Elementa Naturae - A Cold Day in Hell

Connor III

7:43pm EDT

Water gushed along the gutters, dragging along anything it could as it fell furiously into drains across the city. The air was filled with moisture, soaking any poor creature that couldn't find shelter from the rain and wind. Gales pulled water off the surface of the Hudson River, spraying it across the embankments. The sun was a distant memory, it's warm glow long dissipated behind layers of clouds, before slowly setting on an indiscernible horizon. The onslaught had begun, and it showed no signs of stopping.

Connor Layman, using his satchel for cover, darted between storefronts and building entrances in an impossible attempt to stay dry. Now across the plaza from Scott Sullivan Williams, he was faced with a fifty-metre journey across open pavement. Normally bustling with activity, it was mostly empty, the occasional wanderer rushing between the food vendors that lined the space. Glancing up towards the pouring heavens, Connor shrugged his shoulders and ran. Shoes flooded, hair sticking to his forehead, he bolted uncomfortably across the open space, focusing on the puddles that dotted his path.

In just over twenty seconds he cleared the forum, and stood still for a moment, regaining his breath in the shelter provided by the entranceway to the monolithic structure. As the doors slid open, he glanced to his right, noticing a lowly figure huddled at the bus stop down from the plaza. By his side sat a small box, saturated by the endless storm. Connor could just make out the unmistakable blonde hair glowing in the lamplight.

Connor rushed over to the bus stop, shaking the drops off his satchel when he reached the meagre shelter it provided.

"Jack?"

The figure sitting on the bench looked up as he heard his name. His voice flat, he replied "Oh, hey Connor."

"What're you doing out here? Surely you haven't finished that permit case already?" he grinned.

"Miss Scott sent everyone home. She didn't want us getting caught in the storm."

Connor sat alongside his colleague, looking concerned at the dishevelled figure beside him.

"That's not all, is it?"

"Williams fired me."

"He what?" Connor's brows furrowed as he lifted up his jacket collar for extra protection against the irregular gusts of wind and rain.

"For breach of contract, or something of the sort."

Connor considered for a second as a truck marked 'Red Hand Removals' sped past, sending more water cascading through the air.

"Well...?"

"Well what?"

"...did you?"

Jack wiped his face and flicked the excess drops to the ground. "What do you think Connor?"

"OK, OK, I'm sorry."

Mindlessly fidgeting with his hair, Jack muttered to himself, "Why can I never hold on to a good thing? This was the one time. The one time they trusted me enough to do actually do something."

Growing more and more concerned for his friend, Connor gripped his shoulder. "What happened...?"

As Jack opened his mouth to reply, Connor continued "...exactly."

"Well... he came storming in to the bullpen a couple of hours after you two went off and told me to come to his office. When I did, he fired me. I asked why, and he said that I'd broken my contract by revealing privileged information to someone outside the firm."