the muddy pavement and I rolled toward the four-wheeler, shouts following me. I pushed myself under the vehicle and rolled to the opposite side; in the pitch dark I figured I’d disappeared, as far as the others were concerned. Pulling myself up into a crouch on the other side, I peered around, finally spying two shadows creeping up toward us, pressed against the embankment, two assholes who couldn’t be sure I hadn’t caught some rifle fire, and who couldn’t pass up the vehicle. The battery and solar collector alone were worth the risk.
I steadied myself against the body of the car and took a careful bead; no sense in wasting bullets. I took another breath—and suddenly sensed someone behind me, a last-second wet smack of bare feet against the pavement. I ducked and someone scraped me, knocking my head painfully into the solid metal of the wheel well and rolling with a grunt onto the pavement. My vision lit up red and I sprawled on the ground, rain drilling down onto me, into my eyes and mouth, choking me.
Before I could get up, they were on me—a kid. Fifty pounds, maybe, tiny hands on my wrist, digging in nails and trying to pound the gun out of my hand. I reached up blindly and took hold of some wet, greasy hair and yanked with all I had, spinning them off me and getting a screech as a reward. I rolled away and pushed myself up in time to see a dark shape leaping for me. I swung my gun at it and clubbed it down just as two more shapes skidded from behind the four-wheeler. They slid to a halt as I raised my arm, putting their arms up as if I gave a shit. Before they could say anything, I fired twice and put them both down.
The kid was a few feet away, sniffling. Warily, I stood up and limped over to the huddled shape. My leg didn’t normally bother me these days, with my implants regulating my pain, but during times of exertion the dull ache, familiar and dreadful, faded back in like a signal being picked up.
I circled around. I saw myself leaning over the kid and getting a razor in my face for my trouble, so I took some time.
“The other three are dead,” I said. “You know how to work that chain?”
The kid—I didn’t know if it was a boy or a girl—sniffled. I stood over it and clicked the hammer back on my Roon. It was drama, but drama sometimes got your point across.
“You know how to work that chain?” I said.
After a moment, there was one last heroic sniffle. “ Si ,” a tiny girl’s voice whispered. It sounded like defeat. It sounded like not eating and having no one to walk home with. As I stood there she hauled herself up, a scrap of shadow, four feet tall and nothing but bones, and limped back to the chain. I watched until she’d blended into the darkness and then pretended I could still see her. Another few seconds were measured out by cold water soaking into me and the thick chain suddenly went limp, dropping back to the ground.
I limped over to the car and the door popped up as I approached. I slid in and let the door sink shut, sealing me in. I looked at Adora, who was staring at me, then at myself in the dim reflection afforded by the glass. I’d opened up a gash on my forehead, and blood ran down my face like ink. I’d thought it was rain. I thought of the kid, slogging home alone in the storm, nothing to show for it. Had I just saved her from three assholes? Killed her family? I’d never know.
Adora shook herself and put the four-wheeler into reverse. “Holy shit,” she muttered.
I closed my eyes, hearing that wet sniffle. Avery Cates , Salgado suddenly whispered, sounding somehow mean in my head, the Gweat and Tewwible, scourge of children everywhere. “Sorry about the blood,” I said, feeling empty, wanting to do some violence, break some windows. I flicked the safety back on and pocketed my gun.
LIKE FATHER FUCKING TIME IN THE FLESH
I missed the fucking System Pigs.
I left the door open and leaned back against the four-wheeler’s chassis, feeling its warmth
I steadied myself against the body of the car and took a careful bead; no sense in wasting bullets. I took another breath—and suddenly sensed someone behind me, a last-second wet smack of bare feet against the pavement. I ducked and someone scraped me, knocking my head painfully into the solid metal of the wheel well and rolling with a grunt onto the pavement. My vision lit up red and I sprawled on the ground, rain drilling down onto me, into my eyes and mouth, choking me.
Before I could get up, they were on me—a kid. Fifty pounds, maybe, tiny hands on my wrist, digging in nails and trying to pound the gun out of my hand. I reached up blindly and took hold of some wet, greasy hair and yanked with all I had, spinning them off me and getting a screech as a reward. I rolled away and pushed myself up in time to see a dark shape leaping for me. I swung my gun at it and clubbed it down just as two more shapes skidded from behind the four-wheeler. They slid to a halt as I raised my arm, putting their arms up as if I gave a shit. Before they could say anything, I fired twice and put them both down.
The kid was a few feet away, sniffling. Warily, I stood up and limped over to the huddled shape. My leg didn’t normally bother me these days, with my implants regulating my pain, but during times of exertion the dull ache, familiar and dreadful, faded back in like a signal being picked up.
I circled around. I saw myself leaning over the kid and getting a razor in my face for my trouble, so I took some time.
“The other three are dead,” I said. “You know how to work that chain?”
The kid—I didn’t know if it was a boy or a girl—sniffled. I stood over it and clicked the hammer back on my Roon. It was drama, but drama sometimes got your point across.
“You know how to work that chain?” I said.
After a moment, there was one last heroic sniffle. “ Si ,” a tiny girl’s voice whispered. It sounded like defeat. It sounded like not eating and having no one to walk home with. As I stood there she hauled herself up, a scrap of shadow, four feet tall and nothing but bones, and limped back to the chain. I watched until she’d blended into the darkness and then pretended I could still see her. Another few seconds were measured out by cold water soaking into me and the thick chain suddenly went limp, dropping back to the ground.
I limped over to the car and the door popped up as I approached. I slid in and let the door sink shut, sealing me in. I looked at Adora, who was staring at me, then at myself in the dim reflection afforded by the glass. I’d opened up a gash on my forehead, and blood ran down my face like ink. I’d thought it was rain. I thought of the kid, slogging home alone in the storm, nothing to show for it. Had I just saved her from three assholes? Killed her family? I’d never know.
Adora shook herself and put the four-wheeler into reverse. “Holy shit,” she muttered.
I closed my eyes, hearing that wet sniffle. Avery Cates , Salgado suddenly whispered, sounding somehow mean in my head, the Gweat and Tewwible, scourge of children everywhere. “Sorry about the blood,” I said, feeling empty, wanting to do some violence, break some windows. I flicked the safety back on and pocketed my gun.
LIKE FATHER FUCKING TIME IN THE FLESH
I missed the fucking System Pigs.
I left the door open and leaned back against the four-wheeler’s chassis, feeling its warmth
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