Sasha staggered down the alley, hugging his arm to himself. Stray sparks of electricity danced around the hole. Red and brown and black dripped down his shirt, the blood and oil and whatever else was inside him soaking into the white fabric. Every step ached through his chest. Numbness tingled down his arm, a horrendous nothingness that defied words. He sucked in a shaky breath and put one foot in front of the other. Something dark dripped on the ground, and he wobbled into the wall. Just a little further.

Cheap perfume and smoke clouded the air. A group of passerby in fine clothes approached. Shimmery pink satin, lush dark velvet, a feathered baby-blue bolero jacket. The colors spun and clashed in his flickering vision. Perfume and smoke made his stomach swirl. Disoriented, he tripped and nearly fell. Rather than press on, Sasha put his good shoulder against the wall and closed his eyes to rest, bad arm hugged up against his body with all his might. Don’t notice me. Don’t touch me. Keep moving.

One of them bumped into him. For a split second, the artificial nerves in his arm connected, and half his body screamed in pain. A whimper escaped his lips for half a second before he bit it back. Waves of pain washed through him, even after the nerves disconnected, the memory of pain trapped in his wires. His breath came ragged, shuddering in and out.

“Oh, hey. Where’d you come from, kiddo?”

Someone chuckled. “You’re on the wrong side of the tracks. Where’s your momma?”

“Hey, girl, shoo. You don’t wanna be around here.”

There was a pause. One of them drew closer. He slit his eyes open, fighting the urge to vomit against her overly-sweet, fruity perfume. A woman with bobbed fire-engine red hair frowned back at him, crouched down so their eyes met. Images of cherries danced in hers, superimposed over her pupils and irises. She stared in surprise, mouth forming a perfect red O. “Wait, I know this kid.”

“You know that kid? The hell, Cherri?”

“Saw them with a friend. You alright, kid?”

Sasha nodded.

Cherri’s brows furrowed. “You sure?”

He nodded again, but halfway through, the world went dark. When he opened his eyes, he was sprawled on the floor. No pain. He turned his head, bleary, and found his silver arm sagging away from him, thankfully numb.

“Holy shit!” one of the men exclaimed, hugging his fluffy bolero. He staggered off. The sounds of retching came from nearby.

“Asteri’s sakes, Orlo, hold your damn cookies for once. C’mon, kid. I’ll get you back home.” Cherri delicately slid her arm under his uninjured one and lifted him from the floor. Shiny red nails flashed, and comms materialized in her other hand.

“Tooly? Hey. Listen, I found that kid June was taking home the other night… yeah, they’re in rough shape…Kid! Hey, kid!”

Sasha’s vision flickered again, and he went limp.

--

“Sasha? Sasha!” June shouted, hopelessly. She hurried around the corner and glanced down the alleyway. Empty. Again.

Frustrated, she punched the wall. “Dammit, kid!”

Where was he? Why had he ran after the sniper? Why was there a sniper in the first place? She growled, irritated at her own powerlessness. I should have chased him. I should have put a tracker on him. I should have—

It was too late. Too late for any of that. Sasha was gone, and there was nothing she could do to bring him back.

An image arose in her head. Sasha, limp and bloodied, propped up against the wall, a neat hole through his forehead. She shook her head to banish it and pressed on. He’s out there somewhere. Waiting for me.

Her comms rang, vibrating in her pocket. She lifted the tablet to her ear. “Tooly.”

“What did you do to that kid?”

Her heart leapt. “Sasha—you found him?”

“That’s a word for it. Cherri dragged him in. He’s in bad shape, June. What the hell happened?”

“He got away from me—there was a sniper… he’s alive?”

Tooly sighed deeply. “By all rights, he shouldn’t be.”

“But he is?”

“Hurry your ass over here and see for yourself.”

The call ended. June put down her comms and sprinted for Tooly’s shop.

--

“Where is he?”

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

A pair of construction workers, one with a mechanical hand in tatters, gave her a confused look, and the streetpunk in the corner scowled and put her headphones on. The receptionist, a kid in his teens, jumped. She stomped over to him. “Sasha, where is he?”

“I, uh… I…” he stuttered.

The door creaked open behind her. “Mind not terrorizing the staff?” Tooly drawled.

June whirled on her. “Where is he? Is he okay?”

“Hey, I’ll be with you in a moment, alright?” Tooly called over June’s shoulder. She cocked her head into the hallway, and June followed.

The hallways seemed longer than before. Her shoulders tensed instinctively. She hurried, trying to push Tooly on.

“Relax. Nothing will change if you get there ten seconds sooner or later,” Tooly sighed. She pushed open a door.

Sasha laid on the bed inside, paler than he’d ever looked before. Tubes and wires connected to a hole on his upper chest, right where his silver shoulder met his body. Bits and pieces of metal were laid out around the hole, a half-disassembled puzzle of circuitry and electronics. His skin was white in places, frayed at the surface, and slashed in others, revealing circuitry beneath or sealed with a strange, dark liquid, almost like a scab. Swollen, cut lips marred his pale face, those, too, sealed over.

June rushed to his side. She reached out, but at the last second, twitched her hands away. They hovered helplessly over him, unable to do anything to help. “Is he going to be okay?”

Tooly shrugged. “Damned if I know. I’ve done my best, but you know, I’m not a doctor. That hole’s up against whatever organic’s left in his body. I cleaned his wound and disinfected it and all, stabilized the tech, but if he needs surgery…”

Eyes locked on Sasha, June rubbed her right shoulder. “But he’s here. We can take care of him.”

“Mmm. I can put that arm back together, anyways. The rest…” She shrugged, then tipped her head at June. “Any idea what happened? Mentioned something about snipers?”

“Not much to explain. Someone took some potshots with a rifle. Kid took off. That’s the last I saw.” She looked at Sasha. He was the only one who knew what happened afterwards.

Tooly shook her head. “Thought I’d only have to worry about patching you up, then you had to go and find someone to one up yourself…”

She ducked her head, embarrassed. “Sorry.”

“Keep a better eye on him in the future, alright?” Tooly fixed her with a firm glare.

There was nothing she could do but nod. Sasha could take care of himself, but clearly there were things even he couldn’t handle alone. She’d made the mistake of thinking of him as an adult, a warrior. He was strong, fierce, but he was still a kid. He needed help sometimes. Someone to stop him from making stupid decisions, like charging headlong at a sniper. I should’ve tried harder to stop him. Grabbed him. Ran after him and tackled him, whatever it took. Then, maybe, he wouldn’t be hurt now. But instead, her instincts had taken over. She’d saved herself, and let him run off to get hurt. Like I always do. Old wounds ached in her heart. The friends she’d failed. The teammates she’d lost. She escaped, but how many had she left behind? Dozens. Hundreds. She ducked her head, shoulders hunched. Her face scrunched and her eyes stung, but there were no tears. Just the ghosts of them, from too many days spent lost.

I can’t lose anyone else. I won’t.

Unaware, Tooly continued blandly, walking around Sasha to adjust the angle of his arm against the bed. “There’s a powerful capacitor in that arm. I poked around a bit when I was cleaning things up… he can store a hell of a charge in that arm. No idea what for.”

She finished her loop and sat down on a stool. For one last beat, she looked at Sasha, then turned to June. “What the hell is that kid? Where did he come from?”

June jolted, snapped back to the present, then shook her head and sank down on the other chair, a sad, old number stained with the stress and worries of a thousand people before her, here in hopes of finding an impossible solution. “I don’t know. I…” she paused as something came back to her. “I ran into one of the kids today. From Regis.”

“That other stupid thing you did,” Tooly muttered.

June waved her hand. “One of many. She said something about… Serious Labs? Sounded kind of like that, anyways.”

“At least you got a lead on that, I guess. Serious Labs? What kind of dumb name…” Tooly pulled out her tablet and started typing. There was a pause, and then she looked up. “Seirios, maybe?”

“Sure, could be. Find something?”

Tooly turned her tablet around to show a smooth, modern page, a tasteful crème backsplash with soft curves, bold blacks, neon blues. “They do high-end luxury harness and associated installation. Lot of off-planet business. Lot of business with Synnefo, the city in the sky.” She gestured vaguely. “Asteri.”

June’s eyes flashed.

“June, no. No. Don’t say it. Don’t say a thing.”

“…Fucking Asteri. I knew they were behind it. I knew it.”

“I wouldn’t be so hasty. What’s a high-end harness lab going to do with a bunch of kids from the slum? I know the old song and dance about illegal harness testing, but with harness that expensive, they can afford to pay for their own testers, and I mean, they probably prefer that over some parasite-ridden kids from the slums. Hell, they’ve probably got people lining up to be tested on for free. Harness that expensive, even I’d be tempted.”

June shook her head. “It’s the Asteri. They’re capable of anything.”

Tooly rolled her eyes. “Right, I forgot that we’re being ruled over by a cabal of madmen bent on planetary subjugation for no reason at all.”

June met her eyes. A deep conviction, solid as steel, surfaced in the depths of June’s eyes. Tooly knew. She’d seen. “Our lives mean nothing to them, Tooly. You know this.”

This time, Tooly looked away. “Dammit, June. I mean that they’re rational beings. If they kidnapped the kids, whoever kidnapped the kids, that person, or those people, had a reason for it. No one put up ransom, so it’s not that. I don’t think it’s illegal harness testing for a high-end harness company. There’s got to be something. I don’t know, June. We’re missing something.”

“And where does the Regis Group come into it?” June mused.

Tooly looked at Sasha. June followed her gaze. He looked so small. So pale. Guilt roiled in her gut. How could she ask him to stand by her side? He was a kid. A stupid kid.

Who else would be dumb enough to fight the Asteri?

“Argh,” June muttered. She put her head in her hands. After a moment, she shifted to rub her shoulders.

“Stiff?” Tooly asked.

“My arms hurt.”

“Need a massage?”

June glanced at her. “My other arms.”

There was a moment of silence. Tooly stared at her feet. June closed her eyes and sighed, tired.

Abruptly, Tooly stood. “You can sleep in the garage if you need it. Kid’s gonna be out for a while.”

June nodded.

Tooly hesitated by the door just a moment. She opened her mouth, then shook her head and left without saying anything.

June walked over to Sasha. She touched his forehead, gently nudged a few hairs away from his eyes. “Don’t run off like that, okay? I don’t want to lose you, too.”

Then she, too, walked away, and there was only the beep of the machines and the low hum of the monitors to break the silence.