The sliver of moon was bright in the sky. It was a cloudless and chilly evening in South Sacramento.
Martha had asked Jim to meet her and Dillon within the nominal Tenurial Zone of Rosemont-Mather at 20:00 at the corner of Waterman and Sheldon. Tucked between the wastelands Elk Grove a steady stream of commuter traffic made use of the freeway. Martha stood at the junction and adjusted her hat.
There was no wind and the reek of exhaust fumes hung in the air to sting at the nose of the predator.
Elk Grove. She looked about and studied the location. The low density properties. Not far along Sheldon the bare frames of girders and joists of half completed housing stood stark against the soft glow of street lighting. Close by stood a scattering of run down stores selling feed and supplies...half a dozen rough looking liquor stores and a dozen pale painted houses.
Martha was dressed in her usual sensible shoes, her new C-Leg peeked from her calf length gymslip. She wore her black blazer and hat. Twin tails were neat and held in place by red ribbon bows. Her satchel hung from a shoulder and seemed to be bulkier than usual. Her simple metal walking cane was clutched to her chest as she and Dillon ( Wolven Pryde ) studied the lay out of the streets and terrain and paid attention for threats.
Several bunches of wilted and long dessicated flowers with sun bleached memoriam cards were fastened to a street lamp. Dedications and memorials to another young life taken on the busy road.
With wide eyes, Martha looked at the speed of the Toyota that rushed along, desperate to overtake the slower Ford at the junction. Blinking as the harsh horns of the cars sounded, Martha clutched at her cane and watched with wide eyes the display of foolish and aggressive driving. Trying a bashful smile, Martha turned to limp back towards Dillon and await their companion for the evening's Patrol.