A Hard Knock Life: No Name (ch. 2) (Patreon)

I awoke to the harsh sound of an alarm blaring in my ear. No matter how tired I was, my body responded to old habits. Once I was up, then I was up. I swallowed a yawn as I pushed myself up, my back cracking with the action. A low groan escaped me as I shifted into a sitting position, my feet on the floor, while I rubbed gunk out of my eyes. Blinking away some blurriness, I looked down and saw that I had been so exhausted that I hadn't even managed to take off my boots before bed.

For a moment, I sat on my bed, my harsh alarm screeching in one ear. I could barely hear it. There was no momentarily bliss of ignorance, where I forgot what I had done last night. What I did and what I saw. In the shelving built into the frame of the bed, I saw a wad of bills and two OS cards. Pretty sure I saw them in my dreams.

"... Later," I told myself as I pushed myself onto my feet, peeling off my ratty red hoodie. Getting up, I tossed off an article of clothing as I headed to the shower. It was a studio apartment. As far as they went, and considering the price, it wasn't a complete dump. It came with a bed, a couch built into the wall, one separate room for storage, and a door that led to a bathroom.

I kept the floors clean but, as a result, junk cluttered every other surface of my apartment. I kept meaning to clean it out, just never got around to doing it. Wasn't like I had any parents to harp on me, and even if they were still here, they wouldn't have cared in the first place.

Reaching the shower, I stood under the faucet and let the hot water wash over me. It woke me up and the dried blood and sweat came right off with a thorough scrub. By the time I was done, I nearly felt like a new man. Standing before the mirror while I grabbed my toothbrush, I caught sight of my reflection. There were bags under my eyes, still making me look tired despite being wide awake.

I wasn't the worst looking guy in the world. Short black hair, blue eyes, and a strong jawline with a stubborn chin. I would probably look better with a beard, but it took me forever to grow one so I would be stuck with what amounted to pubes on my face for a month. Not worth it. Also could stand to gain a bit more muscle, but basic assistance didn't leave a lot to splurge on anything. Much less food.

Brushing my teeth and drying off, the timer on my coffee was done. The synth powdered stuff -- tasted absolutely awful, which is why it was cheap, and why I could drink it. Checking the time, I saw that I was still on time despite a late start. Getting dressed in a pair of black pants and a white thermal long sleeve, I turned to my door to head to school.

Only for my feet to come to an abrupt stop before I could reach the door. I stared at its surface for a moment, trying to will myself to take another step, but I failed. I just wasn't feeling it. Not after what happened. Swallowing a sigh, I chased it down with a sip of my awful coffee before I grabbed one of the guns that I had dumped by the door.

Sending a message to Lock, telling him that I wouldn't be coming to school that day, I cleared off my table and took a look at the rifle. Popping the magazine showed that it was mostly full, just missing a few bullets. A quick search showed me it was a D5 Copperhead. One of the most commonly used guns out there. The shotgun was a bit better in that regard. A Crusher shotgun -- they came with a magazine, similar to an assault rifle, to hold more shells. Unfortunately, the Maelstrom leader had fired more than a few of them before I picked it up.

They were decent pieces of iron. Even better, the ammo was common, thus cheap. I could pick some up today. And some extra for my Nue pistol. I would need to get some practice with them before I even thought about bringing them out, though. For now, I guess I could finally start using my closet for something. Maybe turn it into an armory.

"I'll need cleaning supplies too," I muttered to myself as I set the weapons down. I would also need to look into getting body armor. Not to mention implants. Now that I thought about it, this whole mercenary thing was expensive. But I was investing in myself, so I guess it all balanced out.

Now it was time to turn my attention to the things I had been avoiding. Getting up, I grabbed the OS cards -- both of them were sleek gray. If it wasn't for the lack of a logo, I would think that they were Corp grade. However, now that I was free of adrenaline and not standing in the dark, I noticed differences between them. Differences in the circuitry -- lines not matching up, stuff like that. It was enough to tell me that they weren't mass-produced.

"These were made by hand," I said, looking down at the cards. That made… absolutely no sense. Value was always something that was relative. Supply and demand and the lovely system of capitalism that drove the world to shit. Someone out there had the tech to make hardware that looked about as good as top of the line stuff. Yet, the price for a card was only twenty thousand.

Either the cards were shit despite appearances, or I was missing something here. At that price, you had better luck with a standard model OS. More reliable and you wouldn't have purchased it from a rival gang.

I flipped a card over, leaning back in my chair as I finished off my coffee. "Only one way to find out for sure," I remarked to myself. To find out what was on the OS, I needed to slot it in to give a looksie. "But… I'm not going to shove random shit into my head." Especially suspicious as hell shit. I did need to learn more, but I had alternatives. Like reaching out to Jonah… or paying a visit to Wakano.

She had arranged them to be stolen. It was likely that she had wanted it delivered too, and that was the part that Jonah had lied about. But, if I went to Wakano, then I would blow whatever story Jonah had given her and give myself a reputation as a rat. Not to mention that the fixer was a member of the Tyger Claws, one of the largest and most brutal gangs in the city.

I frowned and I stared down at the card, wanting to learn what was on it, but not willing to-...

"Oh, fuck," I cursed as I sprung out of my chair. I pulled up Lock's number, having never received a response from him, and called him. I paced the room as the phone rang, only for it to go to voicemail. So I called him again. And again. And a third time. The fourth time the call went straight to voicemail, telling me that he sent me to it. This time I left a message. "Lock, don't put the plug in your head! Don't even think about it! The plug is sketchy as hell, alright? Let me know if you get this."

Dragging a hand down my face, my mind went into a thousand different directions at once. It was probably nothing. There was no way that Lock would put an unknown plug in into his head, right? This was really basic stuff. That's how you ended up with viruses.

A second later, my phone rang and I snapped it up. Before I could even say a word, I heard Lock's voice on the other end. "V? I…" he trailed off and I half-collapsed into my bed, sitting down as I frowned deeply.

"You put it in your head," I realized. "When?" I demanded to know, my voice hard. He had to have gone to a ripperdoc. You couldn't install OS plugs like a datachip. They had to be installed.

Lock sighed, "Last night after you left. I… I wasn't thinking, I… I wanted to know if they were worth killing to get. I wasn't thinking clearly," He offered like that was an excuse. I should have said something back then, but I had been too wrapped up in my own head.

"Okay… okay, have you noticed anything off?" I questioned and there was a very telling few moments of silence.

"No, nothing," Lock said, and I knew him well enough to know what he sounded like when he was lying. "Are you worried that whoever made the tech can trace me because that's what I've been freaking out about."

My lips thinned, "Yeah… something like that. Just… where are you now? You aren't at school are you? I skipped."

"Yeah, I'm at school," Lock informed regretfully. "Mom showed up out of the blue, ripped into me about skipping school, and pretty much shoved me out of the door." That was some bad timing. "Are… V, can you come?"

"I'm on my way," I told him, springing up to my feet. My gaze lingered on a gun on the table. "Just walk out after class ends. I'll meet you at the gate," I told him, shoving the pistol into my waistline and pulling my shirt over it.

"Thanks, V," Lock said, but it sounded like he was telling me sorry. Whatever was on that plug was bad news. A tracer, probably. Meaning that I was walking into an ambush.

I hung up and grabbed the shotgun. I could buy a holster for it when I bought ammo a few floors down. I would need it for what I was about to walk into… with that thought in mind, I rang up someone else. Someone that might be able to help.

"I thought it would take you a while to ring me up," Jonah's voice rang out in my ear from my earpiece. "Hungry for more already?"

"Lock installed the plug and he's been had," I interrupted before Jonah could make a sales pitch while I went to the gun range that was a few floors down from me. Mega buildings had everything. You could spend your entire life in one, and more than some did.

Jonah let out a curse as I picked out a holster. One for the pistol that would go under my arm and another for my back with the idea of being concealed. This city really knew it's market. It and the ammo costed me enough scratch that I would have just blown my weekly budget, but I paid it no mind. All the while, Jonah cursed and raged. When he calmed down, I spoke up. "I might be walking into a trap. Lock sounded nervous, so I gotta assume that someone's there with a gun to his head."

"You're going the wrong way, kid. You don't walk into traps," Jonah advised, and it sounded like he was doing something. "You walk away from them. Lock must have squealed. We've been made by the ABB, so we need to leave the city."

That was the smart option. "You're leaving? Just like that?" I asked, feeling… caught off guard, for a lack of a better way to say it. I had no expectations, much less for him to offer to help, but it still caught me off guard at how fast he was willing to cut his losses. I suppose that was my fault considering how he dropped Casper and Cosmo.

"Just like that. Lock might be my cousin, but he's not worth dying for. Did you expect anything different?" He asked as I stepped into the elevator and pressed the bottom floor. The gate closed before taking me down.

"No. I'm calling to tell you if you don't help rescue Lock, then I'm giving Wakano a call," I told Jonah, revealing my real reason.

Jonah fell silent at that for a moment, "Kid, you have balls. But you have them for brains too," He responded, his voice harsh. "Go ahead and call the old bag. Tell her she can get fucked by her dead husbands and that they can all fit in the same grave. Her reach isn't that long." That wasn't what I wanted to hear. Actually, that was pretty much the exact opposite.

"Lose my number, V." Jonah ordered before the call came to an abrupt end. Not a second later, I got a notification that I had been blocked.

Right. I'm so telling Wakano now. But, first, I had to walk into an ambush. Revenge on Jonah could come after.

…

The school building looked like a max security prison. Only, unlike normal prisons, the guards couldn't care less if you walked out in the middle of serving your sentence. At every entrance and exit were scanners that would lock the area down if they found a weapon. Bars were on every window, because the building couldn't afford to replace every piece of glass with the unbreakable stuff.

Across the street was Mac and Meet -- a run of the mill diner that I sat in, waiting for Lock to show up. I sat towards the back, keeping an eye on everyone who came into the diner. All I knew was that Lock was in a spot of trouble. His voice had given that away. What he said… was probably a tip-off. I already sent him a text to meet me -- given that it was a public place, I hoped that would deter any overt action.

I swallowed a sigh, shifting to a more comfortable position so the shotgun on my back wasn’t poking into me as much. The promised comfort and no awkward positioning was a flat out lie from the adverts that convinced me to buy the holster. No surprise there. Glancing outside of the window, I saw a fly perched on the glass, likely looking at me, waiting for some food to be delivered to me. I paid it no mind in favor of giving Lock my full attention when he walked outside.

He looked like crap. Like he had stayed up all night. His naturally tanned skin had a ghostly quality to it, and he seemed to flinch at every noise as he crossed the street. There was no one following him, from the looks of it. Was it because there was no one there, or were they just hanging back? Or was I already in the room with them?

Lock walked into the rundown diner. It was in desperate need of a thorough cleaning. A cockroach scurried across the floor when Lock slid into the booth across from me. He offered me a wane smile that came out more like a grimace. “V… I… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Lock apologized, looking down at the table, his voice thick with emotion.

I was quiet for a moment, my gaze sweeping over the room. No one seemed to be paying any attention to us. But, that was hardly reassuring given how the conversation had started off. “Lock… how bad is it?” I asked, wanting to know what I was getting myself into. I was here. Alone. I was already in over my head and outgunned. I would just like to know what kind of outgunned I was.

“It’s bad, V. Really bad-” Lock started before he suddenly cut himself off. His face twisted, almost as if someone shoved a sour tart in his mouth with no warning. His eyes darted up to mine, revealing that he was on the verge of tears. “I… it’s the ABB. They know we hit the deal.”

That much I already knew. “Figured,” I admitted with a shrug. “So, how many are here? How’d they contact you?” I asked, making Lock lean back in his seat. He looked down for a few moments, a hand going up to his port, only to lower it a second before his fingers could touch it.

“When I booted up, I got contacted by the gi- woman that made the cards. She’s ABB. I… I think she’s a cape,” Lock explained in a low tone, clasping his hands before him. That was very not good. As far as bad news went, that just about took the cake. “There’s no one here. There doesn't have to be.” Lock let out a bone-weary sigh that made me shift in my seat. Leaning forward, he looked me in the eyes and I saw his were full of defeat.

“The OS card is a bomb, V. I put a goddamn bomb in my head,” Lock muttered bitterly. The words were like a fist to the gut, knocking the breath from me.

I had no clue what to say. What could I say?

“How did the ripperdoc not catch that?” I asked, feeling completely out of my depth. I became all too aware of everyone in the diner. None were potential enemies. They were all potential victims. It wasn’t just a bomb, but it was a tinker-tech bomb. I had no clue what it could do. Would it just take out Lock or was everyone in the block at risk?

Lock shrugged, “It had a normal system when he ran the checks. I only realized what it was when I woke up in the middle of the night with a woman screaming in my ear. She… wasn’t happy that we stole the OS drives.” There was something that he wasn’t telling me.

“She told you to go to school?” I realized, a pit forming in my stomach. It only worsened when Lock gave a slow nod. Fuck. Holy fucking shit. Oh, fucking fucking fuck. “What does the bomb do, Lock?” What would happen if it went off? Was this woman crazy? She was going to take out a school? What the actual fuck?

“I don’t know,” Lock answered quickly.

“And you went along with it?” I questioned in a low hiss that made Lock wilt. “Why-”

“Because she can hear everything I do. She knows where I am! If I didn’t, then she would have detonated the bomb!” Lock snapped me in a low whisper. “I… I thought… I don’t know V. I thought that it would be better that when she killed me that it wasn’t in the megabuilding. Then, when I was on the subway… V, I didn’t get a chance to pick a low population spot to die at, okay?” My lips thinned at the sheer desperation in his voice. The anguish. Lock was a poor liar. It’s why I always knew when he was lying.

He wasn’t lying about this.

I fell silent, reeling. There was no way out of this. If the woman, the cape, knew about Lock, then she knew about me. There was nowhere I could run. But I didn’t come here to run.

“Okay,” I started, nodding to myself, desperately wishing I had ordered something. “This cape, is she still listening?” In response to that, my phone rang. Every hair I had stood on end. That answered that question. Lock cradled his head in his hands while I answered my phone. There was no preparing for this, so I wouldn’t try.

“Hello there,” a modulated voice greeted me. Clearly female, but scrambled to hide her true voice. “I have to say, you’re holding up better than I thought you would. Lock told me all about you, V. Robbing me was your first job? Talk about bad luck.” V. She was calling me V. Holy shit, Lock really didn’t know my real name.

I looked at Lock -- I had assumed that he had spilled everything, but it was another thing hearing it. “That more or less sums up my thoughts. Would it help if I said I was sorry?” I tried, trying to find my footing. It was like I was free-falling after falling off a mountain. I needed to get a grip, find what I could leverage, and leverage the absolute motherfuck out of it for everything I could.

The cape chuckled. It was an odd sound. “No, it wouldn’t. You put me in quite the pickle, V. Those bombs were meant to go to Maelstrom. A little surprise for them. Now, one of them is in your best buddies head, you have two and this Jonah fella has the other two.” There was an edge in her tone and a silent demand.

“I didn’t bring the OS cards with me. Thought I could use them as a bargaining chip,” I said.

“Do you think you’re in a position to bargain, V?” The cape questioned, making it clear that the answer was no. And she really enjoyed dropping my name. She knew Jonah’s name, but not mine. So, Lock didn’t know my name… and she didn’t likely know much about me. Lock had never been to my apartment, and I had edited my school information in preparation for becoming a merc.

“Absolutely not,” I answered swiftly. That earned an approving sound from her. A promising sign. “But, I would like to try to anyway. You never know, there might be a way that we all walk away from this little incident happy and better off than we were before.” Pure, unfiltered bullshit. The look on Lock’s face told me that he thought as much too.

There was a beat of silence as the cape on the other end seemed to consider that. “I don’t see that happening,” she admitted, not in a position that she had to lie.

“An example would be our current location,” I started, talking out of my ass. Just saying things and hoping something would stick. “As far as I know, no one knows that the ABB has a tinker. You kill us both here, and the NCPD will have to investigate. That means capes, and one thing leads to another. Then the secret is out and the ABB is under scrutiny that it doesn't need.”

It was a risk. She could just as easily have Lock go to school to blow it up, announcing her presence to the city. Or… she could have had Lock go to school to find me. Then I would be in the same situation, only worse because I would be around a lot of people.

“What are you offering here? I let the two of you find a quiet place to die?” She asked, hitting the nail on the head. At least then I could find a way to mitigate the damage. I did not want a shit ton of people dying because of me and Lock.

I nodded to myself, “Exactly. I won’t try to run. You still have us both by the balls.” I reassured her, because she did very much have us both by the balls.

“I do, don’t I?” The woman sounded practically elated by that fact. Enough so that it translated over the modulator. “Go right on ahead, V. Walk out of the diner, go left… then walk into the alley on your right. Don’t want you to go too far.” She offered and with legs that felt like they were going to give out on me, I stood up. Lock followed a half-second later, clasping a hand on my wrist. He could have been doing it for reassurance, only it seemed more likely to be an order from the mystery cape.

However, the location was telling. She was taking us to a place with fewer people, but if there was a blast radius then they would still be affected. That either meant that she wasn’t following through, or that there was no blast radius. Whatever was in Lock’s head, it might just affect him. Or only the people in his immediate vicinity. Maybe it needed direct contact to spread?

Regardless, I followed her instructions. I half expected to find ABB in the alley, only to find it empty. The two of us walked in, coming to a stop when the woman gave the word. “And there you go. Aren’t I so generous? How about a thank you?”

“Thank you,” I complied instantly. “And… I don’t suppose I could get a name, could I? You know mine already,” I spoke, leaning against a wall while Lock hovered nearby. He didn’t say a word. He just looked down at his feet.

Another beat of silence. “Bakuda,” Bakuda answered, and my translator translated the word to Bomb. Lovely. “This whole display of yours is pretty cute, but let's cut to the chase, shall we? You screwed me over and I really, really, really want you to die for that. Preferably as painfully as possible. If I could get that Jonah guy too with one bomb, then all the better. Still, two for one isn't bad.” Right.

“We did screw you over, but I would like a chance to make it right in exchange for our lives,” I offered, thinking on my feet. “You wanted the bombs to get to Maelstrom? We still have the other four if you don’t feel like taking the one out of Lock’s head. There’s also the cash. You can have both,” I continued. Both were lies. Jonah was fleeing the city. Admitting that now would undo any progress I had made. Then there wouldn’t be anything to talk about.

Bakuda scoffed at that, “Lock hasn’t impressed. Did a background on Jonah too -- a deadbeat that’s probably spent my money on drugs by now. And you… you’re about as fresh-faced as it gets. You can’t do what I want you to.”

“I could try though,” I insisted. “You’re going to kill me anyway, right? Either here and now, or it could be on the job that you want done. It doesn't matter to you, right?” Talking to people was all about learning what they wanted and what you could give them. Convince them that you doing what you wanted was in their best interest? Then you’d get what you wanted every time.

Bakuda just told me what she wanted -- something to do with the Maelstrom and my death. That made things… easier to twist in my favor.

“Just tell me what it is-”

“I want the Maelstrom dead,” Bakuda interjected, her tone amused. “All of them. The bombs were going to some of their leaders and their clubs. Would have wiped them out to the last, along with everyone else that happened to be there. Pure fucking brilliance thwarted by a couple of idiots.” There was a dangerous edge in her tone that sent a shiver down my spine. She talked about mass murder as if it was nothing, and was thoroughly annoyed with me for getting in her way.

It was crazy to even consider. The Maelstrom just… gone. Undone by whatever the bombs did. They weren't a large gang compared to others, but their love for implants meant they usually hit way above their weight class. Bakuda wanted them all dead. And I had just inadvertently offered to kill them for her.

There was no way. Absolutely no way.

“I’m not going to lie to you -- that might be a little beyond my ability, but I can still give it a shot,” I hastily offered, trying to keep the desperation out of my voice. I failed based on the look that Lock gave me. “If you have doubts, then I can go back to my apartment and I’ll install one of the cards. Same with Jonah. We’ll hit the Maelstrom for you. It might not be as fast as you would like, but we can get it done.”

It wasn’t going to work. I knew that the moment I heard Baduka cackling on the other end.

“Nah, I’m good,” Baduka dismissed the offer before the call ended. With wide eyes, I turned to Lock, my body freezing up as it really settled in what that meant. Lock, on the other hand, had a different reaction.

He threw himself away from me the moment he realized that the deal had fallen apart. No thought, no hesitation -- he just moved. I saw his back for a split second, a hand going to reach for him. Not a second later, the bomb detonated. There was no flash of light or an explosion, or heat. What I saw was a million times worse.

When Lock landed, his body was reduced to ash. Flesh and hair gave way, turning gray, almost preserving his shape until he hit the ground. A cloud of ash, of Lock, went up. I couldn’t breathe, some part of my brain refusing to accept what had just happened before my eyes. That I had just watched my friend die… after I failed to talk us out of a bad situation.

I stumbled a step back, and it was that action that saved me. The ash hovered in the air, landing on the tip of my left hand. I felt no pain, so I failed to notice it for a moment, but my fingers also began to collapse into ash. They fell from my hand, hitting the ground and almost landing on my feet. They would have if I hadn’t backpedaled, staring at my hand in absolute horror.

I was about to die. The thought was ice cold, hitting me as if I had just been dunked in cold water. My thoughts shifted into a gear I had never experienced before -- I had been in plenty of bad spots, but never anything like this. I had always wondered what my reaction would be to death. It had never been something that I really feared, but I figured that was because I had never nearly died before.

It was like everything in my brain snapped into place. Like I knew exactly what I needed to do to survive. No hesitation, no uncertainty, no fear… no, that wasn’t true. I was so damn afraid that it looped back around, and I was almost calm as the hand that wasn’t being reduced to ash went behind my back to grab hold of the shotgun.

The ash spread up my hand, across my forearm. I didn’t have time to hesitate or to think. I just had to get rid of my arm before it killed me.

With that thought in mind, I pressed the barrel against my arm just below the elbow, not far from where the ash was creeping up.

I pulled the trigger. The shell ripped through flesh and bone, tearing through it like it wasn’t even there. There wasn’t any pain, and I couldn’t tell if that was a good thing, but I couldn’t stop. So, I pulled the trigger a second time and a third time. A bloody stump hit the ground before it was consumed by ash, quickly followed by the shotgun.

“Ahh…” I breathed, a hand going to the stump where my arm had been a moment ago. Blood seeped between my fingers as I backpedaled, nearly tripping over my feet. Staring at it was all I could do. There was no ash, so I had accomplished what I needed to do. Only, I had exchanged one problem with another. I just performed surgery with a shotgun. That’s when the pain hit me, knocking the breath out of me.

My body trembled like a leaf, forcing me to lean against the wall for support. I looked at the pile of ash that had once been Lock. There were pieces of cybernetics left behind, sticking out of the pile of ash. Bakuda planned to harvest the Maelstrom for their tech.

And I… Lock… I…

“Fuck!” I shouted, tears stinging at my eyes as my chest heaved. Blood dripped from the stump, hitting the ground to form a small pool. This was… I… This… If only I had… if I coulda… I should have been able to do something. I… I should… I should have disabled the bomb before it could blow. I should have taken the cards to a ripper doc for a thorough inspection, I should… I should have been better.

My eyes just about rolled to see the back of my head when something in the back of my head… snapped into place. For a moment, my vision swam with my guts tying themselves into knots. It was for that reason that I thought that the arrow of cockroaches on the wall on the other side of the alley was a figment of my imagination.

They crawled there, remaining in place. Swallowing thickly, I looked at the arrow before looking in the direction that it was pointing. There was another down the alleyway, taking me into a gap between the buildings. It was only then that I realized that I heard shouting -- shots near a school. The police in this city were absolute garbage, but they would at least take that seriously.

A figment of my imagination or not, I had to get out of here.

Clutching my stump of an arm, I stumbled forward, following the bugs. My head felt so light, almost like I was floating on a cloud. Even still, I shambled through the alley, finding another arrow of bugs to lead me on my way. It was only when I found myself walking down another back alley that was suspiciously empty that I realized the whole situation was odd.

Bugs and arrows? That wasn’t normal. Someone was controlling them. I had questions, but they could wait. My gaze dipped down to my stump to find it was covered in blood, soaking my sleeve. The bleeding had slowed, though. I… watched a documentary once about how blood vessels contracted when something had been severed to reduce the bleeding. I could only hope that it was true.

Otherwise, I was dead.

The bugs led me down another alley, and I had gotten myself lost following them. For all I knew, they could be leading me in circles, and I doubt that I would notice. All I could do was put one foot in front of the other and keep the pressure on my bleeding stump. It could have been minutes, or it could have been hours for all I knew, but the bugs led me to a narrow street. On one side there were strippers, on the other there was a mad man screaming about techno-mancers.

An arrow of cockroaches pointed to a door and I didn’t hesitate to enter. It was a dark place -- a counter on one side, a few chairs on the other with what looked like religious items scattered about. Or occult. Inside were two people -- a large Hispanic looking guy with his hair shaved down at the sides and the top pulled into a tight bun. The other was a woman who was behind the counter -- blonde hair that was puffed out and cut short, dark-colored lipstick and wearing a spiked choker.

She saw me first, her head popping up from the hand she was leaning on. That got the guy’s attention, making him glance over his shoulder just in time to see me nearly fall down a few stairs. He moved, reaching out to me as he looked down at my stump, “Careful there -- are you here for Vik?” He questioned, though he seemed to assume the answer, because he started hauling me to a back room.

I swallowed thickly, bleeding with each step I took. “Depends on if he’s a ripper… sorry about your carpet,” I muttered when the guy led me out of the… whatever that place was into a back alley, then down some stairs.

“Vik? Yeah, he’s the best at what he does. He’ll have you an arm better than your old one,” the guy reassured, moving me around with alarming ease as he brought me down a set of stairs. Down into what looked like a gated off basement. Did I just get-?

Before I could even finish the thought, the guy all but kicked down the gate, “VIK! Hope you’re not busy,” he shouted as he carried me into a room. There, I saw a ripperdoc setup. A chair to lay down in, various utensils, and tools for installing implants.

“Jackie- get him on the table,” Vik said, looking up from his desk/entertainment area based on the fact he was watching a fight. He was tall, well built with dark hair and glasses on despite the poor lighting in the room. Which mostly came from neon. The guy, Jackie apparently, did as ordered and I all but collapsed into the chair. “What happened?”

I licked my lips, trying to find a drop of moisture in my mouth. It seemed I had sweated it all out. Or bled it. “I… surgically removed my arm… with a shotgun,” I muttered, making Jackie’s eyebrows shoot high while Vik administered an anesthetic. Near instantly, I felt the pain vanish in my stump.

“How’d you make a screw up like that?” Vik wondered, inspecting the stump. Jackie stood to the side, his arms crossed.

“Didn’t screw up. There was a tinker-tech bomb. Turned… turned my friend to ash right in front of me… spread through contact. So,” I gestured to my arm, or what was left of it. To that, Jackie let out a low whistle. Vik traded a look with him, making Jackie pat a gun that was at his hip. Though, he looked at me with remorse.

“Sorry to hear about your friend, but we have to know -- could you infect us?” He asked, and I knew if I said it was a possibility, he would throw me out of the place just as easily as he carried me in. Even kindness had its limits in this city.

I shook my head, “If I was infected with whatever it was, then I’d already be dead.” That answer seemed to satisfy them. That was good.

Because I passed out right after that.