“All clear.” Rachel says into her shoulder mic. It’s cold enough now to justify wearing her dark purple hoodie under her new jacket, but she forgot to get new shoes. She feels a draft in her toes from a hole in the thinning soles and split seams.

She turns back to Touch. “So, how long have you known that I was Aris’ mother? You sure as shit didn’t seem surprised when I told everyone after Aliston.”

“Since the beginning. Back when we were both with Atla. It was a big deal when you ran, and when you were reported dead.”

“What!” Rachel stops dead. Touch’s eyes widen.

“I take it you didn’t know.”

“Do Aris and Talia think I’ve been dead this entire time?”

“Unclear. They did wipe every trace of you from the corpnets. They also rewrote everything about your family after the coup. People put together bits and pieces here and there on the freenets, but AriCorp went after those too. I did still manage to put together quite the file on all of you, though.”

“So you knew? Even when I walked into Mickey’s?”

“Well, no. I couldn’t find any pictures of you. But after you busted out that sword, it was clear.”

“So, why did you help me? You hate corporations, AriCorp especially.”

“Ever heard of the Xanatos gambit? It’s when you arrange things so, no matter the outcome, you gain something from it. Either you were ousted with the corporations, or you were undercover. Either way, helping you out gave me the valuable intel I was missing.”

“But if I was undercover, I could have ruined everything.”

“I was pretty sure you weren’t. People knew about you, ya know, hiding in the outskirts of town. Ortega knew about you, too. If you were undercover, you sucked at it. Or you were playing one hell of a long game. So we tested you.”

“What test?”

“When you were messaging Tara, we were monitoring you from the back. You wouldn’t have downloaded Ortega’s software if you were undercover. And we had a… minor spyware program on all of your devices.”

“So what then? I was just a research project to you? Were you hoping to turn me against Aris?”

“I don’t have time for manipulation or grooming, wide-eyes. You were clearly a fugitive like the rest of us, so I simply gave you access to all the same things we had. Any intel you gathered wouldn’t have been much use. I mostly wanted to see what kind of person could raise a tyrant.”

“Fuck you!”

“You say that every time I mention your son.” He continues offhandedly. “Traveling with you has left more questions than answers. The way your son is acting really just doesn’t seem to be your fault. It’s surprising.”

“What about Talia? You barely mention her.”

“Not much to tell. She apparently left shortly after the coup. She’s been wiped from the record since.”

Rachel stops as she takes in a sharp breath.

“What does that mean? Did they…”

“Unclear. She could have simply run away, like you.”

Tears well up in Rachel’s eyes and she puts a hand to her mouth as tears well up in her eyes.

“I miss my kids… I want them back…”

Touch slings his rifle, drops his staff, and slips his arms around her. “I know. We’ll figure something out. One problem at a time.”

After a short time, Touch scoops up his staff and the two continue down the road.

“How do you not hate me? You clearly hate my son.”

“Despite your accusations, wide-eyes, I don’t judge people based solely on what side they’re on. It helps inform the bigger picture, but it’s hardly a deciding factor—” There is a snap in the woods off to the right. Both Rachel and Touch see a dark shadow of a man and a rifle shoulder and pointing at them step onto the road.

“Hands! Show me your hands!”

Touch steps in front of Rachel. They hear footsteps come up from behind and Rachel turns to see a man with a gleaming metal pistol pointing right at them.

“Shit.” Rachel mutters over her thundering heart.

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She looks back. Touch slowly unslings his rifle. Rachel’s hands crawl up to the sky.

Fuck. She should have been paying attention.

Touchstone and Rachel throw their packs down by the rifle as a man with a large wood axe tails behind the man with the rifle. As Rachel sets her radio down, she squeezes the shoulder mic twice, the signal for trouble. They step away when Touch finishes throwing his swords into the pile, limping over his staff.

The man puts his pistol away with unsteady hands and dumps the packs. He picks up the Damascus saber while the man with the axe bends down and rummages through the pile, laughing. The man with the assault rifle looks at them, keeping the rifle trained on his prisoners.

“Just the credits, nothing traceable!” He thrusts the rifle at Touch “You can toss that staff too. I know you ain’t crippled.”

“What?” Touch leans closer and acts confused.

The man steps closer and swings the butt of the rifle back, “You little shit! I said drop-” Touch whirls the staff around and strikes up at the arm of the man. He screams, and the rifle clutters to the ground.

As Touch pushes forward, the man grabs the staff and the two go stumbling into the trees on the side of the road.

Rachel looks at the two other thugs, both of them distracted, she eyes fall to the rifle on the ground.

“D-don’t even think about it!” The man whips his pistol out, trained on Rachel again. The pistol shakes and the man’s eyes dart around rapidly. “I got this. Go help him out!” He says to the axeman, who scoops up his weapon and marches to the two wrestling over the staff.

Rachel looks at the frightened man. “We can fix this,” she tries to calm her own shaking voice, “just take what you want and we can all leave.”

The man looks at her like a deer caught in headlights. “Get-, get your guy to stop fighting!” he says, jabbing his pistol at the three struggling by the roadside, before turning it on her again.

She looks over in time to see the axe-man bring his weapon down on Touch, who throws his staff over his head, snapping it in half.

“Oh,” Touch says. “you fucked up.”

Touch throws himself into his two opponents, pulverizing them in a flurry of strikes from his long wooden batons. The axe man screams as his weapon fumbles to the ground in his retreat. Touch can’t chase both of them, so he singles out the first man to continue his onslaught.

“Touch! Stop! Just let them take what they want so we can go!”

Touch doesn’t seem to hear her. She looks back at the man with the pistol. His teeth suddenly clenched together.

“After what you did? You threw my friends in prison. You really think we’re going to let you go!”

The gun flashes, Rachel’s legs give out from under her and she plummets to the ground.

“Rachel!” Touchstone jumps over the man he pummeled to the ground and sprints for the two gunmen.

A quick burst of gunfire erupts from the assault rifle and the white masked man tumbles over himself like a sack of potatoes.

He doesn’t move.

“Shit, man, why didn’t you wait?” The former axe-man says. “We gotta go. They’ll be on our ass soon.”

The two men fumble for as many credits as they can.

They turn back around as a bright pink flare comes to life behind them.

There is a blur, a raw scream, and a trembling cry.

“Holy shit.” The former axe man steps back and stumbles over the pile of gear as his friend turns to him, clenching his bloodied hand tight to his chest.

The axe-man looks down at the pistol sliced in half next to three severed fingers.

The man is knocked to the ground by the Asian chick he shot. As the axe-man levels his rifle at the woman, the gun jerks from his suddenly hurting hand amid a boom from down the road. The axe man sees the silhouette of a man with a rifle down the road, then the woman swings her leg at him and the world goes dark.

“Slip!” Rachel shouts over her shoulder, “We need help! Get a medic!” Rachel sets her sword down and kneels over Touch. Her hands freeze… What was she supposed to do? She sees opalescent skid marks pressed into the stone man’s skin, marred in dust and lead fragments on his hip, stomach, and chest.

His breathing is quick and shallow. One side of his chest expanding more than the other. Collapsed lung. She runs her eyes down and sees excessive swelling at his hip, possibly fractured pelvis. Possible—probable internal bleeding in all three areas.

She rolls her friend over into the recovery position, on the side of the healthy lung, to ease pressure on the collapsed one. His skin stays hard and gritty. It doesn’t soften with her touch, just the opposite; his skin darkens even more.

Every time she moves him, it increases the risk of shifting broken bones around and tearing up his insides.

There’s no way to treat him… No way to cut him open for surgery…

Jane.

***

After getting the news, Coleman breaks out his work phone. "Yeah, the plan worked. But they only managed to take out the big guy, and they all got caught."

"Amateurs. It's not like we were going to use them again. They served their purpose. The stone man's the one who ruined our property, yes? According to the dog's recordings? What's the plan to finish the job?"

"According to my contact, they retreated to Gate City in one of those impromptu ambulances, the ones that have a pass from the mayor. So they got in no problem. I don't know where they could have gone. No one can operate on him according to our intel, so it might just be frantic desperation. Once I arrive, I'll check out the hospitals and morgues, see if I can't catch the girl's scent."

Coleman pats his remaining G-4 Blood Hound. Running his fingers over the plastic brown hairs cold rubber skin. The feel matches its look of some soulless animatronic devil of a dog. Topped with its size, you'd think he wouldn't have to worry about civilians getting too close. But people were growing too use to divs. He had to keep this thing parked outside town because kids would still want to come up and pet the giant hell hound. It drew too much conversation and interest even among adults.

"Then I close in and let this guy finish the job. I'll be close enough to back him up this time. Those hunters she's been friendly with are still going to be a problem though."

"No, they won't. The hunters made quite the enemy a while ago. I tipped them off and gave all the intel we've collected on Shrike. They've agreed to take them off the board for us."