He looked at her groggily. “My place?”
“Yes, how far is it?”
“I don’t live in the city.”
“What? I don’t understand.”
He met her eyes. “I come from outside the city.”
“Outside the city?” She raised her eyebrows.
He managed a smile. “Outside the city.”
“But . . . I’ve heard that you can’t survive out there.”
“That’s not far from the truth. It’s a nightmare.”
“How long have you lived out there?”
“My whole life. I was born there. And that’s where we have to go.”
Her mouth fell open. “I can’t . . .”
“No choice. You’ve been marked. I have to get this to my people.” He placed his hand on the satchel where he’d hidden his stolen prize.
“How far is it to the edge of the city?”
“A couple miles or so.”
“Which way?” she whispered.
He pointed vaguely west, so she dragged him in that direction. She looked at him as they walked, too afraid to stop. A deep gash along his temple was already turning purple and red. Blood streamed down his neck, soaking his sleeve and the back of his shirt.
“Can’t seem to focus,” he mumbled.
She ripped off a sleeve from her shirt and pressed it against the wound. “Can you hold that there?”
He tried to focus on her, though his eyes wandered. “I’ll try.”
She readjusted his arm over her shoulder as she continued to hurry down the dark alleys. A few times they had to cross over the main streets, the orange lights gleaming down on them. She felt exposed and terrified, hastening to escape into the shadows.
She lugged him on for what felt like an hour, Rowan half awake and stumbling. “My head . . .” Progress was agonizingly slow.
He almost fell, but she caught him. “You’re going to have to dump me,” he slurred.
“No.”
“Those Repurposers won’t be out long.”
“No way.”
Then they heard footsteps behind them. They’d caught up, closing in fast.
A blinding light flashed down the alley. Rowan shoved her away with unexpected force. She stumbled in the dark, crashing to her knees.
The weapon fired again, and she saw Rowan light up, the snaking current enveloping his body. He gritted his teeth and went down, sprawling onto the asphalt.
She started toward him, but he waved her away. The Repurposers raced forward, now only feet away, but they hadn’t seen her. She crawled back as they hit Rowan with another burst of energy.
Staying low, she crept to a nearby corner and crouched in the darkness. Damn it, she thought. He had the gun. It was probably fried. The two Repurposers had replaced their weapons before resuming their pursuit.
“Hit him again,” Broken Nose said. “I’ve had it with this guy. He’s dead.” In the sickly pale glow of the orange light, she could just make out Broken Nose’s pale face slick with sweat.
They stood over Rowan’s prone body. The short one glanced around. “Any sign of her?”
Broken Nose peered into the darkness. “We’ll find her. Let’s deal with him first. Got to get him to lie still.” From inside his long jacket, he pulled out the same gleaming tool they’d used on her. As the short man held down Rowan’s shoulders, a flicker of sick pleasure turned up the corners of the Repurposers’ mouths.
Broken Nose leaned over Rowan, starting up the blades on the gleaming tool. As the man lowered it to Rowan’s head, H124 looked around for anything she could use. Some fifty feet away in the gloom lay a pile of rusted rebar and an ancient sawhorse.
She knew she couldn’t reach them in time. The tool would have bitten through his skull by then. Instead she began to run back toward the rebar, shouting, “Hey!”
The two Repurposers looked up. As her hand closed around the heftiest piece of rusted metal she could find, she whirled around.
The two men had left Rowan, chasing her instead.
“That’s her!” cried Broken Nose.
“We can deliver them both!” the other said eagerly.
She ran down a side alley, doubling back on them. Once out of sight, she ran back for Rowan at a crouch. Just as she was almost on him, Broken Nose cut her off. “Going somewhere?”
She gripped the rebar tightly. He reached for his weapon, leering down at her. She steeled herself, then swung with everything in her. The metal connected with the side of his temple with a sickening crunch. He crumpled to the ground, a heap of loose bones. She pivoted, facing the second Repurposer. He looked down at his fallen comrade. “What have you done?” he shouted, eyebrows knitted together
She wanted to reach for Broken Nose’s weapon, but she knew the other would fire before she had the chance.
She started back as he circled her, sizing her up. As he took aim, she dove to the ground and rolled, cracking him in the knee with the rebar.
He screamed in agony, toppling to the ground. He rocked back and forth, grabbing his knee, eyes squeezed shut. She raced forward, grabbing the gun off Broken Nose. She shot them both and snatched up the gleaming tool.
Rowan stirred with a groan.
She kneeled over him, finding him barely conscious. She grabbed his arm. “We have to get out of here!”
Over her shoulder, one of the men stirred, but he didn’t get up. “C’mon!” She hefted Rowan’s arm around her shoulders and twined her other one around his waist. Heaving him to his feet, she supported his full weight. He moaned, bringing a hand to his head.
“What the hell . . . ?”
Behind her the short man moved, fingers grasping the pavement.
Rowan came around a little more, taking some of his weight off her. She spun him around, weapon at the ready. She hit both their assailants again. They skittered on the pavement.
Why wasn’t the weapon knocking them out? She looked at it to see if it had some kind of intensity setting, but couldn’t find anything. It fizzled, the acrid stench of burning circuits billowing up. It was fried. She tucked it into her bag in case it could be repaired later.
She
