Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
NEW YORK CITY WAS ON THE MENDS. A bizarre turn of events had taken the city by surprise just months before, leaving many to feel stranded and confused. However, there was the population that carried on as if nothing happened. The sidewalks, while many damaged, were still marched on every morning by those scrambling to get to work on time through the heavy traffic of tourists. One would think after a catastrophic scenario that the city would find its tourism failing, but it was quite the opposite. Everyone wanted to see the place where the world had come under attack by foreign invaders.
However, New York City was already busy enough without the added population coming to see the destruction that had been left behind. Traffic whether human or vehicle was always a nightmare to begin with. Just that morning, sirens in the distance caused many to roll their eyes and groan as they had to pull over to the side to make way for the firetruck that was struggling to make its way through.
Despite the sight of the damaged buildings, it really was just another typical morning. Everyone always in a hurry to get where they needed to go, never really bothering to pay any mind to their surroundings.
Which made for the perfect hunting grounds.
Among the disgruntled scurrying along in packs, there appeared to be a smile, caressed by red lips. A young woman triumphantly strutted down the sidewalk, the click of her heels marking every step of victory. In her hand, she carried a small clutch that she glanced over. Needless to say, it did not belong to her but that's what made it so exciting.
Opening it up, she glanced inside to see a wad of cash, along other things that definitely added to win. She peered up to make sure that she was still following the line of human traffic, careful to not be caught up in people coming from the opposite direction.
It was like playing Secret Santa, reaching her hand into the little purse and pulling out whatever her hand touched first. As her hand grabbed something rectangular, she pulled it out, wondering if it were a credit card. But alas, it was only a driver's license, dawning the face of the woman who had yet to notice that something so valuable was missing from her possession.
"Hello, Rachel...Hoo...Han...Hanoom..., whoa, that is one hell of a last name you got there, lady."
Compared to the simplicity of Kit Dean, most names were complicated. She could count all the letters of her full name using two hands and that was just how she liked it.
The next pick was a credit card and another one after that, and even another one after that. Eventually, she was holding onto several cards in just one hand, leaving a baffled look to take over. Why exactly did one need to carry around so many credit cards? Six in counting seemed a bit excessive in Kit's mind, and credit cards weren't the prizes she was going after. It was the cash, settled at the bottom that made the whole little operation worth it.
Credit and debit cards could easily be shut off, sometimes easier to trace back once stolen, but cash money, was a friend to thieves. It didn't leave a trail and the little faces of former dead presidents greeted her with little smiles, ready to spent on whatever she wanted.
