Rosie

Pain shot through me as consciousness returned. I tried to get up, a crackle of pain shooting up my spine. A twinge of relief, overshadowed quickly by panic, coursed through me. I needed to be quick. Rosie would know I survived. My luck may have been keen enough to land me on a grimy roof rather than the hood of a car or the spire of a church, but the residents of the Antioch Slum were more than used to the tendency of their upper neighbors to toss their toys when the rich bastards were done playing with them, and knew better than to investigate.

Ignore the pain. The sounds of whirring vehicles above me spurred me into action; any of those could be any number more of Bella Miseria’s goons, on the hunt for Rosie’s precious doll.

Sitting up, I dusted myself off, hands moving next to my pockets, where the familiar grip of cold metal met my fingers. The stun gun wasn’t damaged. Thank God. My shoulder blades screamed in protest, but I ignored it as I hopped down onto the streets. I needed to find a place to hide. Rosie would know regardless, but that didn’t mean I needed more of Bella Miseria’s favorite sons on my tail.

I quickly navigated the moonlit streets of the Antioch Slums, their streets grafted into my memory after years of traversal. They really hadn’t changed that much. Rumors about the Slums flew around the high society of Jericho Tower like any other currency, but the whispered mentions of trained killers and power-hungry mob bosses hid the truth of the Slums’ hardened, but kind, people. People who, despite their own struggles, wouldn’t hesitate to help a desperate young woman fix the faulty cybernetics in her hand.

Memories of walking the streets of the Antioch and the savory smell of a cookout in Malak Park flashed through my mind. I ignored them.

A weak vibration emanated from under my knuckles. I grimaced at the signal from my implant-- Rosie had entered the slums, and far quicker than I expected. I’d delivered a shock to my implant before confronting her in Jericho Tower, but it only took a few minutes for the tracking system to reboot. I needed to find a place away from everyone, from the possibility of collateral damage — if Auntie Agatha found out I’d busted her pirated cable line, the old crone would never let me hear the end of it.

I ducked left into an unlit alleyway, disarming one of the nearby door’s electronic locks with practiced ease, and slipped inside, closing the door behind me.

I took quick stock of my surroundings, muddled as they were by dim street lights shining through tinted windows. A large stage, pierced by poles and defunct lights, across from a few plush seats and a large box equipped with microphones and tinted windows. A… Strip club? My eyebrows rose. Strip clubs were incredibly popular in the Tower, but the money required to maintain them made them prohibitive in Antioch. Nowadays, places like these were reserved for money laundering or illicit trading.

Well, at least it’ll be empty, I thought.

The vibration in my right hand intensified. Shit. She was getting closer. I needed to find a good ambush spot, and fast. Rosie’s biggest flaw was her overreliance on implants — if I could get close to her without her noticing, I’d be able to take her by surprise. At that point, one well-placed shock to the neck should be enough to pacify her.

I settled on hiding in the announcer’s box facing the stage. It offered me a view of the club and its entrance from a hidden vantage point. I crouched and reached down, hand poised to grab my stun gun. My implant vibrated again, the mounting force irritating beneath my skin. She knew what building I was in.

I bit down on my lip and pressed the stun gun down on my implant. It crackled with life, and my vision went white for a moment as the shock pulsed through my body.

The excessive voltage only remained for a few moments, to my relief. As my nerves calmed, I noticed that the implant had stopped vibrating. I let a slow exhale leave my body. I stretched my right hand, making sure I could still use it properly, before upping the voltage on my stun gun and switching it over to my right hand.

I heard the door open, and held my breath, the anxiety from mere minutes ago returning tenfold. The tapping of light feet echoed throughout the club, and I could see the blood-red glow of Rosie’s implants and circuits in the dark.

“Iiiiiiiiiiriiiiiiiiiiis,” she sang.

Her voice was beautiful. It was terrifying.

My heart ached at the sound of it.

“I know you’re here somewhere. Why don’t you come out and we can have a little chat?” The tapping of her shoes echoed once more as she began to move again, further into the club. “Bella Miseria wants you dead, of course, but you and I both know that she’s not long for this world.”

Her head swiveled around, bright green eyes cutting through the darkness. “Plus, I need to apologize for the way I treated you earlier. Will you let me do that, dear Iris?” She began to walk deeper into the strip club.

I had one chance to do this right. Staying low, I slipped out of the announcer’s box, staying directly behind her as I approached, to ensure she couldn't see me. The seconds seemed to stretch on into hours as I crept forward, offering a silent prayer to whoever was listening that the floorboards wouldn’t betray me.

BZZZZZZZZZZZZZT.

I froze as my right hand’s implant began vibrating, the stun gun buzzing along with it.

But-

Rosie’s left hand began emitting vibrations at the same frequency.

It's too soon-

I leapt forward, abandoning all thought of stealth, my mind flooded with raw desperation.

But I was too slow.

As if she’d known I’d been behind her all along, Rosie quickly reversed, her irises now bright scarlet and emotionless as a hammer fist crashed into my left shoulder. I felt an audible CRACK as the bone gave way to tempered steel and yelped in pain as I flew backward, crashing into a table before crumpling to the floor.

Rosie’s eyes reverted to their normal green, the empty gaze immediately overridden by concern as she rushed over. “No, no, no, this isn’t what I wanted to happen!” Her voice was frantic as she bent over me, fumbling to fix my shattered arm. “Iris, are you-”

I slammed the stun gun into her neck.

The shock shot across her implants, immediately overheating them. Her eyes glitched, changing from green, to red, to purple, to orange, before fizzling into a neutral grey as she passed out from the overload. She collapsed on top of me, her long red hair falling into my face. I grimaced as the adrenaline gave way to abject shame.

I turned her over with my remaining strength and searched her pockets. My fingers found the familiar shape of the locket, and I removed it gingerly.

My gait unsteady, I slowly exited the strip club, leaning against the door as it closed.

The heart-shaped locket glimmered in the pale moonlight, its silver chain hanging loosely between my fingers. My heart began to beat quicker as I opened it, and I felt a rush of relief as I beheld the picture inside.

“Oh, thank God,” I breathed, a slight hitch to my voice as my legs gave out underneath me.

Nestled inside the locket was a photo of us, laughing in one another’s embrace, Rosie’s three-piece suit matching my bridal dress perfectly. It was my last remaining memory of our union, miraculously untouched by the violence it had just witnessed. The joy in both our eyes was almost enough to bring me to tears.

I shut the locket and returned to my feet. Everything ached as I began to hobble toward Auntie Agatha’s home.

“I will save you, Rosie,” I muttered under my breath as I left. “I promise.”