A terrible spike of pain from my eye woke me. With a gasp I tensed up. Suddenly, a burst of gunfire erupted from just beside my head. I scrambled off the mattress and dove behind the crate next to it. Desperately, I searched for where the shots came from. I didn’t see anyone. As my brain fully awoke, I hesitantly looked down at what I was holding. With a groan, I carefully moved my finger away from the trigger of the Ticon I’d had in my hands all night. I flipped the safety on and removed the mag to check how much ammo I had left. Six rounds left. So two bursts or six charged shots. Unfortunately, I doubted I could handle the recoil from a charged shot. I reinserted the mag and placed the gun in my backpack.

The pain in my eye was terrible. Every time I shifted my gaze it made the mess that was my eye move against the scabbed remains of my eyelids. I tried to focus on not moving my eyes and just moving my head. That was better. Still horrible, but better. I needed to get a ripperdoc to take care of this. There was no way I could afford an ocular implant, but hopefully I had enough to get them to just take it out or something.

As I shifted, a sharp pain from my ankle made me gasp. I gingerly sat down on the dirty mattress and pulled up my pant leg to take a look. My ankle was swollen to hell and tender to the touch. Now that the adrenaline from the impromptu wakeup call was starting to fade, my other injuries were reminding me of their presence. With every breath I took, my ribs sent shooting pain through me. Every facial movement I made pulled on the scabbed over wound, causing a searing spike of agony.

I rummaged through the bottom of my bag, took out the MaxDoc and took another hit. The itching sucked, but it was nothing in comparison to everything else. It wouldn’t fix my eye, but it should help keep it from getting infected and speed up the healing for everything.

With the itching flooding through all my injuries and the pain an insistent unending drumbeat, I held carefully still, making sure to resist the temptation to move my eyes. Tears started leaking down my face. They stung my ruined eye as they fell.

This is too much. Everything hurts so much! I can’t do this. I can’t do anything while in this much pain. What am I going to do?! It hurts too much! It’s too much! I need some more Dorph. I just can’t deal with all this.

Trembling slightly, I pulled out the Dorph inhaler and took a careful hit. Within seconds, the pain flowed away to a dull, almost imperceptible, ache. The trembling was gone. I hadn’t overdone it this time.

I need to be careful. I get why people can’t stop taking this. It feels way too good. But, right now I need it. I need to be able to move and think and get things done.

My stomach rumbled, distracting me from my thoughts. There were a few vending machines about a block away. I passed them on my way here last night. Before I got going I pulled out my cyberdeck and my small horde of eddies.

I stuffed the MaxDoc and Dorph back into the bag and put the cyberdeck and eddies in my pockets. Since I didn’t have a good way to carry the kitchen knife and it was a piece of shit anyway, I decided to just leave it behind. Only slightly painfully, I slung the backpack onto my shoulders and started making my way towards breakfast.

Thankfully, the rain had stopped at some point during the night. It was late in the morning and the streets were crowded. I’d learned a while back to stay unnoticed and out of the way when on the street. You didn’t want some corpo asshole, gangoon, or cyberpsycho to get angry at you for dirtying their pants or whatever. That was a quick way to get yourself some broken bones or, if you were particularly unlucky, a bullet. For me, right then, I just really didn’t want to get knocked over. I was hurt enough as it was.

When I reached the vending machine I pulled out my cyberdeck. I had the money to buy something, but why would I buy it if I could steal it. And anyways, I had other plans for that money. The low-security on the flaking yellow painted machine made this doable. I pulled a cord from the old dented aluminum casing of my cyberdeck and carefully jacked it into a small, hidden access point beneath a loose panel. On the small flickering screen of my deck I selected Breach Protocol to gain control of the machine’s systems. The program worked its way through the defenses with some help on my part. When the Code Matrix interface appeared on the tiny screen, I quickly input the correct characters, watching as each selection nested and overlapped to form a cohesive sequence. Once through, I uploaded a basic Control daemon.

With the ICE bypassed and my daemon in place, I accessed the vending machine’s control panel. Navigating through its software on the small screen was a familiar challenge and I managed to override the payment and selection systems quickly. A smile had just started to cross my face when a tug on my scabbed over wound reminded me that facial movements were a bad idea. Emergent smile gone, I executed the final command. The vending machine whirred to life, dropping an XXL Burrito into the dispenser slot.

I grabbed my prize and walked away as quickly as I could. It would be a while before I could hack that machine again. That particular machine was owned by All Foods and they’d notice quickly if I stole from them too often. Corps were dangerous to mess with if you weren’t careful. I’d learned how to hack from an older girl, Tammy. She’d shown me how to get into the vending machines. Every day, she’d go down the street to hack the same one. Then one day, she left as usual and just never came back. The vending machine she used was swapped out for a newer version that same day.

As I went to take a bite, I quickly realized that eating was going to suck until my face healed. Thankful for the Dorph, I took tiny bites as I gingerly worked my way through breakfast. The CHOO2 fumes and cacophony of a busy day in Night City accompanied me as I limped down the street. A block down, I found a nice dark alley out of the way. I spotted a comfortable looking crate in the detritus littered through the alley. Sitting there watching the crowds and eating my breakfast, I took a moment to think.

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I need to get my eye taken care of and I need a good safe spot to hide out and heal. Anything easy to find will be taken. I need a place that hasn’t been noticed, or is too dangerous for even stupid people to take, or… I need to take someone else’s spot and keep it from anyone who would want to take it from me… Finding a good spot someone hasn’t taken would just be up to luck and I don’t think I’m very lucky. The dangerous areas… police stations… Maelstrom hangouts… fuck, where else? The other gangs aren’t too bad to be near. They are at least predictable. But, those areas are already claimed. The police are just too good at catching people for me to slip by. Near the Maelstrom is an option. A terrible option. But it’s on the list.

Okay, how about taking someone else’s spot?

I looked down at myself — a bloody, limping, half blind, underfed 8 year old.

Not going to be able to scare people into leaving. But I do have a gun and some eddies. And killing those guys last night wasn’t too hard. Why did the Rats talk about killing someone like it was a big deal? It was so easy. Whatever.

So, find a spot near a Maelstrom hangout and hope for the best or kill the people in a safer place, take it for myself, and kill anyone who tries to take it from me.

About half way through the burrito I was stuffed. I had no way to store the rest, so I tossed it onto the ground with all the rest of the trash.

One way, I just have to hope that I don’t get caught and don’t have to fight people I can’t win against. Or, the other way, I can choose my fight and a spot that nobody strong would care about taking. Taking a spot seems like a better idea, but for that I need ammo and maybe grenades or something. I don’t have enough money to do that and also get my eye taken care of… The people I take the place from could have some eddies… Maybe… Whatever, if I have to, I’ll just take some more Dorph to deal with the pain until I can get the eddies I need. Going without a place to sleep or staying near the Maelstrom are still worse options.

With that final thought, I got up and started limping my way toward the Kabuki Roundabout.

As I carefully made my way into the crowds packing the place, I noticed a middle aged asian lady at a street stall was eyeing me with a frown. So were many of the other stall owners who had noticed me. Chatter in a mix of Mandarin and English surrounded me as I shuffled my way through. I had to be careful not to get trampled or get too close to any of the stalls. Enough kids had tried stealing here and gotten a lesson from the Claws for me to know better. I didn’t want any of the stall owners to think I was trying anything.

When I hesitantly limped my way into Straight Shooters, the man at the front counter started watching me intently. With some degree of trepidation, I made my way over to him.

“I need some ammo for a Ticon and some grenades.”

He looked at me silently for a moment. He scanned my injuries and the general state of me.

“Okay kid. Sure. If you have the money I’ll sell you what you need.”

He pulled out a box of ammo and flipped up a screen set into the counter.

“You can see a list of our available grenades here.”

He pointed at the screen then paused. I wasn’t tall enough to see the screen. My head didn’t even reach the top of the counter.

“Or not… How about you just tell me what you need and I’ll grab something for you.”

“Umm… A normal one and an EMP?”

I could remember seeing a small fight between the Tiger Claws and the Maelstrom where EMPs were thrown. They seemed to take down those with lower quality implants. At least for a bit. And that was all I was really looking for. I wasn’t planning on going after anyone who would have implants that could resist an EMP grenade.

He pulled out two grenades. One colored blue and the other red.

Pointing at the blue one he said, “This is the EMP.” Moving to point at the other one he said, “And this is the fragmentation. Which is what I assumed you wanted. It's what most people think of when they say grenade. Also, I grabbed the cheapest ones since I doubt you have much money.”

I just nodded in agreement and absorbed the new information.

“Each of the grenades will cost you a hundred and the ammo will be 50. Making your total is 250 eddies.”

Hesitating for a moment, unsure, I asked, “Why so much for the ammo? Doesn’t handgun ammo usually cost less than half that?”

With a sigh, the man ran a hand over his face.

“I’m already giving you a gonk deal on the grenades kid. But fine. To start with, handgun ammo can range in price wildly depending on caliber, rarity, and manufacturer. But you’re still right about this stuff being more expensive. When you’ve got a tech pistol like this that magnetically accelerates the projectile you need a different type of ammo. In this case it is a dart-like thing with fins that is encased in a sabot which detaches when it leaves the barrel.

Don’t ask me why, but for whatever reason, the manufacturing process or materials used or maybe random corporate nonsense, the ammo costs more. Not to mention, the Ticon is an outdated gun and the ammo for it isn’t really used for any other model. That alone makes the stuff more expensive just due to rarity.”

I listened closely, taking advantage of the opportunity to learn. I hadn’t noticed the fallen sabot pieces when I fired the gun yesterday.

With a nod and a muttered thanks, I pulled out the eddies and placed them on the counter. He pushed my items across to where I could reach and I scooped up everything. I put it all in my backpack and left without another word. His eyes lingered on me as I limped my way out, his expression heavy and unreadable.