Jax hurt. He tried to roll his shoulders to relieve the pressure that was building from having his hands tied tightly behind his back. His shirt was cut, a long stripe of red tracking across his chest where the knife had pierced both the fabric, and him. The welts on his wrists from the ties were starting to throb, and his hand that had been cut by the fence was numb. His face was bruised, blood was dripping from his lip in a wet torrent, and he was struggling to breathe. But, he wasn’t talking.

“Jackson,” a voice teased. “Where are they?” A wild-eyed man with a Brooklyn accent trawled at Jax, as he flicked a blade the length of his forearm back and forth, in an encouraging fashion.

When Jackson was in BLUBALZ’ receptacle he was so absorbed in trying to figure out how to open the hatch that he hadn’t noticed the TrashBot coming back into his space, until it was close enough that he couldn’t get out. Instead, Jax had turned, scrambling for purchase, to reach the hatch at the end before he was properly squashed by the giant machine. Due to the way the hatch connected to BLUBALZ to receive the collection of trash, there was enough space for Jax to stand, pressed against the wall. After catching his breath, and making sure he hadn’t shat himself from the fear, Jax awkwardly shuffled his way towards the hatch. He waited while BLUBALZ emptied its load and then considered what to do next.

Jumping straight into the hatch without inspecting it first had not been his plan. But, Jax regularly let his impulsive nature drive his decisions, and so he dove down into the hatch and only regretted his decision until his next fuck up came along, which unsurprisingly wasn't that far away.

The receptacles must have all linked to one big trash pile underground, because he landed on a mound of filth, the stench of which was overwhelmingly putrid. Considering BLUBALZ had just emptied a load from its Grouse Park route, Jax was thankful that he hadn’t just found himself impaled by hundreds of needles.

If the situation wasn’t so disgusting, Jax may have been in awe at the way the whole trash system worked, there were hills of trash and it looked as though there were worker bots sorting through it, using tech to identify organic and non-organic matter. They then ensured the rubbish was sent off to the correct processing plant for compost, recycling or general disposal.

In an attempt to take control of a situation that had so far been wildly out of hand, Jax shuffled off the mound of disgusting debris, which, all things considered, he was somewhat pleased to have fallen upon, stood on shaky legs and looked around. He unstuck his damp clothes, trying not to gag at the thought of the trash-juice leaching into his skin, and shook bits of stuck rubbish from himself. The heat in the room was immense, piles of sickly trash stacked underground led to a lot of heat generation, and the installed cooling units couldn’t keep up with the demand. Probably no air-filtering either, Jax mused, since the workers were bots, they wouldn’t be running to their union about the intoxicating smell.

The aforementioned worker bots weren’t paying any attention to Jax, so he focused on the refuse rickle he had just climbed off, and tried to figure how many days worth was still sitting unchecked. He went to use his LENS to help, but it was momentarily offline, probably due to the thickness of the concrete surrounding him interfering with its connectivity. Well, he would have to do this without tech, no problem - he'd lived the first half of his life without a LENS, so he could do this withoutit too.

Jax first considered the frequency with which TrashBots did their cleaning and emptying runs back to the depot. He figured there may have been a drop off twice a day, which meant that there would be maybe five or six loads of trash after the Strip-tech™ case.

But, figuring out how many loads of rubbish there were was only part of the problem. He didn’t know how much trash was in a typical load from BLUBALZ. Grouse Park was filthy, pretty much at all times, and that wasn’t accounting for the other places Jax had followed BLUBALZ to before the TrashBot had come back to base. So he suspected there was always going to be a lot in this pile even if the worker bots were speedy at their tasks. Looking around the cavernous detritus dungeon, he could see the other mounds around him looked significantly smaller when compared to the pile before him.

Appreciating the even spread of worker bots, Jax realised the sheer amount of debris strewn around the areas and therefore collected by BLUBALZ may work in his favour. Each spot had the same number of worker bots - regardless of variable size of the mountain or molehill, which meant that the bots for BLUBALZ’ pile had more to work through, and presumably the pile took a lot longer to dwindle down.

Taking this as a win, Jax smiled, then retched as a dribble of warm liquid fell into his mouth from above. Jax looked up, and regretted it almost immediately. Due to the heat, the trash liquid was condensing and there were swathes of drips ready to fall. His need to hurry his task along and leave the trash kingdom intensified.

Jax took a deep breath, found a discarded shirt in a pile behind him, tearing it into two to use them as makeshift hand covers, and began his search.

What must have been hours later, he stopped his endeavour. His entire being ached from the physical labour, and the stench had long ago watered his eyes dry and caused an insatiable headache. Jax had dug through this pile for a long time, even finding a wrapper from a candy bar he had disposed of himself five days earlier - in the trash can by Grouse Park, not on the ground - identifiable by the writing “Enjoy ;)” written on it by Pelham before she had given it to him.

But, no case was to be found.

Defeated, rancid smelling, and with a strong desire to leave this suppurate grotto to douse himself in bleach, Jax searched for an exit.

An illuminated sign caught his attention and he started for the door, weaving through piles of trash that skittered across the floor, keeping his eyes cast down to avoid any trash-juice from falling into any open orifice.

The door was plenty rusted, and though there was a handle on it, Jax noted brown streaks on it that gave him pause for thought. Until he remembered he was likely already caked in literal shit, so what was a little more?

He pushed the handle, grimacing as the substance transferred cleanly (or rather, not) to his hand, and lumbered up the steel stairs that were marked by multiple signs and arrows as a fire escape. He didn’t have the case, so Jax needed to think of what else he could do. He was going to have to see if his contact could get more, though he didn’t know if that would work since he wasn’t so much as given the case, as he took it when his contact wasn’t looking. But they should have known Jax would do that, right? That’s on them.

Once he stepped out of the fire escape’s door to the outside, Jax had to shield his eyes from the morning sun, the glare was a stark contrast to the dark environment he had just spent the better part of five hours in, though it wasn’t unwelcome as the warmth began to spread through him. The dry heat the sun began to offer him was substantially more life confirming for him than the oppressive wet warmth had been in the underground cavern.

Jax’s LENS came back online, and a hazy image loaded in front of his face, slowly becoming more visible as the stylised LENS logo of an ouroboros snake and a sun. Once that disappeared, he looked up his contact and was about to send a message to ask for another meet up, maybe an exchange if Jax was lucky, when his feet flew out from under him.

Jax landed hard on his back, a WHOOOOOSH of air escaped his lungs.

“Fuuuuuck,” he wheezed, struggling to regain his breath.

Then an antagonistic face with a smirk that could rival his own looked at him, then a hand raised a case that looked suspiciously like the one he had spent near five hours looking for.

“Lookin’ for this were ya mate?” An Australian accent that Jackson knew belonged to Tyke from the Greenfield Gang.

Jackson schooled his expression, refusing to show his surprise, anger or frustration.

“I bet he was,” the Brooklyn accent, Jet, said, raising his foot and stomping down hard onto Jax’s face.

And then it went black.

Until he had been woken up for the beating.

____

Unlike Jackson, when Sarah woke up it was a much better experience for her than the previous day had been. The whole body ache from yesterday was gone, and she could move in increments without crashing waves of nausea trying to knock her askew. She still didn’t feel great, but she could handle some nausea and a headache. That was preferred over the combination she had of that with a body that felt like it had been shattered like a junkie’s teeth while biting into an apple.

Struggling to overcome the feeling of rejection she felt because Jax didn't visit her yesterday, Sarah had to remind herself that Maureen had likely implemented a strict “Don’t see Sarah, or you’ll see me” policy, bless her, and that for once in his life Jackson Healy had listened to someone else. When she felt up to it, she would find Jax later, to apologise for everything and congratulate him on the big achievement of being selfless for once.

After Seb had left last night, he promised he would get a water sample from the lake, or whatever obscure water source it was, that Sarah had fallen into, to see if they could identify anything that could be causing the ongoing pain. She was glad they were helping her, even if it felt like a bit of overkill going to that extent for her. She was just some homeless young adult who happened to royally fuck up wearing some illegal tech, and…

Ugh, the tech. Sarah needed to find out more about it. She needed to get more out of AJ, because she figured he knew something, and anything was better than nothing to help get Jax out of trouble. He was probably in even more trouble now since she had interfered. But, Sarah knew she had only taken one envelope, not even close to the entire stash Jax was trying to blame her for, which meant that something else was happening.

Originally, Sarah had been loath to tell Jax how she knew about the Strip-tech™, but thinking it through, maybe she needed to. If Pelham told anyone else, other than Sarah, even she could be in trouble. Sarah didn’t think it was likely Pelham would tell anyone else, the young woman turned into a lovesick puppy wherever Jax was considered, fawning over him for attention and hanging off him both literally and figuratively. She was the last one who would have wanted to see Jax in trouble, so, being the doting friend she had told Jax’s big sister, who of course, had started the course they were on now.

Sarah put her LENS on, hoping to see a message from Maureen, but instead she was welcomed by the same message she had been getting each time she reconnected it since her swim.

This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

If I do, will you stop asking? Sarah thought bitterly.

Sarah frowned. Though LENS units were a form of AI, they weren’t typically an AI that was great at communicating beyond simple commands like “Tell me the time” or “Message Paul to break up.” There were some units that could do a little more, and learn to communicate beyond the simple tasks based on your verbiage, but the state one that Sarah was sporting definitely wasn’t one of those, and it wouldn’t be, no matter how many times AJ upgraded it.

Fine, show me my enhancements.

Sarah didn’t have to wait long for the list to generate, and to be honest, what she saw confused her more than the ludicrous conversation she was having with her LENS.

Increased Agility;

Increased Spirit;

Increased Stamina.

Please continue to use your LENS to aid your development further.>

What are these enhancements? What does this mean? Sarah didn’t really mean to direct these thoughts to her LENS, but an answer popped-up in front of her nonetheless.

Strip-tech™ enhancements? What did this even mean? Sarah felt much better than she had the last few days, but this bombardment of new information was causing her headache to rise again.

Who are you?

Thinking this was taking it all a bit far, and taking into account an overwhelming desire for self-preservation, Sarah dismissed the messages, and sat still. Her eyes glazed over with a fatigue she hadn’t noticed as she digested what she had learned and what she could do with it.

What could she do with this information? AJ would be the best first stop, and so she began to write a quick message to him - but the best way to to elucidate what she knew (nothing?) and how he could help her to learn more (everything) was much more challenging than she anticipated it would be, and it drained her quickly. A rush of nausea overcame Sarah, and she felt herself falling to the side and her head hit her pillow with a quiet WHOOOOOSSHH as the pillow compressed under her.

Not trusting the LENS and what it was offering, Sarah ignored the question, took a moment, and tried to stand up. Though her body was now feeling a lot stronger and well recovered, she couldn’t say the same about her stomach or headache.

Sarah checked the time on her LENS and was pleased to see it was early enough that she would make it in time to the cafeteria to have a meal before it was all taken, she was hoping that the nausea was due to an underlying hunger that needed addressing. She reached for the crutch nearest to her, paused, and decided to give standing without an aide a go. Hesitantly, she pushed herself forward off the bed and slid onto both feet. She righted herself using the wall for leverage and took a couple of shaky footsteps. Sarah wasn’t feeling the strongest, but she could walk. Pleased she had proved to herself she didn’t have to rely on her crutches, she grabbed them anyway, the cafeteria was a decent walk away, and, you know, just in case.

The pain patches had done their job, and though the nausea was currently fighting to override her stability, she knew she could do it. Sarah opened the door to her room, closed it behind her, and locked it with a swipe of her hand. There weren’t many rooms that had locks that actually worked anymore, but she was glad that hers was one of them. A little bit of privacy at New Haven was good, even though most of the residents kept to themselves, she was never scared about standing up for herself, or AJ, against the likes of the Morriseys, so long as her room could be locked.

Only moving once she was surefooted, Sarah hobbled slowly for the stairway that led to the cafeteria. As her transit was taking her so long, she had time to once again be thankful at how lucky they were that this newly built hospital never met its mark as the hospital haven it was destined to be, but instead became their haven. Further, the lacklustre effort to rid them from its bowels only cemented this as their home - from the filthy floors, to the ratty walls, the hospital was the perfect abode.

Sarah pushed through the doors to get to the stairwell and, leaning on the hand rail, she hoisted herself over the broken top step and landed very gracefully on the second step. Though her body shook from the extra exertion, using the top step was never recommended unless you wanted your trip downstairs to be a lot more sudden. The crutches were definitely helpful now, as the stairs down were wearing her down a lot more.

The journey to the cafeteria was a lonely one, though the lack of company was certainly welcomed, as the potential of running into the Morrisey’s made her stomach turn. Pushing open the double doors to the cafeteria, Sarah did her best to ignore the hushed voices and stares that seemed to surround her like a blizzard. But, the self-consciousness of not showering in days, not brushing her teeth, or even changing her clothes from the gear that Maureen had given her, got the best of her. She looked down, noting her filthy and creased attire, there was probably vomit on it somewhere. A mix of worry and dejection flooded her and she had to school her thoughts to continue her walk inside.

No one cares.

Ignoring the unhelpful LENS pop-up, Sarah tried to walk casually into the room, but the clicking of the crutches and the half-hobble shuffle she managed probably looked comical to even the most serious of people there. She made her way to the food trays, and tacked onto the end of the breakfast queue, craning her neck to see what was being served today - beans, some fake egg mix and a stale tortilla wrap - when a finger tapped her on the shoulder. Tensing, unsure who it would be, but knowing she didn’t want to talk to anyone, she slowly turned around.

“Hey Sez,” AJ said, smiling.

Sarah instantly relaxed, her shoulders dropped and a light smile forced its way onto her face. Only then did she realise that she had been a bundle of anxiety and nerves coming to the cafeteria. Despite living here for years, any sign of weakness was a known signal amongst the residents that you were an easy target, and AJ’s familiar face reassured her that she still had friends here. This, also clarified her belief that there were also enough people who lived here who never looked twice at anyone, they’d learned the hard way what that could result in.

“Hi AJ,” she said, her voice quiet. Sarah coughed to clear her throat and asked, in a stronger and more determined voice, how he was.

“Good,” he said, encouragingly. “Hey, Pelham and I are sitting over here if you want to join us?” He indicated a table to the left of the room.

“Oh yeah, sure.”

AJ patiently waited while Sarah collected her breakfast items, and then began to lead the way back to the table. She picked up her tray to follow him, but the complexity of keeping the tray steady while avoiding weight bearing, and using one crutch, while carrying everything made the task tricky.

“Oh shit Sez, sorry.” AJ grabbed the tray and she shot him a thankful smile. Though the feeling of being helped or relying on other people made Sarah uncomfortable, she didn’t want beans flipping off the tray and bouncing on the floor, or the sachet of water falling to the ground and bursting open.

Once they reached the table, Sarah gently lowered herself to the seat and thanked AJ for her tray, as he placed it carefully in front of her. She started eating the beans first, not realising how hungry she was until she had finished them without having said a word to either of the others at the table.

“Ah, how are you guys?” Sarah asked sheepishly.

“Great!” Pelham exclaimed excitedly, her round blue eyes were expressive as she spoke, but I was never sure how much intelligence actually lurked behind them. “How are you?” she asked, “I heard you um, had some troubles or something?”

“Yeah, or something is pretty accurate.” Sarah replied, then took a big forkful of egg to avoid speaking.

AJ and Pelham kept their conversation going, while Sarah focused on inhaling her food and looking at everyone around us. The food definitely seemed to help her nausea, at least for now.

After a few minutes, Sarah interrupted AJ and Pelham, brusquely asking if Jax had already been in for his breakfast.

Neither answered her, but instead looked at each other with slight worry on their faces.

“Oh for… what has he done now?” Sarah said, rolling her eyes and her shoulders simultaneously. She was trying to ease the tension that was starting to take hold of her once again.

“Uh,” AJ said, “We - well, it’s just -”

“AJ!” Sarah was exasperated.

“We don’t know, is all.” Pelham finished for him.

“You don’t know?”

“No, we don’t. He ain’t be seen here for a coupla days y’know?” Pelham’s way of speaking was never Sarah’s favourite part of her, but Sarah wasn’t sure she had a favourite part of Pelham to compare it to.

Sarah looked at AJ, incredulous.

“She’s right. We haven’t seen him. After we were in our room and he left, he just hasn’t been home.”

“He hasn’t been home?” Sarah started to feel sick, and the pseudo-eggs she had just made a show of eating was beginning to threaten a reappearance.

“No. Well, we ain’t seen him, like I said innit?”

“Ah, and his door monitor hasn’t gone off either,” AJ added.

Jackson had long ago asked AJ to put a monitor on his door so he could track if anyone went in when he was out, and as part of it AJ had it with his tech, so he no doubt would have checked it after worrying about Jackson’s absence.

Sarah closed her eyes and sighed in defeat.

“I guess we’d better go -”

“You, uh, really can’t go anywhere. Except maybe the hospital.” A voice cut into their conversation. Sarah looked up and saw Seb, his dark brown eyes a chasm of concern.

“I’m fine Seb, or like, better I guess?”

“No. You’re not.”

“Seb, please - I need to go -” Sarah stood, ignoring the pain that began rippling down her body.

“Sarah, AJ and I went to the river where you fell in. It just didn’t make sense that everything we were throwing at healing you wasn’t working, so Doctor Maureen wanted us to go get a sample and -”

Before Seb could finish talking, the cafeteria doors swung open and a large man, with a friendly smile and a beard reminiscent of a small furry dog, with tendrils of mismatched coloured fur strewn about, walked in. A few people clapped, others cheered, one or two smirked, but Sarah just stared at him as he walked straight towards her.

“Sarah Healy, sister of Jackson Healy. I think you need to come with me.”

“With all due respect Captain Haddock, Sarah needs to go to the hospital right away and -”

Captain Haddock looked at Seb, his eyes blazing with battle as his gaze conveyed a challenge.

“With all due respect Sebastian, I think I know exactly what Sarah needs.”

Sarah wasn’t even sure she knew what she needed at this point, but talking to the head of New Haven hospital sure wasn’t on her bingo card of needs right now.