Pulsing, every goddam thing in this city pulses. The rain hammering onto the earth below, the neon lights flashing in the air, the rhythm of footsteps of people packed like sardines on street level, everything has a pulse.
In the sea of pulses, one blinked especially fast tonight: hurried footsteps, eyes flicking left, right, left right. A young man shouldered through the human current of 50th Avenue— a street overrun by market stalls and vendors all hawking the latest model of synth-peach. The man's eyes scanned the crowd, that target was a bed to sleep on, food for his stomach. There, a face, a sweat slicked forehead, a nervous repeated tap of one foot. The killer's brows furrowed as his steps quickened into a prowl. Don't run, it'll only delay the inevitable.
He's only a couple steps away, it doesn't have to be difficult. The young man's hand dived into his worn jacket's pocket. A startled yelp as the target began to run, the man grunted as steps burst into a sprint. Weaving through the masses, his hand slid out a pulse pistol that he kept close to his side. He raised his left forearm, a cybernetic implant staring back. The killer spoke "T.R.A.C.K", the buzz of rotor wings filled the air as the drone floated up, leaving an unnatural gap in his arm. The man raised a finger and tapped a small button on the side of his glasses, the left lens glitched for a moment before showing the view from the drone, still hot on the trail of the target.
The target continued running, his mind constantly repeating 'run, delay the inevitable. Every step… every step is a second longer to breathe and think, though that drone… he knows. I can't stop, I won't stop. Decades of building that company, I can't give up now… Martha, I'll come home tonight.' The mantra fuelled his burning legs, his step not faltering as he turned into another, quieter street. However, eventually his legs gave way, the sprint becoming a jog, then a brisk walk, then slow painful steps. He looked down, an alley. He staggered through the mouth, his arm finding support on the cracked brick wall as his escape came to a halt.
'Breathe in… 6 seconds… breathe out, he's not here yet, I still have time'- the hum of a pulse pistol travelled to the man's ears, his blood ran cold and his face paled. Slowly he turned to see a pale blue dot in the darkness, the shadows drawing closer, the chase had come to an end. The man's breathing quickened, adrenaline pumping to his stone legs. He blurted out "WAIT! Wait!… just one second…" The face of his hunter came into the light, young, too young, hazel eyes bearing the weight of a thousand sins, and a cold expression that spoke of a man's spark snuffed out too soon. The young man replied "why?"
"Because… because I uhh… I'll pay you more, more than any bastard who sent you to kill me! Double- no, TRIPLE!" The gambit was shut down as soon as it left the targets lips "Rent's due and I'm not here to negotiate."
"WAIT! WAIT PLE-" a gunshot echoed through the alley. Walls splattered red and the targets body fell onto the ground with a dull thud. He was dead, the mission was complete, and one pulse had been ended tonight.