“Hey, hey,” June threw her hands up between them. She looked at Arelia first. “We need all the help we can get. I don’t know what your problem is with streetpunks, but you’ve got to put it aside.”

“Her problem? How about my problem with the way those Regis fuckers stomp around like they own the Block and kill my boys like rats?” Naemi snarled.

June turned to Naemi. “Arelia betrayed the Regis Group to save my life. She’s no more their ally than you are.”

Naemi scowled, unconvinced.

“Maybe a little more,” Sasha murmured.

All three of them spun. He stood slightly behind the trio as though he’d been there all along. Emotionless eyes flicked toward June.

“The hell did this creepy-ass kid come from?” Naemi demanded. Her stance shifted subtly, crowbar pointed at Sasha instead.

“Naemi, meet Sasha. He’s… my adopted kid, kind of?” June tried.

Sasha scowled at Naemi, his whole face scrunching up in disgust.

“What, you wanna fight?” Naemi asked, quirking a brow.

Sasha’s eyes flashed. He spread his feet and raised his hands.

“Calm down. Why don’t we all talk it out?” June said.

“Shut up, grandma!” Naemi launched at Sasha.

He jumped at her in the same instant.

Sparks flew. Arelia screamed.

Naemi’s crowbar smacked down on June’s silver hand. Pain reverberated down her arm into her shoulder. Her bio hand caught Sasha by the forehead. They both pushed against her, but she fought back. Angry, she glared at Naemi, then Sasha. “We’re on the same team, you two. Same team!”

“Still a terrible leader, I see.”

All three turned, startled. Mad Ag led a group of grizzled men and women through the gate. Wrinkled, weatherworn faces peered out from under sunbleached hats, many of them military-style or labeled with the names of veteran’s groups. Those who had harness had practical devices in white, black, skin-tone and silver, from one arm to all four limbs. They carried weapons as if they had their whole lives, and stared at June with grim expressions.

“Agatta.” June nodded a greeting. Instantly on guard, she released Sasha and edged ahead of Naemi, though she wasn’t sure what she was protecting them from. Agatta only held a grudge against her.

Mad Ag chuckled. “Cute. You can call me Mad Ag like you always do. No need to show respect in front of your friends.”

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Naemi squinted at her, then at Mad Ag. “You got beef, ol’ lady?”

“A whole damn cow.” She stomped up to June, until they were so close June could feel her breath on her face. Fierce eyes glared into June’s.

“Damn,” Naemi whispered to herself, impressed.

June met her glare and stared back, unwilling to so much as blink. For a long moment, they stood, frozen. Neuther willing to back down. Neither willing to admit defeat.

In the end, June looked away first.

Mad Ag chuckled, then shook her head. “I won’t turn you in. Not ‘til after we stomp Regis. Told the boys not to, either. Course… once Regis is gone, you’re free game.”

“Wouldn’t expect any less,” June said.

Mad Ag turned back to the ragged group behind her. “Alright, let’s dig in! Put up some barricades and shit.” She turned to Naemi and the punks. “You kids, got any muscle on you? Grab some scrap and let’s block off the road.”

Move the scrap… June’s eyes went wide. “Wait, there’s some equipment out back that could help.”

“Ooh, the bulldozers? Hell yeah! I’ll drive.” Naemi scurried off toward the back of the lot.

June shot Mad Ag an apologetic look and hurried after her, glad for the excuse to escape.

Mad Ag grunted, but said nothing. Instead, she nodded at the punks. “They’ll be coming down from the tower. Let’s cut off the road to the Block.”

The punks scoffed.

“Do it yourself, grandma.”

“Go fuck yourself!”

“If you’re so damn smart, then do it.”

Naemi cleared her throat, and the punks settled down. “If you don’t want those Regis assholes to call ya a bunch of dumbasses again, then help her out while I’m gone. Except Charl. You come with me.”

“Sasha—” June turned, but the kid was already gone. She sighed quietly and led the way to the rear of the scrapyard.

Charl hurried after them, barely hiding a grin at escaping physical exertion. June surveyed him out of the corner of her eye as they walked. He was skinnier than the other punks, tall and bony the way boys in their late teens could get, and didn’t have any visible harness. His leather jacket hung off his narrow frame awkwardly, and didn’t have any of the spikes or embroidery that the other punks had. Skinny jeans accentuated how slender his legs were and hiked high over his ankles in an obviously unintentional way. High cheekbones evoked a scholar or model more than a punk. A dreamy look in his eye, he wandered along quietly beside Naemi.

In contrast, Naemi was short and burly. She was muscular in a way that said she hadn’t come across it intentionally. Chubby cheeks gave her a perpetually cheerful look, even when she frowned. Her arms, in red harness, creaked slightly as she walked, hinting at disrepair. Slung over her shoulder, her constant companion, the crowbar, stood at the ready for any threat. Her eyes were sharp and darted constantly. Even as June watched, Naemi gently nudged Charl out of the way of some scrap that could have tripped him. Charl bumped out of the way, unaware, the dreamy look in his eyes undisturbed.

Naemi caught June’s eye. June startled. Before she could look away, Naemi winked. June shook her head, but couldn’t suppress a smile. So that’s how it is.

She turned back around and froze. The back of the lot stood before her. The neighboring factory looked the same as it ever had, wall half-broken, vats dented. The parking lot was as run-down as she remembered. There was only one difference: the equipment was gone.

The dots connected. Construction equipment. Regis tearing down the block. The demolition exo-harness that tore down her apartment. Her jaw dropped. When I came to visit, did you already know, Strider?

“Eh? Where’d they go?” Naemi lifted a hand to her shade her eyes and peered into the parking lot.

Charl frowned. “They took it, didn’t they. That was Regis’ tech.”

June twisted her lips. “Damn.” So much for using it to help blockade the roads.

Naemi giggled and nudged Charl. “I wouldn’t be disappointed just yet.”

“Ah, yeah. Strider pissed off Naemi, so… we, ah, I believe the vernacular is fucked, with those bulldozers,” Charl said.

“They were Strider’s?” June asked, confused.

“Who knows? But if the Regis boys bring them to battle, they’re going to be in for a treat,” Naemi said, grinning.