's yours?"

"That one." Clark pointed at a brand-new, red SUV parked in the corner, far away from the other vehicles.

"Ah. Did your parents buy that for you?"

"My dad did, yeah. It was a graduation gift. How did you know?"

"Another lucky guess." Jack fought down a wave of disgust. "We'll take my car."

"Which one is it?"

"Straight ahead." Jack nodded at his hearse and Clark stopped in his tracks. Jack grinned. The hearse had a lift kit, huge tires, and five exhaust pipes on each side.

"What … the hell is that?" Clark muttered.

"That's my ride." Jack had picked it up dirt-cheap at a seized-property auction about a year ago. He'd never learned much about its previous owner, but wouldn't be surprised if the car had drugs or some other nasty shit hidden somewhere in it. He hadn't been able to resist it, though.

"Uh … okay. Um, why do you drive a hearse?"

"Many reasons. Notice the way you reacted to it?"

"Well, yeah."

"That's one of 'em. Let's get going, eh?"

Clark sighed, braced himself, and climbed into the passenger seat. They put their seatbelts on and Jack started the car. Clark raised his eyebrows.

"How big is the engine?"

"Ten cylinders." Jack waved at the gear shift. "Nine-speed manual transmission with three reverse gears."

"Ah." Clark blinked. "How fast will it go?"

"I dunno. Haven't found the top speed yet."

"Oh," Clark said in a very soft, small voice. "Great."

Jack grinned and backed out of the parking spot, then eased into the evening traffic. Clark sat silently beside him, eyes wide and skin pale as if waiting to die.