Matheus flew down the street, leaving the McMansions and Lexuses behind. Gasps followed as he passed, but Matheus ignored them. He crossed the river to the grittier side of the city. Darting through traffic, he narrowly missed becoming a hood ornament on a semi’s grill. The buildings shifted to concrete and sheet metal, uniform and bland. No sidewalks in this part of the city. Storage facilities didn’t attract sightseers. Matheus slowed, forcing himself to count off each step. Vibrations travelled up and down his legs, like trying to walk on a limb that’d fallen asleep. He shoved his fists in his pockets to spare his nails.
A car passed, too fast on the narrow road. Matheus pressed himself against the concrete building, watching as the car turned down an alleyway. He checked the paper still clenched in his hand, but he hadn’t seen a street sign or number for fifteen minutes.
Stopping at the entrance to the alley, he peered around the corner. A line of cars waited to enter an underground parking garage. A pair of guards stood outside. As Matheus watched, one of the guards checked IDs, while the other circled around the car. After a minute, the first guard handed back the ID. The gate creaked open, the car disappearing into the garage.