They had spent the week going from town to town, gathering supplies for their journey. Rachel would mostly be the one heading into town and acquiring supplies for the both of them while Touchstone stayed behind; gathering information, calling in favors, and working out travel plans. Touch did everything he could to keep from going stir crazy. Rachel could see that it pained him to send someone else to shoulder the risk of getting caught while he stayed behind, but he, realistically, could only go out at night.
After their training, chores, and general routines were done, they would often sit together and create comprehensive plans and backup plans before she would go into town. Rachel didn’t think it was necessary, but it was the only thing that eased Touch’s anxiety. The plans were always extremely flexible and thorough. Not precise and detailed and ‘need to know’ like the ones she went over in the military. They all mostly boiled down to her knowing all the routes and resources at her disposal, as well as all the potential dangers, before heading into town. Then choosing what best worked for her and being able to improvise and fall back to other options if needed.
They moved from camp to camp and shelter to shelter, never staying in one place for more than a day or two. Sometimes it was a barren campsite with little to no commodities. Sometimes it was a community shelter like the first; warm and dry, complete with Wi-Fi and stocked with provisions. One time, while it was raining, it was even someone’s home on the outskirts of town.
Now, they each had a light camping kit; complete with tarps, sleeping bags, water filters, and basically anything else they could need to live out in the woods. They rarely encountered people out here, and carefully avoided the slightest hints of human activity when they did.
They continued sleeping in shifts and taking naps whenever they had the time during the day. Twice throughout the week people had stumbled onto their camp. Both times were fellow fugitives running from mercenaries and bounty hunters. Tensions were a little taut those nights until both parties went their separate ways the following morning.
The battalion of mercenaries had set up in the Ashville, the town northeast of Nuever. They spent the week settling in and mobilizing the local governments to facilitate their mass suppression of crime and corruption. Throughout the week, they began raising civilian militias, armed mostly with batons and zip-ties. Only the highest ranking and loyal militia would be allowed firearms. These militias had begun erecting checkpoints and patrols all throughout the towns.
The atmosphere of the townspeople was just starting to rise after the initial incursion of bounty hunters, but things were undoubtedly changing. Most of the militias and checkpoints were a joke, set up as an empty show of power, populated by many of the same people that sheltered and assisted criminals in the first place. But there were undeniably people who took their new roles seriously. People were already getting drunk on the power gifted to them with the arrival of AriCorp.
During her trips into town, she saw multiple bounty hunters being belligerent and demanding of special treatment like more food and faster service, compared to last week, when they couldn’t even operate out in the open. People started dividing and isolating based on their opinions about AriCorp and the players of the Corporate Congress. There were now corporate friendly and anticorporate establishments and signs sprouting up everywhere. People eyed strangers with suspicion, instead of welcoming them with open arms. For the first time since going on the run, she had to be careful about what part of town she ended up in.
Rachel picked up on rumors and hearsay around the towns whenever she passed by a busy place or sat waiting on a contact to deliver supplies. She tried to ignore them, gossip and speculation always did more harm than good, but she couldn’t help but tune in whenever she heard of Touchstone or, as he was more famously known, the Golem.
Ever since that hipster mentioned the name, it felt like Rachel was hearing it everywhere. Tara was right when she called him their little folk hero. Some were angry at Touch, believing him to be the reason for AriCorp’s occupation. More were hopeful when they spoke of him, believing he was everyone’s best chance for fighting back, and ridding these towns of the looming specter of corporate oppression once and for all.
She heard nothing of Touch’s grand strategy that he posted on the nets, and any stories she heard about ‘the Golem’ being a violent brute were cartoonishly exaggerated. One story stuck with her:
“I saw him on my neighbor’s roof.” an elderly woman whispered loudly to her lunch date, a balding man with a shining head. “I was bringing Sarah some food, she still can’t hardly walk after her surgery, and there he was, patching up the roof of the barn.” She continued on, as if in a hurry, “Apparently, all he asked for in return was to sleep in the barn for a few nights. I was terrified, but Sarah was elated. She said he was very polite and helped out all around the place. She was sad to see him go. Can you believe it?”
Towards the end of the week, Rachel had to turn back before getting the radios they needed. She spotted militia halting pedestrians, and plugging their phones into a handheld device before allowing them through the checkpoint. If they started bringing those out, it wasn’t safe for her anymore. It was a device used in other towns and cities to scan for black market electronics.
“Damn. At least you got out okay.” Touch says when she tells him what happened. “We're out of time. I’m going to see if Ortega’s found transportation yet.”
It was still early morning when she got back. They spent the next day and a half resting, waiting on word from Ortega. Rachel spent her time drawing in her sketchbook and on her tablet. She would occasionally look over to see Touch contorting his body in fascinating and unnatural positions. By the time she finished drawing a cicada, veiny and membranous wings outstretched against a clear blue sky and a shining sun, she sees Touch bend over and start doing handstand push-ups.
When he took his shirt off, she could see his torso was the same slate gray as the rest of his body. During their sparring sessions over the week, Rachel noted how he guarded his torso and head carefully, as if he were vulnerable there. She almost exclusively scored hits on his limbs. They would spar slowly and never hit hard enough to penetrate the skin of even an unarmored opponent.
She guessed that only his limbs were nearly impenetrable, and based on the time they fell in back to back at Mickey’s, she guessed that his torso and head had only the aesthetic of stone, but were soft and vulnerable. That kind of information would be invaluable to Touchstone’s enemies. But if that’s so, AriCorp would know, so why wouldn’t they leak the information to their bounty hunters? Unless Atla’s records were somehow destroyed in the coup.
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Around noon the next day, Ortega calls. Touch puts his tablet on speaker.
“I’ve got something, but you aren’t going to like it.” Ortega says.
“What is it?” Touch asks
“Jonah’s crew set up a coyote service outside Mayvern.”
Touch did not look pleased.
“What’s wrong?” Rachel asks.
“Jonah runs a gang based in Mayvern. A very corporate-friendly town past Ashville and Sancam to the northeast. I don’t like them. They’re in it for profit and control. Not like the people here. I wouldn’t put it past them to betray us.”
“They’ve never cashed a bounty.” Ortega the Tablet chimes in. “I’ve worked out a deal with them. Wanna hear?”
Touch hesitates.
“Fine. Let’s hear it.”
“I want one of those device scanners they started rolling out around town. If I get my hands on one, I might be able to reverse engineer it, and find an exploit that will let us slip our devices past 'em. Jonah agreed to supply the manpower and the area of operation. I need you to come up with a plan to steal at least one or two without anyone noticing. In return, they have vehicle transport that can take you where you need to go.”
Touch thinks it over.
“You still got those fake scanners from last time, right?”
“I scrapped ‘em, but I still got the parts. It won’t work. The outside may look the same, and it’ll do the same thing as the original, but it won’t run the same software, and won’t have the same internals. Anyone who picks it up-”
“Will it all look the same when burnt to a crisp?” Touch smiles.
A long pause.
“Maybe. But it won’t fool anyone if they do a proper inspection.”
“Good enough. We’re on our way.”
“No, you can’t come back here. Some reinforcements arrived on the supply convoy from the city. They’re setting up here in Nuever. I don’t have any information yet. All I know is that a second major, named Sanders, arrived and he’s talking to the council. I’ll arrange to have the dummy scanners taken to Mayvern once I’ve built them. Should be there in a week.”
“Ok. Keep me informed. And do not stick your neck out.” Touch says.
“Yes, mom.” Ortega replies.
“Talk to you soon. Be careful.” Rachel says before ending the call.
Touchstone’s face is frozen in thought.
“What are you thinking?” Rachel prys after several seconds.
“I’ve overlooked something… what happened to the team backing up the robots that attacked you?”
“There was no team, which I found strange. They shouldn’t have sent in that kind of hardware without backup.”
Touch studies her face as she talks.
“I agree. Uncharacteristic of a conventional military. I didn’t press before because your business is your own. But this new team changes things. They’re here for you, aren’t they?”
She hesitates.
“Yeah. I think so. But some things aren’t adding up.”
“Yes, this team has their own agenda. They were smuggled here in secret to find you. You’ve been able to move about the towns unnoticed, and you aren’t on any public wanted lists. Someone wants you gone and wants it done in secret.”
A long pause.
”Could it be Aristide?”
They lock eyes.
She averts her gaze.
“I don’t know…”
Could it be her own son? Did he hate her so much?
“I might be able to help if I knew exactly-”
“No. We know what we need to. I left when Aris and Talia told me what they were getting involved in. I tried to talk them out of it, but they wouldn’t listen. Now I’m being hunted. Exactly why and exactly who doesn’t matter.”
“Very well.” Touch didn’t push, but Rachel could see the gears turning in his head.
They broke camp the next day and started heading north.
The best part of being a fugitive was the constant travel. It gave her a steady stream of chances to exercise and clear her head. And despite having less time, she found herself drawing more than in the past months. She felt immersed and in-tune with the world; the rich shadows and shades of of the undergrowth, the breeze cooling her skin, the rough trees pressing up against a clear blue sky, streaked by clouds. The constant buzzing of cicadas and chirping of birds. The tickle of spiderwebs breaking against her face as she walked.
They both stop.
“You heard that?” Touch mumbles.
“Yeah.”
There it was again, a faint pop.
Touch motions with his hand, and they both head off the trail. Leaves rustle underfoot as they follow the sound. Rachel notes how they both avoid snapping any twigs. The popping grows louder and more frantic as they pick their way through the trees and bushes. Soon, they come up on either a small dog, or a large cat, caught in a miniature bear trap, blood running down its leg. It was breathing heavy, thrashing sporadically, and throwing up sparks and lightning everywhere, ionizing the air.
Touch hands her the pistol.
“Cover me.” He says. Then moves in.
Rachel scans the woods all around, then throws down her pack and pulls out some adhesive medical patches from her bag. It was a bandage designed to cover up a wound and be absorbed into the skin after some time. Perfect for strays. She throws them to Touch, who had released the trap and had the animal snugly pinned in his lap. It was barely moving anymore, its jaw clamped on Touch’s gray forearm.
It’s too tired to struggle. The thought hits her like a punch to the gut.
Touch firmly wraps the wound in the clear bandages. Inspiring a fresh wave of bites and kicks and sparks from the creature, then it stops moving. Rachel’s heart breaks. She steps forward.
“He’s fainted.” Touch states. He pushes the dirty fur on its neck aside and reveals a red collar.
They both look at each other.
Touch hesitates, then nods.
Silently, she leads them to a concealed spot. They drop their packs, and wait.