Day 7:Clean mind

7 am

Woke up too fucking early. Sitting in my hole, my cave, my pit of doom. Since I got home last night, Been cleaning worked to smell not of old takeout and dirty clothing. 12 loads of laundry running in the basement; shit, it's shocking it still runs. The machine was my father's, and before that, it was my grandmother's.

But today it's good it's working that old clean machine. Clothing washes in 30 minutes, dries out in 15. One do it all machine, from when the dome was filled with hope, and good cheap goods and not a pool of greed and filth.

Shit, hard to think back. Only 60 years ago, the Corporates still on the side of the consumers. Man, when they first built the dome, after New Zealand and Australia had the accident. When, the first nuke went soaring out of the Middle East, sent that way by the Cult of Atom.

Nothing but religious zeal from them, the history books tell us. They worshiped atomic fire, saying only through bathing the world in its glory. Can mankind indeed be free to enjoy the world. They sure did make a paradise on earth, rad lands, mutants, dome city. Corporate slaves, thank you, Cult of Atom. Poverty, no escape, bleak land filled with greed, drugs, violence, and sex. Good fucking job whack jobs.

Aint' like it makes a bit of difference, what got us into dis mess. Now, we are stuck in the world of the dome, slaving and fighting, killing for a better tomorrow and shit. But, now, this is almost done, exhausted as a mother fucker. I'm looking at these profiles now. Pick my team.

Hammershark

Brute force, skilled at getting in and out.

Not my style, but might be useful. Always need a bruiser.

TheFae

Trickster uses social media combined with a dash of social engineering.

Hell yeah, need a con!

Clicking the first time marking them green, as I swipe to the right with my hand. Watching the names go into the to be hired file, my heart sinks as I read the next.

MaryMary

She is alive. Fucking Hell, how the fuck is she active. Memories floating into my skull, so many good times on the edge with MaryMary. Part of a rival group, trying to be the first and trying to be the best. My hand is hovering over the name as I swipe it to the right. She is reasonable, super good. But why is she freelance now? This would have to wait.

JasonBlood

This was another classic name, but I heard he was dead. Well, he is an encrypter, and a trace hider the same profile. As I remove the plug from my neck, I swipe to the right, only need 4 and got my three new hires, so to speak.

Sleep time, but it would not take me too much in my mind. Too much in my fingertips, too much worry and stress fear. Everything had changed so quickly, and the real question is why me. I mean, just a street kid with a decent old time ago rep, but aint' been around. This might be a setup. I might be taking a fall. But ya know what, it's worth it for being able to dance on the digital again.

Chaser aint' care about the digital. That is the Corporate Gambinos, and the security of theirs. I aint' wanna get on those mother fucker bad side, but each decker knows one day they will be looking down at a gorilla, more metal than flesh. Ready to pounce on you for poking your nose into the wrong honey pot, ready to bleed and kill and tear for the one's holding the leash. On that day is the end of times for the decker, but then it's one hell of a fucking ride.

LOGGING OUT, getting some sleep.