Rapture Noir: Storm Warning

I let out an extended yawn and stretched myself awake. Fighting the urge to get up and start my day I pulled the sheets up to my neck. It was a lazy Sunday morning, no case, no plans, just me and her.

Her. My girl. Elizabeth. It still felt odd to say that. She slowly climbed on top of me from her side of the bed, smiling mischievously. Christ, had it really been a month? "Good morning, want to keep me company? Your bed feels real cozy this morning and I'm not in a hurry to leave."

One month. Knowing that, somehow, your city and your life was going to collapse around you in two months time put a strain on things. Knowing how you were supposed to stop it made it even worse. she was right I had been better off not knowing. Especially at times like this.

I kissed her deeply, but she withdrew before we got too entangled. "You should go check the Pneumo first." She whispered in my ear.

Groaning in an exaggerated show of disappointment I quickly threw on some clothes. Her kisses on my neck and fingers running through my unkempt hair didn't make leaving the bed any easier. Just there and back, you've got no plans, no case, it's just me and her.

Over the past few weeks Elizabeth had slowly become something of a fixture in my day to day life. Things were rough at first, and we still had our fights. But we slowly settled into something like a routine, barring one of her occasional disappearances. It was no longer a surprise when I'd find her waiting for me outside my office, or when she called on me after a night at the Kashmir. Rock would probably tell me I'm becoming soft. Maybe he'd be right.

I stepped out into the hall and nearly tripped crossing the threshold. Get your head out of the clouds, Booker. Downstairs I found my Pneumo covered in a bland looking poster that read 'WHO IS ATLAS'? I can't say I particularly gave a shit so I tore it off and checked my mail. A letter? Maybe I did have a case. Damn.

I read and re-read the letter, absentmindedly touching the bruise under my left eye. Damn, it's Abigail's boss. My last contact with Abigail had been...messy, and not something I was hoping to relive anytime soon. But here it was, according to her boss Abigail's been missing for a week and, job or no, I couldn't just let that stand. A week, that's about the last time I saw her. Christ, what a mess.

I folded the letter and made my way back to my warm bed to deliver the bad news.