Lyudka cursed herself as she watched Deti cough up the soup. The watery substance dripped down her pale chin, soaking the dusty cusackskin that covered the small girl’s body. A series of unnaturally rough coughs preceded the blood that then appeared in the corners of her mouth.

"My chest hurts." Deti cried weakly, blinking away the tears.

"It’s okay," Lyudka said warmly, wiping out the girl’s face with a rag. "Everything will be okay."

She lied, of course. Nothing was ever okay this year. The weather was colder than usual, even here in this abandoned factory where they had to keep flames in rusted barrels, coughing occasionally from all the smoke, and turn the cracked walls dark. But the alternative was far worse. Deti spent a few days begging for pearls on the street and caught something because of this fucking cold.

Lyudka sat with Deti, waiting until her cough was over, and fed her the rest of the soup. It was mostly hot water, with a few pieces of bread, half-rotten vegetables, and expired meat that she and the others had found behind a store. Better than nothing. They needed strength.

She stood up, scratching her protruding ribs, and wrapped the remains of three jackets tighter around herself. She gave an encouraging pat to the sick girl and walked out. The rest of the group had already gathered—a sickly and dirty-looking group of teens and kids, all eight of them.

"How is she?" Borka, a thirteen-year-old boy, asked. He was wrapped in several layers of dirty cloth, giving the kid a somewhat funny resemblance to a ball.

"Recovering." Lyudka noticed two roasted rat legs in Borka's hand and smiled sadly. "She can't eat this right now. Eat them yourself, Bor."

"Sorry, Liddi!" Before Borka could respond, two eight-year-old girls jumped to them. They looked almost indistinguishable from each other, with the same unhealthy pale skin, the same short brown hair showing from underneath dirty caps. Only the left girl missed one of her eyes, a ‘reward’ given to her by some druggie, "We begged all day, but…"

They showed the pittance that they had collected, and Lyudka’s heart sank. Sixteen pearls, a round bronze currency of the Pearl City. There was nowhere near enough to buy the antibiotics they required.

"No worries." Lyudka hugged them. She too had worked today, mostly stealing from the people at a bus stop. When you hit sixteen, people were no longer willing to shed some pearls in a gesture of pity. They looked at Yuka as if she were a trash can on the road. "Borka has a prize for you. Eat and sleep."

I am going to do it. She looked at the other kids, grasping her own shoulders in revulsion. The mere thought of going to him to let others have their way with her shook her to her core. She wasn’t brave or smart; she was just a scared cat like thousands of others who came to Pearl in hope of safety. But what choice do they have? They needed pearls, or Deti would die. And who knows who will be next?

A sound of moving steel dragged her from her fears. Two kids, armed with pipes, had dragged a steel slab from the entrance, allowing Yosha to step in. The oldest of their group smiled wearily and pressed two fingers to his black forehead. He quickly chatted with the girls, gave Borka a fist bump, then waltzed over to Lyudka and hugged her.

"Stop it; you are like an ice pillar," Lyudka laughed, hugging him back.

"Harsh, but true." The teen pulled a syringe out of his pocket. "I've got something that will help Deti pull this through; can you help me with instructions?"

"Where did you get it?" Lyudka snatched the thing out of his hand, reading the inscription on it.

He's got something good! A "C-class" recovery shot, which contained a mix of antibiotics and recovery solution, was meant to prevent dehydration and aid in the restoration of damaged lungs. But these things were only available with a prescription and only to those who could afford insurance. Someone like them could not even hope to…

She shook her head, running back to Deti, with Yosha following after her. Who cares where he got it? She remembered times from her work at the apothecary, back when mom and dad were still alive. Carefully, she injected the girl with the syringe, making sure not to push in any air. She had no idea if the needle was clean or not, but they were at their wits' ends. They needed to take a risk.

Deti shook weakly in her sleep but otherwise showed no sign of pain. Lyudka quickly gave her a kiss on the cheek and tucked her into the warm cusackskin, saying a quick prayer to the Planet.

"I am going to Yabor tomorrow," Lyudka said to Yosha when the two had finally left for what passed for their room.

The youth coughed, sitting before a barrel and keeping his nine fingers over the flame that illuminated the scars on his wrists. He sat silently for a good five minutes, looking more like a doll than a human, observing the dancing flame before him.

Lyudka did not hurry him. Out of them all, Yosha was the only one who had managed to get a proper job. The Planet only knows how tired he must have been right now.

"No, you are not." He coughed again, closing his eyes against the flame. "I promised Ma and Pa that I would look after you all."

"Yosha, we need pearls." Lyudka felt tired from having the same conversation over and over. "I’ve talked with girls who had worked for him before. All of them told me that he is a nice guy who looks after his own…"

"Yabor works for the Cartel." Yosha spat into the flame. "You know that one of his girls got into a hospital with syphilis?"

"Yes. And he had paid for her treatment and more."

"Oh, sure, and Galfo quartered the psycho who slept with her. The poor girl has to live her entire life on medications and with a machine instead of a nose. Is this a life you want for yourself?"

"Perhaps." She lifted her chin defiantly. "If this means that you and the rest of the kids will be safe."

"A man from the Cartel approached me yesterday." Yosha looked at her. "They offered us to sell drugs around here. I refused."

"Are you mad!?" She stomped on the ground, dropping her voice to a hush in order not to scare the others. She felt her veins about to pop up in her temples. "This was our chance! You had no right to refuse without letting us…"

"No, I had all the right!" He grabbed her by the shoulders. "I… They wanted us to take a whiff of this stuff to know what we would be selling. Ha, as if I couldn’t see what they were planning! Lud, this shit kills people. You’ve seen what it did to Pa…" He trailed off, coughing once more. "We have three days to leave this place, or they will set Mateo on us."

"What are we going to do? Deti can’t leave and…" Lyudka weakly looked around.

Yes, the place was trash, that with scattered books all around, with dirty clothes, and with rotten food everywhere. But this was their trash! She helped kids learn how to read; she read to them before bed, weathering any illness by their side. Lyudka was angry; she was bitter here, true. She was seething with pure rage, seeing how her hard work cleaning the place was going to waste. But she was also happy here, surrounded by her new and unlikely family. This was their home. Somewhere they felt safe, where they could laugh and cry together.

"I met with Sellout. He and his groups are the ones who gave me the medicine. They are willing to help us get to a farm outside of the city. You know, one of those that are run by the reclaimers. Lud, we can do it. We will be…"

They jumped in place, feeling tremors that ran through the basement. Pieces of rubble fell from the ceiling into the rusted barrel, causing a hiss of flames. Lyudka and Yosha looked at each other. The place was hardly safe. From time to time, some druggies or cultists would try to claim the ruins for themselves. Usually, all of them would leave before reaching the basement. A few that actually pushed all the way into the basement were met with pipes and a few iron doors that barred their entrance. No one really needed this place that much, all the wires were pulled from the walls and sold for cheap pearls. All working machine tools and valuable gear were looted as well; there was simply nothing left to steal in here, safe for the stone and icy walls.

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The kids prepared a makeshift alarm system meant to warn them when someone tried to enter their home. This time, however, Lyudka felt ice cold tearing at her very soul and body.

Something was wrong. Very wrong.

"Grab everyone and lead them into the ventilation shafts!"

"But what about you?"

"I will be right behind you." Yosha licked his lips nervously. His hand slipped beneath the clothes, taking out a rusted-looking crossbow. "We ain’t leaving anyone behind."

Lyudka rushed out of the room, grabbing the kids by the hand and leading them toward the ventilation tunnels. These were no longer working; they even barred some of them to prevent the cold from coming in. At the same time, the group had left all these barricades easily removable, just in case there was a sudden need to run. With all the killings in Pearl City, no one could be too careful.

She pushed the little ones first, not bothering to tell them what to do. They weren't crying because life had beaten the mercy out of them. After them came the teens, then Borka, who was carrying a half-conscious Deti, and Lyudka, who was watching to make sure no one got stuck and helped Borka move forward.

Out of some impulse, she looked out into the crack in the ventilation shaft, seeing how Yosha and two other boys were grabbing the last valuables in the room. They rushed to the shaft, and in that moment everything went wrong.

Two crimson dots appeared in the metal slab that served as a door. They lingered just for a moment before the door twisted and exploded, sending overheated shards of steel all around the room. One of the boys screamed, falling down with his left arm almost sliced off by the flying metal. The other boys fell to the ground, shielding their heads. When one of them tried to stand up, he felt a boot on his head.

"Hello there, Yosha." Said a tall, dark-skinned man wearing a long trench coat over his shoulders, revealing his bare-chested torso. With almost fluid motion, the man holstered twin black pistols with a long crimson strap that circled along their long barrels.

Yosha stood up, looking around in panic. The man smiled friendly and pressed his leg harder, causing the boy beneath his foot to scream in pain. Yosha’s eyes narrowed, and he fired an arrow into the man’s face.

It stopped an inch from his nose, caught by two fingers. The man turned the rusted arrow to the side, examining it with some curiosity, and Lyuda pressed her palms to her mouth, feeling her heart beating madly in her chest. This man wasn’t normal. He stood, unbothered by the cold and smoke inside the room. And he moved way too fast.

She heard about such people. 'Abnormals', the people had called them.

"Why are you here, Mateo?" The man whispered.

"Why are you here, Mateo!?" Yosha roared, stopping in confusion as the man looked mockingly at him.

"How could I not be?" Mateo asked, throwing the arrow away. His voice never rose above a whisper, barely betraying a hint of emotion. "Out of the goodness of our hearts, the Cartel had allowed your bunch of peons to live on our turf rent-free. We even offered you lot a job, and you spat in our faces instead of thanking us and licking our boots for such a gracious offer. I refused the job."

"I refused the job!" Yosha shouted, picking up a pipe from the ground. He looked at the rolling boy and at the other kid with desperation. "Not the others! The guilt is with…"

"Ah, who cares?" Mateo waved his hand at him. "You had a right to refuse; we care not. What we do care about is that you went to Sellout later, acting behind our backs while living on our turf. This insult will not stand. The senior has said his word. Quartering. Your remains will decorate an alley nearby. Thanks to you, we now know where Sellout is hiding. We have a bigger fish to skin tonight, so call your rabble, and I promise, it won’t be pretty, but it will be quick."

"No."

"The funny way it is." Mateo threw one of his pistols to Yosha. "It’s a plasma pistol. Pick it up." The teen hesitated, and Mateo pressed his foot, causing the boy beneath his foot to shriek in pain.

Lyudka bit her lower lip with all her might, drawing blood. There was nothing she could do. If she comes out or makes a sound, Mateo will follow after the others. No. She must be quiet. And pray. She felt cold again and noticed how the walls of the ventilation shafts had started getting covered with a thick layer of hoarfrost.

"Pick. It. Up," Mateo’s whisper changed; a hint of annoyance slipped into it. With a trembling hand, Yosha has reached out for the weapon. "Yes, put your finger on the trigger. Now put the weapon on your belt… Wait, you don’t even have one. Hah. Put it in your pocket. Yes, like that. Now draw."

Yosha didn’t move, holding the gun in panic. He looked at the injured kid who was crawling back to the airshaft, then at Mateo, and finally at the gun in his hand.

"You are afraid," Mateo whispered. "Why? Is it because of sleep deprivation? Is it because of the cancer?" The boy looked at him, and the man spread his lips in a grin. "Yes, kiddo, you are dying. Ah, one of your ribs is also broken. An intervertebral disc is shifted. No wonder you feel pain all the time. Now is your time to go out with a bang. Don’t you want to get me for what I did to your pappy and mommy?"

"Shut up!" Yosha roared, raising the gun.

Lyudka saw his arm move up, and Mateo simply stood in place, relaxed, with one hand over his own gun. For a moment, she felt a tingle of hope. Plasma! No one can survive a direct hit from this overheated projectile. If Yosha can shoot, then…

His hand fell. The teen and Lyudka both looked at his horribly deformed stump that now existed at the end of his right arm, at the blackened bones that looked as if someone had sliced through them. Yosha’s face betrayed a mix of pain and disbelief, and he fell on his knees, crying in pain.

"And now you have only four fingers! And this is the punishment for failing," Mateo stomped, laughing. Lyudka swallowed in horror, feeling her heart about to stop. The boy beneath Mateo’s leg… He was no more. His head popped like an egg, and the body twitched in the near-death convulsions, jerking like a headless chicken. "See that, rats? Come out, and we will give you a quick death! Hide, and then follow this loser!"

Yosha tried to pick up the gun with his remaining hand. With his trembling fingers, he grasped the weapon, aiming it at Mateo’s back, while the killer was whisper-shouting his threats. Quickly, like lightning, Mateo turned around, shooting off Yosha’s left hand. The monster walked forward toward the boy, looking at him with carefree gray eyes. Grabbing the screaming teen, he dragged him to one of the nearby barrels.

"Ya should be proud; you will go out in the same way your old fuckers went!" Mateo pushed Yosha’s head near the barrel’s edge… And plunged him face-down into the flames.

The injured boy jumped to his feet, brought back to consciousness by the horrifying screams and smell of roasted human meat. He jumped up, trying to climb up into the vent, and Lyudka saw more people entering the room. Without hesitation, she grabbed the boy, pulling him closer to herself and trying to send him ahead of her. No matter what, she refused to lose anyone else. Yosha kept on screaming and thrashing in Mateo’s hold, and Lyudka cried as well, trying to save another member of their group.

The boy gasped, and she saw an… ice hook in his chest, piercing his lung. The boy yapped weakly, grabbing Lyudka. Without thinking, for it was far too scary to stop and think, she reached into her pocket, found a shiv, and tried to pierce the strange ice chain that was coming out of the boy’s back. It was in vain, with a cruel push, someone tore the boy out of the ventilation shaft, leaving just frozen blood behind.

She looked out and saw him. Galfo. The Cartel’s chief cleaner. The man had an impressive build that was barely hidden by his white jacket and black shirt. He held the trashing boy with one hand, looking at the crying victim through his sunglasses. The cleaner looked like an otherworldly creature; his skin was of the palest color and covered by a thin layer of ice in some places.

Galfo has raised his hand, spreading his fingers wide. Blades made out of ice sprung from between his fingers, coming down on the boy’s shoulder, hacking into flesh and sawing it.

"No!" Lyudka shouted and threw her blade at Galfo. The blade hit him in the forehead and froze, sticking to the skin as if glued. In the next moment, the ice fully covered her shiv, breaking it before her very eyes.

She recoiled back in fear and horror at the sight of this butchery, and this had saved her life. Spears of ice destroyed the entrance, leaving just a ruined stone in its place. Galfo threw the boy to one of his goons, and Lyudka heard the sound of brandishing machetes. Screaming in pain and horror, she climbed deeper across the shafts, hating herself for her weakness, hating the Cartel for this cruelty, and hating this entire world for taking away her home and the dearest people from her again and again.

She heard the sound of falling stones. Looking back, she saw Galfo, who was walking after her. Everything before him was turning to ice—both metal and stone. He walked through them like a walking ram, collapsing everything in his path. Lyudka screamed weakly and started running clumsily on all fours, breaking her nails against the metal floor. She begged the Planet for one simple thing. Let everyone else be out already. Let them run and hide already. Please. Just this one thing.

She jumped out of the vent onto the street above, seeing the kids ahead. The alley looked almost pristine on this night; the white snow had covered the dirt and was marked only by the children’s’ steps.

"Run! For the love of all, just run!" Lyudka begged them before leaping toward the lock and almost slipping because of the ice beneath the snow.

This was their last line of defense. A metal chain held several steel girders that kids had dragged from the factory and placed above the exit from the ventilation shaft. They never intended to use this against anyone; killing or injuring others was never in their plans. Fighting with others meant getting hurt, and on the streets, you rarely had a chance to heal.

Lyudka, on the other hand, thanked the Planet for forcing Yosha to go alone with her inane plan to construct this trap. Inputting the code, Lyudka looked with mad eyes at the wall, seeing how ice had covered the stone blocks, noticing the cracks. And when the figure broke free, she unlocked the lock.

"Die, you son of the bitch!" The girl laughed, darting away.

She slipped on ice, falling face down. Rolling on the ground and holding her bleeding nose, Lyudka saw how the steel girders almost touched Galfo. Ice covered them, arresting their fall for the briefest moment before breaking them into countless pieces above Galfo’s head. The man stood there, dispassionately looking at the girl, while ice rain fell all around him. He scrubbed the ice dust from his elegant suit with a disdainful tug.

"N-no. That’s impossible!" Lyudka whimpered, hearing footsteps.

Mateo came out from the breach, and Lyudka wet herself. Without thinking, she stood up and ran, training to gain distance.

"Run! You will only make it more fun for me!" She heard Mateo’s whisper. "I have seen you; there is nowhere you can hide now!"