Despite being a pain in the ass, snow is beautiful.

  There’s more of it here than in downtown proper, the cul-de-sac having one big mound at its center. There’s a bunch of kids playing a game of king of the hill. Tossing snow and each other, giggling and screaming as they roll down the mass of white. Getting back up to throw balls of snow at the reigning monarch.

  They’re not that much younger than her, perhaps eleven or twelve.

  Alex watches as a boy lobs a ball straight into the eye of a brown haired girl. The girl yelps and falls off mount snow with altogether too much dramatics. She hits the asphalt and holds a hand up to the sky as though she were reaching out to god. Alex can’t help but roll her eyes at the sight.

  She does get a slight chuckle when the group turns on the boy and absolutely buries him in snow.

  “It’s nice, isn’t it?” says a gravelly voice from behind her. “Don’t get to see a sight like this much do you little biker?”

  Alex turns her head slightly to the side and locks eyes with a man of pure black irises. She can only make out his pupils because of the white outline surrounding them. He’s wearing a wife beater in the middle of winter, alongside a pair of lame ass jeans.

  Alex raises a brow. “You not cold in that? It’s like negative twenty right now.”

  “I got an internal heating system,” he shrugs.

  “Seems like a waste of chrome when you could wear a jacket instead, gangoon.”

  “It has other perks.”

  “Like what?”

  “Speak no secrets, tell no lies.”

  “You could’ve found a less poetic way to tell me to fuck off with my prying, Kreig.”

  Kreig lets loose a wide smile. “So you must be the courier. I was wondering, considering your kind aren’t the most welcome on the Dead Angel’s turf.”

  “We’re not at war so does it really matter?”

  “It does kid, at least for the Road.”

  “Fair, I guess.”

  The man nods and looks back at the kids with thumbs tucked into his pockets. Alex internally shrugs and joins him, he doesn’t want to get this job over quickly that’s his prerogative. The kids have formed teams, with the strong ones being their frontline wrestlers while everyone else is backline snow throwers.

  They’re sloppy, but Alex doubts she could do any better. She’s never wrestled before, for obvious reasons, and hasn’t had the pleasure to test her arm in a proper snowball fight. She’s getting better though, she can manage walking like a normal person for at least a few minutes before she has to stop.

  Eventually the children stop their fun, heading inside one of the houses. Presumably to fill their bellies with hot chocolate or some other asinine shit. The man turns back to her and she does the same.

  “So, the goods?” he asks.

  Alex nods, pulling out a small bag from an interior pocket of her coat. She hands it to the man without a worry that he’s the one. Rashid had the foresight to provide pictures.

  He takes the bag gingerly, opening it and retrieving a brain drive. He gives a toothy smile as he slides it into the port on his neck. His eyes dilate and he just stands there looking into space. Alex doesn’t have a brain drive port, not all that interested in testing her tolerance with the deceptively small enhancement.

  Eventually the white borders of his pupils contract and he takes out the drive from his neck. “Good. This is just what I was looking for, give Rashid my regards won’t you?”

  “Of course.”

  Kreig gives her a smile and goes on his merry way. Alex watches as he exits the cul-de-sac with bated breath. Nothing happens, no surprise gangers, no sniper to shoot her down. Maybe she was a touch too paranoid, but can you really blame her? Courier jobs aren’t exactly safe, and this is her first. Eventually she exits the cul-de-sac herself and heads for the bus stop. It’s about a half hour away, so she wasn’t able to maintain a normal stride for the whole of it. Still, she gets there in time to catch the bus.

  She takes a seat, it’s the afternoon and she’s not in the city so public transport isn’t something of violence. Getting her was a different story though. Alex sighs, her first job complete. She feels…weird. Like a mix of elation and guilt bundled together like salted water.

  She went behind Baba’s back for this. Told him she was just going to take a longer walk. It hurts to lie, it really does. But Baba wouldn’t have let her take a job until she were some kind of olympian, and that isn’t happening anytime soon, not at all.

  Means she doesn’t get his contacts but that’s fine. She’s perfectly capable of making a few of her own.

  Alex reaches her locality and immediately connects her interface, sending a call request to her new fixer. He takes about three seconds to pick up.

  “Hello!” a boisterous Rashid says. “I’m guessing that since you’re still alive you completed the job?”

  Alex scoffs. “You wouldn’t send AlHayig’s daughter on something actually dangerous. At least not till I’ve proven myself.”

  “You never know girlie, I’ve got plenty enough influence where your Baba wouldn’t be able to touch me,” Rashid says.

  “Yeah, maybe. But it would be a pain in the ass.”

  “True.”

  “So you got anything else for me? This should prove I’m good for more.”

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  “Also true, tell you what. I’ve got a…nuisance down a few blocks from Raisin. You got the balls to deal with him? It’s nothing dangerous.”

  Alex pauses for a moment, but only a moment. “Yeah, send me the deets.”

  “Good, good.”

  Alex walks past an invisible border and instantly her system is alone in a world of nothing. She lets out a deep exhale and keeps walking. The streets are empty between polite society and where she’s going.

  Alex steps past the invisible border. Instantly her neural link disconnects, alone in a sea of nothing. She lets out a shaky breath and keeps walking. The streets between polite society and where she’s going aren’t all that active, but there are a few pedestrians and cars. Most ignore her, a few give her confused looks when staring into her eyes. Alex turns of the safety of the gun in her jacket pocket, just in case. Torrun is a place of lawlessness, even more so than the other sectors. Anything can happen here.

  She just keeps walking.

  Her boots crunch under so much snow. The cold echoing her vulnerability. She’s relying on her gang affiliation to scare anyone off but she isn’t exactly intimidating. Going without the constant connection only heightens her anxiety. There’s something there, in the back of her mind, but she doesn’t have permission to interface with it.

  Alex doesn’t have a map, those are as expensive as they are rare. So she has to reference the contract she’s downloaded to even know where the fuck she’s going.

  It’s an interesting experience, not one she’d ever want to repeat but interesting. Torrun is completely isolated, both in terms of the net and locality. The local gang worked hard to make it this way, becoming the de facto government of a whole sector. Alex only knows their name, which is an oversight now that she thinks about it. Have to do better for the next job.

  There aren’t many chromed fools on the streets. The ones that are though? They have the good shit. She can barely tell it’s metal from a distance, and that’s saying a lot.

  Their eyes are pure white. She can’t even see their irises, and their teeth are cartoonishly sharp. Otherwise they each have a distinct look. Flared mohawks, white chains the size of her hand that almost reach their knees, a myriad of tattoos covering faces and arms. One of them had a jacket that glowed neon. Expensive that, also tells her he’s confident in not getting robbed.

  Or he’s an idiot, either works.

  Eventually she’s stepping up old metal stairs and makes her way in front of a door, gathering her wits as she goes to knock. This is one of those handle doors, real old school but when most of the population can’t interface there’s a need for the decrepit.

  She knocks.

  She waits.

  There’s some shuffling she can hear on the other side. Then footsteps that land heavy make their way to the door. Alex takes a deep breath as she places a finger on the trigger.

  The handle turns, and the door opens.

  A shirtless man with many animal tattoos stares her down in the doorway. She matches his gaze and raises the gun in her pocket before shooting him right in the balls.

  “OH FUCK,” the man screams as he falls to the floor, clutching at his pearls. Alex stands over him and presses the gun to his forehead.

  “Where’s the necklace gangoon?”

  “FUCK FUCK, YOU SHOT MY BALLS!”

  Alex grunts and points her gun down, shooting him in the stomach twice before bringing it back to his face. He lets out a whine of pain before Alex presses the gun back to his face.

  “Where. Is. It?”

  “In the night stand next to my bed! Top drawer!”

  Alex grunts and steps to the side, walking over to what she assumes is the bedroom. Her assumption was correct! How lucky, she should consider a career in gambling. Nah, she prefers this.

  She makes her way to the nightstand, opens up a drawer, and there it is in all its glory. A pure gold necklace with a gem that reflects so many colors. Rashid told her what it was, but she can’t be bothered to remember.

  She takes the necklace, holds it in front of her to admire it for a few more moments, then places it into her pocket. Now she just has to kill the-

  A bat with nails crashes into her skull and sends her sprawling to the ground. Alex takes to long to figure out what the fuck is going on before her own gun is pressed to her temple.

  “Fuck you, crazy bitch.”

  Then he pulls the trigger.

  Damian clutches at his precious balls as he limps over to the telephone. Apparently inner city fools can make calls from their fucking eyes, isn’t that a wonder? He doesn’t really give a damn right now, he needs to get into contact with someone from Psycho Rain.

  Preferably a maestro as well but he’s not sure he can afford new balls.

  Gonna have to trade in the necklace sooner than he thought. Fucking idiot kid, she should’ve known not to leave him alone. Must’ve been new to merc life. Shame that he had to put her down but he’s pretty sure she would’ve ended him.

  He’s not a fan of dying.

  Eventually he reaches the phone. Dialing in the number he waits.

  Fuck. He killed a kid.

  He didn’t have a choice, she didn’t give him a choice. Must’ve been on contract or some shit. What kind of asshole fixer sends a child here of all places?

  Shouldn’t be thinking about that. His priority should be to get someone else here, so that he doesn’t fucking bleed to death. He’s not keen on joining the kid with wherever her soul went. The soul exists right? It has to.

  He didn’t just end a child. He refuses to believe that the girl has turned to nothing.

  The phone rings and he waits. Cable’s a bitch but it’s all he’s ever known. The gang isn’t exactly keen on…interference with their operations. Easiest way to prevent that is to create a closed network where only a few have access.

  Someone picks up the line.

  “Hello?” Says a voice on the other side.

  “Hey man, it’s Damian. The guy on fifteenth and twenty. I need some hands over here…I…I killed a kid.”

  The line is silent for a moment. “Alright, who’s kid?”

  “No idea, some idiot from The Road I think. Look, could you bring a medic here too? She shot me up pretty good.” Damian says

  “Sure sure, that’ll cost you though.”

  “Of course man, I’m good for it.”

  “Alri-”

  Damian doesn’t hear the last bit, his head is too busy crashing against the floor you see. He looks up and sees the girl.

  She’s alive? He blinks, but she’s still there. Alongside a big ass hole in her head. She has his fucking bat.

  Crimson eye’s dig into his soul as the bludgeon crashes into his skull. Damian blinks again, trying to reorient himself. The bat comes down but this time it collides with his arms as he has just enough mental capacity to bring them over his face.

  They bleed from the nails.

  Speaking of, his head’s bleeding isn’t it? That’s not good.

  Probably.

  Ahhhh, fuck. He’s going to die isn’t he? Damian looks over to his right and finds a red and black handgun not a metre away. He blinks for a third time, he’s been doing that a lot lately hasn’t he? Well, blinking is good for the eyes. At least organic ones, which his still are.

  Another blow lands on his forearms.

  Damian brings up his leg and kicks her in the crotch. She yelps and the man has just enough time to roll and get the gun. He points it up at the kid and fires.

  The first bullet meets her stomach, while the second and third are more up towards her lungs. He misses a shot trying to hit her head and refocuses on her body, trying to get her in the heart. Four more bullets and-

  The gun clicks empty.

  The girl is still fucking standing.

  Alex coughs out a loogie of blood and smiles with bloodied teeth. “Nice try cunt.”

  Then she brings the bat down onto the man's face once more.