Coda by Emma Trevayne Page A

through gapped teeth. I walk a little farther down the block and take out my tablet.
    You coming?_
    Buzz . Go without me. See you there._
    Phoenix and Mage are arguing about something in the corner, probably just for something to do. Mage isn’t taking her bait, and I laugh at Phoenix’s indignant scowl.
    “No Scope?” Johnny asks around the stub of a knife-sharpened he’s worn as long as I’ve known him and writes something down, hand trembling a little as it skates across the page. Maybe he needs to track.
    “Running late, I guess.”
    “Here. Burn it when you know them.” Johnny passes me the lyrics he was scribbling. I scan them quickly. Nice. A strain of melody playsthrough my head, something almost cynically upbeat to underscore the seething words.
    “Sorry, guys.” Scope jumps down from the ladder. Phoenix clears her throat. “And girl,” he adds.
    I’m about to point out that Scope’s left the trapdoor open, but a single footstep overhead freezes my voice and turns us all to statues with faces carved into masks of fear.
    All except Scope’s. “I—” he begins. A boot hits the top rung, its laces neon yellow.
    I don’t wait to see the rest of our . . . guest.
    Scope tries to wrench his arm away. I’m bigger and pissed. “What the hell, man? What is he doing here?” In a shadowed corner, as far as we can get from the others, his expression turns defiant.
    “He wanted to hear us play.”
    “And he knows we do . . . how, exactly?” Johnny asks, a few feet behind me. “Decided to show off or something? Damn it, Scope! Are you forgetting I was fucking followed here last week?”
    “Then it’s his risk to take! It was after his OD, okay? He said that, just once, he wished he could hear real music. Pure stuff. Was I supposed to ignore it?”
    “Uh, yeah,” I say, my eyes narrowing. “We all agreed.”
    His lip curls. “Just because you’re too scared to tell anyone . . .”
    “Fuck you.” I let go, ball my fists at my sides, and try to remember that there’s a whole group of witnesses to this and only Phoenix will find it funny. I’m surprised she’s not already laughing. “You think it’s only her I’m trying to protect? What about the twins? My father? Your mother and Pixel? You think the Corp won’t go after them if they find out about us?”
    “Johnny, Anthem,” Mage breaks in, “nothing we can do about it now.”
    Scope and I glare at each other.
    “What’s your problem? Still hung up on me? You ended it, remember.”
    My laughter fills the room. “Yeah, sure, that’s it.”
    “Then what?”
    “My problem is you’re an idiot. At least when we were together your brain was in your head, not your pants.”
    Johnny puts his hand on my shoulder. “Scope, man, you should’ve asked me.”
    “Sorry,” he mutters.
    I turn away. “Mage is right. Unless we can get a hold of a memory track, we’re stuck with this.” I’m only half kidding, but though I know the encoding to wipe memory—in a living subject—exists, I’ve only heard of it being used in special circumstances. “Look,” I say, squinting to find Yellow Guy in the gloom, “it’s nothing personal. We just don’t know you, and this is Johnny’s band. His rules.”
    “Should I leave?”
    We all look at Johnny, who shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter now. But tell anyone . . .” He trails off into a silence more menacing than anything he could have said.
    Yellow Guy holds up his hands. “Got it.”
    “You feeling better?” I ask.
    “Back to normal. Don’t remember much, honestly, except the pain.” He grimaces. “But the techs fixed me up.”
    “How long were you in?”
    “Got out on Monday. I’ve done nothing but sleep since.”
    “We’re wasting time,” Phoenix says, irritable now that the entertainment’s over. “So if you boys are all done, we should get in some actual, you know, playing before the switch.”
    “We only practice during the guards’ shift change,” Scopeexplains.