A Hard Knock Life: The Boys of Summer (ch. 3) (Patreon)

I had watched Lock die. My friend. I watched him die trying to save my life. There had been no dramatic farewell. There was no moment where time seemed to slow down or anything like that. Just one moment where I realized that I was dead, and the next when I realized I was going to live, because Lock hadn't hesitated. He just… moved. There was no momentary bliss that I had managed to forget that fact. The moment consciousness returned to me, the thought slammed into me like a brick.

"Fuck me," I groaned, forcing my eyes open, only to shut them again when all I saw was a bright light that sent daggers into my eyes. I heard a chair roll over the ground nearby.

"Not pretty enough for that, kid," a gruff voice remarked. Holding up a hand, I blocked the light shining directly into my eyes so I could turn and crack them open. I saw a guy sitting in a chair, looking at a monitor next to me. Vik, I think his name was. "Looks like you're taking to the arm well," he remarked, gesturing to me.

Oh. Right. I glanced up to see a metallic arm blocking the light. Vik did me a favor by pushing the light away, letting me inspect it. A solid metallic gray forearm, matching the hand, with a black wire mesh to protect the nooks and crannies. Pushing back my sleeve, I saw that the elbow was gone too. I moved it like I would my normal hand, and it obeyed with a slight whirring sound.

"It's an older model, but it's what I had on… eh, on hand," Vik said, having the opportunity to avoid the pun but choosing not to. "I had to take the elbow too. A gifted surgeon, you are not -- buckshot destroyed pretty much everything below the bicep." He explained while I tested out the arm. "It doesn’t have any fancy gizmos or anything, but it's reliable. And it can take a beating and still work, which is more than I can say for half of the overpriced junk people use nowadays."

That explained why I couldn't feel anything below the bicep of my left arm. Modern arms had sensors. The high-end ones weren't any different from a normal flesh and blood arm. Some could even feel pain. Or so I heard.

I turned to Vik, "Thank you," I told him. There weren't words to describe my gratitude. I stumbled into this place half-dead and bleeding everywhere. Most places would have just thrown me out.

Vik scratched at his neck. "Eh, don't worry about it. Most people aren't so polite to Misty when they bleed on the carpet. And, before I forget, the name’s Viktor," Viktor deflected while I lowered my prosthetic arm. Grabbing hold of the chair, I pushed myself up into a sitting position. "I also took the liberty of installing a gene camouflager -- with how you were bleeding and what you said before passing out, I figured you could use it."

That was a little alarming, but I couldn't stop myself from feeling gratitude. My DNA shouldn't be in any database, and now that it was, a DNA camouflager would prevent me from being connected to the alley if the NCPD ever picked me up. Most mercs had it, from my understanding.

"I’m V… So… how much is the chrome going to cost me?" I asked, looking down at it to inspect it from a new angle. All the while I braced myself for a number that would make my head spin.

Viktor shrugged, "Call it five thousand and we're good." He said, and every single red flag that I had shot right up and were waving wildly.

"Did you take one of my kidneys while you were in there?" I couldn't stop myself from asking. Chrome was expensive. The most basic of stuff went for a thousand eddies at the absolute least. A half-decent prosthetic and gene camo? I should be in… tens of thousands in the hole. Five thousand was way too low.

"Heh, no I didn't. Still have both your kidneys," Viktor reassured. "The truth? You're in a bad spot. The kind of bad spot that if you don't get out of it soon, then you're another dead body on the streets. So, call the generosity pragmatism if it makes it easier to swallow -- you look broke, and five thousand is probably the most I could ever expect to see from you." Viktor explained and when he laid it out like that, I guess he did have a point.

Though his words sent a jolt through me. They were true. I was in a bad spot.

Swallowing thickly, "How long was I out?" I asked, making Viktor check the time.

"Not that long. Maybe thirty minutes or so," He answered, and I turned to slide off the chair. I went light headed almost as soon as my feet touched the ground. Swaying dangerously, Viktor held his hands out in case I fell. “Careful there kid. I replaced the arm, but you lost a lot of blood on the way here. I topped you back up, but you aren’t all there yet.”

I shook my head, “I need to get back to my apartment. I-I have the money there. I can pay you back once I get it,” I told him, making one of Viktor’s eyebrows cock at the news.

“That so? In that case I should have given you a higher price,” he remarked, not sounding like he believed me. I guess I couldn’t blame him for that. Regardless, I needed to get back to my apartment. Lock didn’t know where I lived and he didn’t know my last name. The ABB could find out, especially considering that Bakuda had called me. I could only hope that they hadn’t figured it out in the thirty minutes that I’d been out.

I needed to get those OS-... those bombs. They were still my bargaining chip. With them, I could prove that the ABB had a tinker. Not to mention that I had my money there along with my other gun. The bombs… they needed to be in a person. I was almost certain about it. Otherwise, Bakuda would have just detonated them when she realized they were stolen. It made sense -- slotting in the bomb would give her a connection to her victim, letting her see through their implants.

Without that connection, the bombs were likely inert. Probably.

More than anything else, though, I wanted those bombs in my pocket. That way, whenever I found that bitch, I could put them in her head and reduce her to ash.

“I know I’m asking for a lot of trust with a chip and dash like this,” I said, gesturing to my arm. “If you want, you can send someone with me. The big Latino guy?” I tried, and it seemed my willingness to compromise helped my case, because some of the suspicion eased out of him. “I’ll grab your money and pay you back. I swear. I don’t have much, but I’ve got my word.”

Viktor stared at me for a moment before he shrugged, “Fine. Good enough for me. Talk to Jackie on your way out,” he said, and I just about sagged with relief.

“Thanks. I mean it,” I told Viktor before I forced myself to stand. My head still felt light, and my stomach felt empty, but I could walk and that’s all that mattered. Offering a wave with my new prosthetic, I walked up the steps that took me to the back alley. A few people milled around, sitting on steps leading to the shop. A cat walked by me -- thin fur, small so it might be a kitter. It came to a stop, looking up at me with dark yellow eyes as its thin tail coiled around its feet.

Out of habit, I reached out with my left hand. It paused midway to pet the cat, it… really started to hit me that I lost my left arm. And as if to rub salt into the wound, the cat jumped up ever so slightly, rubbing its head against the bottom of my palm. The cat looked soft. I couldn’t feel a thing. I couldn’t feel anything below my bicep. I was almost scared to pet it.

It seemed to sense that and lost interest in me a second later. The cat meowed once before it scampered off. I watched it go before my attention drifted down to my steel hand. It clenched and unclenched, almost as if nothing was wrong, but…

I sighed, shaking my head. I had more pressing concerns than lamenting the loss of my arm. For example, how I got here in the first place.

There were no bugs arranged in arrows. Without me actually dying, I took a moment to consider what had led me here. There was no doubt about it -- it was a cape. One that could control bugs or something. They led me to a ripperdoc… meaning that they knew what had happened in that alley. Had they been watching me and Lock? Why? Did they have a bone to pick with the ABB and knew we stole the bombs? They had helped me, so it didn’t make sense if they were on the ABB’s side.

I walked forward, heading to the building that I had been dragged through while I pondered the issue. My knee-jerk reaction was to try to find them, but there was a key issue that killed the idea before it could form -- chasing down capes was a bad idea. Period. Because of their powers, if they wanted to avoid getting picked up by a gang or Corp, they had to keep their head down. And if that failed, they had to use force.

If the cape wanted me to find them, then they would have led me to them. Searching might make an enemy of what could be a powerful friend.

In the end, there was nothing I could do. Besides following a blood trail left by myself through a small area that existed between the building to a backdoor.

Inside of the building, I saw that I hadn't been imagining things when I stumbled inside. There was a large multi-armed statue on one wall surrounded by candles and other odds and ends scattered about. The woman -- Misty -- saw me first as she watched Jackie clean up what looked like my blood. I half expected her to chew me out, but she offered a warm smile. "Back on your feet already?" She asked, her painted black lips pulling back to reveal a hint of white teeth.

I froze, my eyes darting down to Jackie, who gave me a far less warm look. "Yeah… sorry about the carpet again -- I didn't know there were gates, and…" I trailed off when Misty shook her head.

"It's no trouble at all. My Jackie here has bled gallons on the carpet before," Misty dismissed the issue while Jackie chuckled as he stood. His dark eyes roamed over me, lingering on my chrome, before he offered a smirk. I couldn't tell if it was a friendly one or not -- the guy was big, and that smirk could mean that we were cool, or that he was going to enjoy stomping me.

"Right. Well, Viktor gave me the price tag and I'm heading out to collect the money. I didn't want to chip and dash, so he told me to talk to you about making sure I didn't?" I told him and earned a nod from Jackie. The normal situation was that you paid upfront. And you brought a friend to make sure your organs and mods didn't get harvested if it was a new ripper.

Jackie cast a glance at Misty, who nodded, prompting him to look back at me, and offer a nod. "Sounds good. Where do you live?" He asked, brushing his hands off on his pants. The action revealed a gun holstered at his waist.

"Megabuilding," I answered. I didn't offer more. Wasn't willing to. The plan was to make sure that Jackie stood outside of my apartment while I collected everything. After that, I would find a cheap motel to stay at for a spell.

"Wait," Misty spoke up as we both made to leave. She focused on me, "If you have the time, I'd like to read your tarot. It could help you," she offered. I thought about it for a second -- it didn't really mean anything to me. Spiritualism and the like. So, it was likely a waste of time.

But brushing her off didn't seem wise when I was standing next to either a friend of hers, or her input. "Alright… hit me," I said, walking to the other side of the counter while Misty grabbed a deck of cards. She grabbed the top one before setting it on the counter, revealing a picture.

"The tower upright. It symbolizes… change. A sudden upheaval in your world view -- a disaster, or a welcomed change in your life," Misty started, her gaze drifting to my arm. That… hit a little close to home, but I said nothing. She grabbed another card and set it on the table. A skeleton on a white horse.

"That's not good," I remarked idly, looking at the card that symbolized death.

"Not necessarily," Misty corrected. "Death represents an end. A closing of a chapter of your life and the beginning of a new one. It is a powerful card, that's true, but ends and change aren't necessarily bad things… it all matters what you make of that change." She offered a smile, giving me the impression that she meant the words. Then she pulled another card.

Her smile grew when she laid the card down. "Strength upright. A card representing courage, compassion, and self-confidence. You are in a difficult time in your life, but you have the strength to see it through." That… was a little reassuring. Admittedly, how this was going made me think that she had stacked the deck. Then she set down the final card and for the first time, her smile dipped.

"The moon upright," Misty remarked. "A card of mystery. You walk a path with its destination unknown, shrouded in darkness… but the moon offers light. Find the light and follow it," Misty concluded, picking up the tarot cards.

That was… a waste of time. The cards were just telling me things I already knew. Upheaval in my life? Of course there was. An end of a chapter? Duh. Strength? I had fucking better have the strength to see it through or I was dead. The moon? I…

"Appreciate it," I told her, unsure if I was lying or not.

"The obvious conclusion isn't always the correct one. You don't need faith. Just do what you believe you should do, and find the light to illuminate your path," Misty advised while I stepped back. I'm guessing that was her way to tell me she believed in me. That was more reassuring than the cards. I didn't respond in favor of heading out with Jackie.

I waited until we were seated on the metro. "Did she stack the deck?" I asked him, shifting so my gun was in a more comfortable position.

Jackie chuckled next to me, barely fitting in the train seat. "Trade secrets," he refused to answer.

So, yeah, she stacked the deck.

…

"You look a bit nervous for heading to your own apartment," Jackie remarked as we arrived on my floor. It had been a bad day -- took us nearly thirty minutes to arrive on my floor. There was no one standing on the outside of my apartment, and there was no evidence that they had forced their way in. However, I knew how bad the security was in the building. A netrunner with half a brain, and a half functioning one at that, could hack the door open. If the cards had a tacking function… then they should be here.

I glanced at Jackie as I stepped off the lift. My lips thinned as I reached behind my back to take out my gun. The action made him narrow his eyes into a glare, but they softened when I clearly wasn't going to take a shot. "Ah, I see how it is," Jackie said as he took out his own gun.

Swallowing thickly, I approached my door, gripping my pistol with my prosthetic. Of all the limbs I could have lost, it had to be my dominant hand. It felt odd, like I wasn't really holding the pistol at all. It was taking my brain some time to realize that the prosthetic was actually there, and because of that, it made it difficult to tell if I was holding my gun too tightly or loosely. With it leveled, the door opened when it sensed my Cyberkey. Sliding open, I saw the inside of my apartment.

It was the same as it had been when I left it. Had they not been here yet? I couldn't drop my guard, so I moved cautiously, leaving Jackie at my back. I just had to cross my fingers and hope that he wouldn't get any ideas. Glancing back at him, half to gesture for him to head into my bathroom, and half to make sure he didn't have the gun pointed at the back of my head, I saw that he didn't. Jackie nodded seriously and stepped into my bathroom.

I cleared my living area, and my eyes zeroed in on the money. A hand darted out, stuffing it into my boot while I left some behind. A safety precaution. By that time Jackie had stepped out of the bathroom and said that it was clear. "Expecting the ABB to be here?" He questioned while I zeroed in on the two bombs.

"Yeah," I admitted, picking them up. "But they aren't here. They've had an hour at least," I muttered to myself. "I don't think the cards themselves have any tracking tech on them. They need to sync up with something to give their position away." I had suspected as much -- otherwise, why bother with Lock meeting me? It would have been simpler to just send some ABB to my door and take care of things there.

One of those cards had killed Lock. Turned him to ash and dust before my very eyes.

But there was another pressing matter, "Here," I said, scrounging up the cash that I had left behind. Counting it out, I had just over five thousand, so after peeling off a few more bills, I passed them over to Jackie. "It's all there," I told him, and he accepted the wad of cash. He looked down at it, then at me. A long second passed by, and every muscle in my body went taut. He was about to-

"Now that you aren't dying and bleedin' everywhere,'' Jackie started, before he stepped back and took a seat on the top of my half circle couch. "What's going on here? Before you passed out, you mentioned that the ABB had a tinker?"

He was looking for a job. Or, rather, he smelled an opportunity for profit.

"Are you a merc?" I asked, answering his question with a question.

To that, Jackie smirked. "The best one in all of Night City. Not that it knows that yet. But it will," Jackie said. The words sounded like a promise and a declaration. That was… actually reassuring in a way. So far, Jackie hadn't betrayed me. I trusted him less than the distance I could throw him, and I doubted that I could throw him an inch. But Jackie could also be the help that I needed.

I mulled it over for a telling moment, "Eddies?" I asked, not wanting to make an offer.

"I need to hear the deets of the job first," Jackie deflected, preventing me from low balling him. Annoying, but fair enough.

"There was a job to hit a deal between the ABB and Maelstrom. I don't know the details -- I was just brought in last minute. There were five of us at the start -- me, Jonah, Lock, Casper, and Cosmo. The last two were twins… Jonah was the one that took the job and brought the rest of us in. He said it was from Wakano," I offered, earning a frown from Jackie.

"You sound like you have doubts," he pointed out.

I nodded, "Yeah, I do. Jonah was lying about something, but I have no idea what. It just didn't add up -- hitting a deal between two big guys like the ABB and Maelstrom shouldn't have ever been given to guys like us. It was my first job. And the details were off -- he said that the loot was ours to do what we wanted with. Just that it couldn't go to the Maelstrom." It all just seemed so off. Especially considering that he brought outside help.

Jackie scratched at his cheek, but he didn't offer an explanation.

I took a seat on my bed and thought the situation through. I was trying to put together a puzzle when I had half of the pieces. Without so much as a picture to go by. "Either Jonah was lying about the job, or the client knew what the cargo was. Nothing else makes sense… and if the client had shilled out money, then would they really be satisfied with making sure the bombs just weren't in Maelstrom’s hands?" That didn't make sense. Unless…

"The cargo was OS plug cards, but they were really bombs," I muttered, making Jackie's lips thin. "They… with Lock, they turned him to ash. Anything that was biological was ash, but his implants were untouched. Bakuda, she wanted to send the bombs to the Maelstrom, spread the ash, and then she would have strolled in and scooped up all the tech that was left behind," I voiced, making Jackie take in a sharp breath.

He muttered a curse in Spanish that my translator didn't pick up, but I continued. "At least, that’s what I’m assuming the plan was. If I assume that the client knew, then that means there's someone out there that knows the ABB has a tinker when no one else does. Knew her specialty, which is bombs, and knew her plan, but decided to interrupt it." Possibly. Or it could just be a coincidence -- someone didn't want the Maelstrom to get their hands on tech. It was possible.

But that still left a glaring issue. If they knew all of that, then why let the bombs go free? Why not have the job specify that the bombs had to be delivered to a drop point? Or destroyed on-site? Was keeping it out of the Maelstrom hands the only thing that mattered? Were they unconcerned about the bombs themselves? Did they not care if we sold the bombs to some random Joe and they would end up with a bomb in their head?

It didn't make sense.

"Eh, I'll be honest, most of what you're saying makes no sense without context, but it doesn't have to be either-or," Jackie pointed out, earning a blink from me. And with a single sentence from him, the picture was complete.

The client knew about the bombs, contacted Wakano to interrupt the deal. From there, either Jonah had been contacted about the job, or he learned about it through other means. Given the circumstances, the latter seemed most likely. So, he then proceeded to act on the information, steal the cargo and cash.

Which brought us to now.

"Fuck," I cursed. I looked at Jackie to find him slightly amused. "What's your estimate?"

He let out a huff, "Sounds like a real mess. A real mess complete with subterfuge, major gangs, capes, and betrayal. It's going to cost you a pretty eddie," he warned.

At the moment, I had cash to spare. "Fine," I agreed, neither of us agreeing to a price. He was right. This was such a mess that any rate that he gave would probably not be half of what he deserved. "Get me through this, and I'll get you your eddies. Down to the last one," I promised.

"Then what's the move?" Jackie asked, standing up. That was a very good question.

I needed information. The ABB was a big gang and taking them on outright was out of the question. "I need to get in touch with the client," I decided. I needed to know how much they knew. If our enemies lined up, then I could get access to whatever resources they had. Given how much info they seemed to have, that could be my golden ticket. That was plan A. Plan B… was a work in progress.

"So, we hitting up your chooms that were on the job?" Jackie questioned, earning a deep frown from me.

"Me and Jonah are the last two alive. Casper and Cosmo… Jonah killed them when they pulled a gun on him during the payout. Lock… Lock was killed by Bakuda… and Jonah blocked me," I muttered, tucking my gun away before grabbing a jacket. In place of my shotgun, I holstered up my assault rifle. That was an issue, but Jonah had said something. "But Jonah said that he and Lock were cousins. If we go to his house, then we can find a way to find Jonah. From there, I'll learn what he knows."

"Why not skip the middle step and just go straight for Wakano?" Jackie questioned. I shook my head, rolling up my sleeve so that my chrome was visible. It was less of a fashion choice and more to avoid catching it on the blocky design of the arm.

Because I could grab Lock's share of the money. So I could warn his family that they could be in danger. To tell them… that their son was dead.

"Because I don’t know if Wakano actually knows anything and she’s a Tyger Claw fixer. If she doesn’t know anything, and we just deliver that information to her… do you really think she won’t do anything with it?” I questioned, earning a conceding nod from Jackie. The Tyger Claws had a few capes of their own, but as far as I was aware, they didn’t have a tinker. If they learned that the ABB had one? That could start a gang war.

Or worse. The Tyger Claws could get to Bakuda before I did.

“Let’s go. I want to find Jonah before he leaves the city,” I said, heading to the door. Jackie lingered behind me before speaking up.

“One last question. The Tinker? Bakuda? What’s your aim here? You kill her, then all that’s going to do is put you in the sights of the ABB,” he pointed out. He was right.

“Lock was my friend,” I told Jackie. “And she killed him. Your job is to help me get to Bakuda. What happens next isn't on you,” I told him. I craved becoming a legend in this city, but now I craved something more. Something fierce, suicidal, and something that couldn’t be reasoned with.

I wanted revenge. I wanted it so badly I could practically taste it. I wanted to look that bitch in the eyes when I killed her with her own bombs. I wouldn’t settle for anything less.

“If you say so,” Jackie replied, and I could practically hear the shrug in his tone. All the same, he followed me.

…

Lock lived in Heywood -- the Glen, specifically -- towards the southern part of the city. South of the city plaza and downtown, which was south of Little China and Kabuki. It was a rough neighborhood. A real rough one. It was the home turf of the Valentinos for the most part. There were other gangs that loitered about, and there were Scavs to consider,

The roads were cracked, busted, and half covered in skid marks from street races. The other half was covered by garbage. The houses that flanked the street were all one story and looked like they had been built in the year 2000, so three-quarters of a century ago. It might have been worse if it wasn't for the Valentinos taking charge of the place -- they were a gang, but one with values. Without them, the place could have ended up becoming a combat zone.

"Ah, me and Lock were practically neighbors," Jackie remarked when we arrived in front of a building. Calling it nice would be a stretch -- the paint was faded from decades of abuse from the weather, weeds sprung up in the driveway that lacked a car. The solar panels on the roof were either cracked or missing entirely. "He wasn't in a gang?"

I shook my head, "No. He wanted to sign up with the Valentinos, but he punked out during the hazing to sign up." Or, so I thought. He had talked mad trash that he was joining up with the mostly Hispanic gang, only to never say a word about them after showing up to school with two black eyes, a busted nose, a split lip, and more bruises than skin. "I never got the whole story, though."

"Hmm," Jackie remarked as we walked up to the building. There was no sign of the ABB either, but to be cautious, we went around the back. "I remember when I signed up -- made me do the craziest shit," he recalled with a fond smile tugging at his lips. "But riding with the Valentinos is a one time gig. If you fail to get in or you leave, you can't ever join again."

I glanced at him as we reached the backdoor. "Speaking from experience?" I asked, earning a careless shrug as a response. That was a little reassuring, in a way. The Valentinos might be a gang that revolved around getting laid, but you couldn't join if you were soft. Meaning that Jackie had actual experience and wasn't just a huge guy.

The conversation fell short when we reached the backdoor -- a simple sliding metal door with a keypad next to it. There was no evidence of a forced entry either. And… that didn't make sense. Unless Lock had let them in before heading to school or something? In the end, there was only one way to find out.

"Give me a second," I told Jackie, turning my attention to the keypad. A number lock or a Cyberkey, not dissimilar to the lock at my apartment. Because of that, I knew it wouldn't be a simple task of just hacking it open. Faking a Cyberkey was a difficult task to start with, but…

I frowned to myself as my fingers traced the edges of the number lock, not finding a jack port. Right. I needed to find some kind of signal to latch onto. I… I… had…

Something was wrong -- I wasn't a gifted netrunner. I knew as much as I did because learning to code was just something that was always useful. In today's world, it was a skill you were just better off having. I just didn't have any talent for it. It didn't come naturally to me.

Yet, when I pulled up my cyberdeck and inspected the spells that I had available, I knew exactly what I had to do. I inspected the base code of Ping -- little more than a handshake towards other systems, giving me some information like their location. As far as spells go, it was about as bog standard as they came. You could download them from any website, provided that it wasn't actually malware. It was most commonly used to ping certain items or networks…

The base code was trash. Good enough to function, but not much else. The code was disgusting on a fundamental level in ways that I had never noticed before -- there was no creativity, no imagination, and no talent in its craft. It just worked. A tool with a singular purpose for a singular job -- pinging a system for feedback.

"V?" Jackie spoke up when I pulled out my phone and jacked into it. I needed a keyboard. My mechanical thumb was practically useless, but I still started typing out code. The base code was scrapped, unfit to even serve as a foundation. Coding was a language into itself in its own way. Only instead of words, vowels, and so on, you had commands and specifications.

And, to my dawning horror, I was stuck using a dumb downed language. Do this. Do that. Do this when this happens. Do this when this doesn't happen. Execute XYZ when ABC happens. I might as well be writing in the language of cavemen. I… needed to make a better language. Far more advanced and elegant… but I would also need the ability to interact with stupid systems like the lock before me.

Ping was recreated, better than ever. The range of it was increased -- going from only being able to pick up on a simple signal that went between a warehouse and a phone, to being able to pick up damn near any kind of cyber connection. Like the connection between the door, the lock, and the security system involved. And once I could touch the system, I could learn all that I needed to know.

It was simple to find an unsecured signal with my more advanced Ping. From there, it was child's play hopping from one signal to the next until I was in direct contact with the security systems. The security system was more advanced, far more secure. Harder to subvert. Before that fact would have driven me up the wall, but instead my lips curled up into a smile at the paltry challenge.

Hacking was, to put it simply, convincing a system that you had the right to access it. The easiest way to do that? Have a key that it recognizes. It sounded simple, but it was anything but. However, I was already on the inside of the house because of an open port. I needed a key to get inside of the building, but convincing the system that someone was leaving? Simple.

The door slid open, revealing the interior of the house as I was given control of the security systems. I blinked a few times as I jacked out of my phone.

"You didn't mention you were a netrunner," Jackie said, sounding impressed as he peeked inside. I looked up at him, my mouth opening, but I failed to answer as he walked into the building.

What in the hell was that? I looked down at the code that I had typed out and I knew it shouldn't make an ounce of sense to me. But it did. Almost as if something was filling in the blanks for me. My mouth went dry, before I put the phone in my pocket. That was… that didn't make any sense. Unless Viktor installed a hell of a skill shard, I shouldn't be able to code like that. And there was no way in hell that Viktor would get his hands on a skill shard like that, much less waste it on a kid like me.

I took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Now was not the time. I needed to focus on the task at hand -- finding Jonah. With that thought in mind, I shoved my questions aside and stepped into the building.

The interior was run down, but from general wear and tear. Piles of take-out food were stacked up, a few trash bags tucked in the corner. The couch cushions were stained with permanent butt indentations, but the TV looked nice. I had only been here once before, but it looked mostly the same. If the ABB had been here, then they didn't tear the place up.

"This doesn't make sense," I muttered to myself as I headed to Lock's bedroom. Jackie nodded as he checked what should be Lock's mom's bedroom. It was rarely used. She was a single parent with a mortgage to pay off -- she worked an average of a hundred something hours a week. More often than not, she just slept at work.

"The ABB haven't been here," Jackie agreed as I stepped into Lock's bedroom. It felt like I had just been punched in the gut, but I ignored it. His bed wasn't made, there were food boxes everywhere, and a few posters of various girls. All of them in various stages of undress. "They should have been here by now."

They should have, I thought as I flipped up the bed to reveal Lock's stash. There was his share of the money. Sixteen thousand eddies. In the most obvious hiding spot there ever was. As far as I was concerned, that was undeniable evidence that the ABB hadn't been here. No way they would have left that kind of scratch.

"So why aren't they?" I asked myself in a low whisper as I tucked the money away. I was officially rich compared to my previous seventeen years of poverty, but I couldn’t bring myself to feel happy about it. I lowered the bed and started checking out the rest of the room, looking for a way to contact Jonah.

It didn’t make any sense at all. Bakuda knew where Lock lived the longest. There was no reason why she wouldn’t hit the place to get her money. The fact that Lock didn’t have it on him at the time tells me that she always planned on killing him and collecting it later, so…

There was no way that she wouldn’t send ABB thugs here. So, if it wasn't that she wouldn’t, then did that mean that she couldn’t?

Before I could think too deeply into the thought, my gaze landed on a laptop. Grabbing it and cracking it open, I took a seat at Lock’s desk while Jackie stepped into the room. “Found some guns in the living room,” he informed me as I booted up the laptop. It was junk hardware that saw its best days long before it reached Lock. And I’m betting that it would be just as poorly optimized.

Lock didn’t even bother with a password, I realized when I found myself looking at Lock’s home screen of a not family-friendly picture of Brandish. I found myself disappointed. Not just in his taste in women and lack of security, but because I couldn’t try hacking into the computer.

Something had changed with me. I hadn’t realized it until just now, but Misty was right. Something had definitely changed with me.

“So, how are we finding this Jonah guy, Netrunner?” Jackie asked, leaning against a wall with his arms crossed. I smirked at the nickname, wondering what he would say if he knew the truth. That I had no clue was going on with me. Yet, I also knew how to answer that question.

“Jonah blocked me after I told him that Lock had been made. So, I’m guessing he won’t respond to any message from Lock or his family,” I said, seeing Jackie cock an eyebrow at that.

He tsked, the information clearly souring his impression of Jonah. “Then why did we bother coming here?” He questioned, scratching at his cheek.

“Because, now I have his email address,” I answered. I couldn’t hack into the company itself to retrieve his personal data. Well, maybe I could, but I wouldn’t. Not when there was a much simpler way. With that thought in mind, I set up a bot, connected it to Jonah's email address, then connected them both with my code for Ping. From there, I composed an email that was just a face for malware. The entire process took less than ten minutes and when it was done, I pressed send.

Jonah's phone was bombarded with spam mail, the bot flooding his inbox. Each one was a landmine and all he had to do…

I saw the exact moment that Jonah clicked on an email, likely trying to block the email address. He paid for it with a piece of malware installing itself onto his phone and he failed to cancel the download in time since it was just a few bytes, and just like that, I had a backdoor.

"Found him," I said, satisfied with my work. I could see everything, and even as I learned his address, I downloaded everything that he had on his phone. Numbers, call transcripts, texts, internet history. Everything. I gave it a precursory look, going through his most recent calls and texts. I saw mine, causing a flash of annoyance, but not nearly as much as what else I found.

A handful of texts with an unknown number. First a confirmation from Jonah to the unknown number. There wasn’t a reply from that number, but he was dinged with a text from another unknown number. A location and a time. Jonah texted back, confirming a price of twenty-five thousand eddies. A third time, whoever was on the other answered with a different number, confirming that he would be paid in full.

He was meeting with a client. Possibly the client. Were they cutting out a fixer? Or had I been right in assuming that this wasn’t an arranged job?

One way to find out.

Closing the laptop, I picked it up since it was now too valuable to leave behind. When I stood, I saw that Jackie was giving me an odd look.

He shook his head, "That was a little scary." He informed me, sounding more impressed than scared. "You found him? Just like that?"

"It's simpler than it sounds," I dismissed, going to Lock's closet and grabbing a hard plastic satchel laptop case that was made for easy transport. A hand hesitated to empty it out when I saw the packs of cigarettes inside. Practicality won out over sentimentality. "Everything connected to the web can be tracked. I found him in Kabuki. Somewhere called the No-Tell Motel? He’s meeting someone there. We should get to him before he gets paid and flees the city.”

Jackie nodded, "Sounds good to me. From the sound of it, I'm guessing you think this might become a fight?"

I looked down at my prosthetic, wondering if he had been there… I might have not had to shoot off my arm. Lock could be alive. Or… just as likely, Bakuda would have killed the lot of us when we were in one place.

"Probably," I admitted as I started to leave the house. Lock's mom… she wasn't here. I… I would break the news to her later. After I dealt with his killers. "Just don't kill him. We could need him." Because… a Plan B was starting to form in the back of my mind.

Jonah left us to die and save his own skin. That was the smart thing to do, but it had been a mistake, because I was alive. And I was pissed.

And, with knowledge that didn't belong to me, I was starting to get ideas.