HangYourSecrets

APEX

Kieran tensed up at Aura’s rebuke. Perhaps it had been simply what had run through his mind before he had spoken, or maybe it had been how quickly she had decided to dismiss him. His eyes narrowed and his lips pursed, but he did not respond.

How could she think things are so simple? He wondered. Thankfully, she seemed as eager to change the subject as he was, so he watched as she produced a paper and began to draw out what she knew about Loor’s house.

As she did, things seemed less hopeful. A house on the sea provided scant methods of escape. He weighed the various considerations in his mind--trying his best to extrapolate what he could from Aura’s drawing and descriptions. No sea escape could be feasibly pulled off without the express help of the AA--something he wasn’t even sure at this point if he wanted. Sure, he could ask for a boat to be placed, but tipping his hand too much would likely cause AA to try to crack down on this resistance far too early. Jeopardizing his deal with Aura and likely causing the resistance movement to slink back into the shadows in the process.

Not to mention Aura’s group would likely slaughter her in the process.

They needed a means of pleasing both sides without tipping the other of what was happening. AA needed to feel like progress was being made, and those in Atlantic needed to feel like they received valuable information. Enough to ensure they take bigger risks. Bigger leaps. Expose themselves to AA.

And when the two groups fought, perhaps then was the chance to escape via the chaos.

There was no honor in it, really. Kieran knew that and grew more and more uncomfortable with his prospects with each passing day. But what other choice did they have?

As 11 struck, he looked to Aura. “I’ll do what I can about the laptop. But you won’t have to do anything to Loor. That’s a fucking promise.”

***

Long after Aura left Kieran still found himself wandering the streets near The Square.

He simply couldn’t sleep. Perhaps it was the few hours he had received or the fact that the cold, concrete bunker he had found himself in earlier seemed constraining, but in either case, he doubted he’d get more than an hour or so. Not enough to be worth it.

Past curfew, Apex was almost entirely a ghost town.

In other districts, he may be more inclined to be careful outside. The more overzealous enforcers would likely tackle first and ask questions later, but here in The Square, he was well-known.

He walked past one or two enforcers per street--each giving a small nod of approval as they continued their rounds.

To see the town in this light was a privilege in and of itself. Kieran was free to roam the streets at night--not to live in fear of Apex itself swallowing you up in the darkness.

It was a luxury few had. Certainly not Aura, nor any of those she cared for back at home.

As he wandered, something seemed almost to bite at his mind. A pang sent him towards the nearest train. He approached the window; flashing his stamp to the night guard.

“I need to get to subsection A.”

“You’ll need more than that to get a ride at this hour,” the man behind the counter said. He gave a wry smile--he seemed to enjoy telling Kieran to get lost.

But that smile soon faded as Kieran produced his black seal, and spoke barely above a whisper:

“Monacle.”

***

As Kieran’s train approached subsection A, there was a noticeable difference in light.

Out here at night, aside from the city streets, many in the poorer districts relied on little more than candles and perhaps some solar hanging lights discovered from before the Blight. Yet here, luminescence poured through the windows of the train long before it came to a stop at Gateway Station.

Stepping out of the car, Kieran was immediately assaulted with stimuli.

While he was the only one aboard his station, he stood across the train platform from several loud, boisterous party-goers awaiting a train. Dressed to the nines, this group of about a dozen people shone with a sort of cleanliness Kieran had rarely seen before. Brilliantly groomed hair. Tailored clothes. Tight ties and black pumps. This group seemed to be a history book sprung to life.

It was the type of person Kieran was led to believe was commonplace before the Blight. Happy, smiling people, full of life. Expressing themselves in art. Working from computers, not with their hands. And perhaps prescient of all, drawing out the night with expensive meals and neon drinks.

”They made music. They made art. They made games for the rest of us to enjoy.”

Aura’s works banged through his head, but he quickly moved forward. There was work to do here.

He stepped off of the platform and into a crowd of people filling the road. His eyes burned by the lights out here--every street lamp was brilliantly cold in its electric burn. People seemed to mill about, paying little attention to Kieran, as he deftly navigated down the street and towards the sea.

As he moved, he brushed past people left and right--his nose assaulted by the chemical stench of their perfumes. And as he did so, he noticed they recoiled similarly to him--their noses lifted and their eyes averting. Perhaps they felt the same way about his scent as he about theirs.

Here, the retrograde buildings had been repaired well and built upon. Above him, colossuses of buildings rose seemingly into the infinite. The night sky was blotted out by the light, the structures, and the excess.

Was all the world this mad before the Blight?

He pressed on--still--moving towards what he had known to be the sea. After another half-hour and a tip from a local Enforcer, he was able to find it.

Loor’s estate.

The structure was massive, as Aura had said. Tall columns lined the front door. Luxurious cars lined the long and wooded driveway--strangely enough in subsection A, people used the roads for driving, not just for walking.

A party seemed to be going on here, even tonight. As Kieran walked alongside the road and towards the next home, he looked down and over to what seemed to be a basement.

And a door, underneath the long, wraparound deck that lined the back of the home.

Looking around, he could see that the others nearby--the wealth of subsection A--had been paying him little attention. In fact, aside from their dismissal at his bumping into them, he had noticed that very few people had even turned an eye his way.

At first, he thought perhaps it was due to the darkness of his clothes, hair, and beard. But the more he thought, the more he realized--he was clearly a working man. Part of the fabric of the town, but not a resident of it. He suddenly felt no more or less important than the bars they frequented, or the roads they stepped on as they walked past.

Perhaps he could use this to his own advantage.

Double-checking that no one looked his way, Kieran moved through the yard of the neighboring home and towards this back door. As he approached, he could see more clearly what it led to.

Little more than a few feet from the door, against the hill towards the front of the home, was a hatch.

Some sort of escape, it seemed.

He approached, trying his best not to attract the attention of those above him on the deck. As he moved under the deck, he was forced to blink several times.

Above him, the shuffling and raucous noise of the party was sifting dirt through the cracks of the deck and down towards him. Kieran tried to pay it no mind as he approached the hatch built into the side of the hill.

It opened easily and fairly silently--it seemed this hatch had been well-maintained. Inside, and with the help of a flashlight, Kieran continued on.

The path here was all concrete, lining the floors, walls, and ceiling. On the ground, small gaps in the flooring allowed stagnant water to flow down grates and likely towards the sea.

The path here curved a bit, first downward, then to the right and towards the south. As he continued, the sounds of the party faded into oblivion.

It was another ten minutes of walking before the pathway finally seemed to join with another. Here, a single bronze arrow, bolted into the concrete, pointed in one direction. The other way, Kieran assumed, was to another home.

He moved quickly now--as the pathway joined with other, and more bronze arrows led the way. Eventually, the path curved upward, and Kieran was faced with another familiar hatch.

He opened it carefully.

Out here, the air seemed to breathe a saltier tinge than before. His boots stepped out onto wet sand.

Behind him, flush with the hatch, was a tall, towering ridge, and behind it, Apex itself. Ahead was a short shoreline, and then the sea.

To the right seemed to be more shoreline, but to the left, just a few feet down, was a massive boardwalk extended out towards the sea. A retrograde construction by the looks of it, as the building atop dipped and sagged. In some places, the boardwalk had opened up a hole and sucked much of the building in with it.

But underneath, several motorized boats sat in waiting.

An escape.

***

Kieran had spent the rest of the night--as well as the following morning and afternoon--thinking on his plan. If he could just find a way to get Aura down through that basement, and over to the hatch, they were home free. He could easily sail back to Port Apex, where the port boys would easily cover for him and the two could hide in his own home. Perhaps not the wisest of places, but it was an easy out.

Perhaps, too easy. Finding a way to get out of that party was going to be the hard part.

He had spent much of the day, aside from his thoughts, attending to his appearance. He was able to find a good barber in The Square that had electric clippers, ensuring his beard and hair were well-trimmed. He bathed--twice, actually--first in the sea, then in the communal showers of the local Apex Enforcer precinct. A strange explanation to the men at first, but a necessary move--as Enforcers had access to the electric tools and perfumes he’d need to clean up and look the part.

As he had left, he pulled an Enforcer aside. He flashed his black seal, spoke his codework, and put in his request:

“I need to be on the guestlist for Gerald Loor’s party tonight. My number is #3B149. Put me down as security. And I’ll need their outfits as well.”

“Christ, you’re going in deep,” the Enforcer replied. “I can do it, but this must be a pretty big score for Apex to have you fucking around at Loor’s place.”

“It is, trust me,” Kieran had smirked back. “Fucking traitors won’t know what hit them.”

He felt a pang in his chest as he lied to the officer. He tried not to show it on his face.

“Just don’t fuck up, okay?” the enforcer continued as he jotted down Kieran’s request in a notebook. “No black seal is going to save you from Loor’s wrath if you cross him.”

***

Adorned in an all-black tuxedo (standard for Loor’s bodyguards), Kieran had taken a car of all rides to the party. After arriving in subsection A, he had been pulled aside by an Enforcer and given his change of clothes.

From there, he had been put into a larger car (perhaps they were called vans?) with the other bodyguards and driven to the party.

He exchanged pleasantries with the other bodyguards, who hardly knew each other to begin with. As it turned out, Loor hired various bodyguards for security. It was common for them not to know each other, much to Kieran’s benefit.

So he sat and waited--trying not to be nauseated by the incredibly fast speed of the car. It seemed also like a dream, being in one of these. How strange and how privileged people had been before the Blight.

Once they arrived, they were instructed by their driver to fan out--keep an eye out for all of those who looked out of place, and compare them to the guest lists they had been provided. Throughout his entire spiel, Kieran tried not to pick at the tie that threatened to choke him.

For someone who wanted to get to subsection A, it certainly hadn’t been pleasing for him thus far.

Entering the party, the opulence only seemed to continue. Kieran made for the bar and immediately got himself a simple drink. He downed it quickly to cool his nerves as he eyed the place up and down. Trying not to focus too heavily on the murals and marble that adorned the mansion, his eyes wandered for Aura.

As he looked, he thought through his plan: scope out the basement and identify the way out. Ensure Loor never figured out he had been duped. Ensure the Cause received either the laptop or something very valuable and don’t expect Aura of any wrongdoing. Ensure Apex felt like Kieran had gained valuable information on the Cause.

And above all, protect Aura.

It was a tall order, and everything needed to go write.

And almost as an affront to that immediate thought, he felt a cold drink pour down his front.

He looked down to see Aura--already wiping at his shirt, looking up and recognizing him.

She was beautiful.

He immediately felt bad that his first thought had been of her beauty, but it truly was the first thing that had crossed his mind. Her black dress and plum eyes shone a different side of Aura than the one that had kidnapped him just two days prior. But based on her frantic cleaning, it was clear that it was still Aura after all. He couldn’t help but smile at her as she tried fixing his shirt.

“You look beautiful,” he said in response to her, already blushing at his bluntness. “You cleaned up better than I did.”

He quickly continued on, speaking in a hushed tone after ensuring no one was nearby: “Any eyes on Loor?”

He wanted to blurt out much more of his plan--of the basement, the hatch, and the means to get her out of there, but first thing was first.

Loor, and that damned laptop.

APEX

Kieran’s chest panged at Aura’s response to his offer. Sure--he had felt a hair too protective in offering to be with her, but what else could he do?

It was true that his protection had to come with several caveats. For one, being seen with her at this party would likely be a death sentence for her and would completely give up the ghost of the operation. Two, there wasn’t much in the way he could do to protect her from the clear and present danger Gregor had placed her in through her alibi. He would have to improvise his way through bailing her out of that situation, and he had never been good at improvisation.

“I’ll learn what I can tomorrow about Pogo’s operation,” Kieran replied. “Loor’s people can probably get me that information and I’ll generate some excuse to be able to come out there.”

He watched empathetically as Aura pivoted to the bigger, laudier questions about life in Apex. His first instinct, as it had always had been, was to be dismissive. He prepared often-repeated answers to her questions. How Apex wasn’t an evil place--not at its core. That this was simply the system in which they had been given and it was one in which any complaints, disillusions, or rebellions were, in essence, fruitless.

You can’t swim against a waterfall.

But the more she spoke, the more he felt that tinge of idealism that he had felt before. His mind raced back as she spoke:

Kieran was little more than a baby when he was found on a cargo boat docked in Port Apex.

The Port Boys that took him in and showed him their ways had always assumed he hadn’t a clue what happened before that. To his parents.

But that wasn’t the case.

Kieran had memories--scant and fading, but there all the same--of the last moments he shared with his parents.

They had a farm further north and west than even Apex. Near where the sea would extend beyond oblivion. The rains here were strong--making the ground fertile enough for simple crops to grow. But generations upon generations had tilled this land down to it’s last gasp.

Kieran pictured what he could of his parents--his father’s strong arm wrapped around him. The touch of his mother’s dress as he pulled at it for attention. They explained what was happening to a boy who could do little more than say a few choice words.

He couldn’t picture their faces. No, not anymore. But here now, he could feel their pain as they told him to sit in a cargo box in the middle of the night. They gave him a doll made from discarded hay and rags sewn together by his mother.

And he never saw them again.

Kieran’s mind flashed back to Aura, and to her final question:

“Do you ever wonder what life would be like if Apex wasn’t the center of the universe?”

In truth, sometimes he did. And one time, he had acted.

When he was old enough to convince the sailors to let him aboard, Kieran had ridden one of the ships back to the land his parents had tilled. He had his doll about him--wrapped in the blanket that had been with him the right he had left them.

He stood on the sandy beaches of his childhood, directed to the farm by some of the other local farmers. He could see in their eyes that some of them recognized him still. They bore morose expressions at the sight of him. They would say little about his parents.

He stood in the blighted ashes of what had once been his home soon after. He dug through the rubble that had been a farmhouse. He found little more than sticks, pots, pans, and dirt.

How the home was destroyed, the other farmers wouldn’t say. But the story went that one morning, the farmers saw his parents headed west, into the mountains.

They would not be seen again.

Kieran had returned to Port Apex, and remained ever since.

These memories had passed him in an instant as Aura asked her question.

“I don’t know what’s out there, Aura,” he admitted. “I don’t know if anyone here knows. Anyone who’s left hasn’t come back, that’s for sure.”

He thought for a moment, then shifted gears. “Apex is all we have. It’s cruel, but it can be exploited. I don’t know what’s out past those mountains, but I do know that here we have a chance to live a better life if we play our cards right. It’s all I’ve ever done. If there was a way to change AA, to make things better, sure I’d try for it but... “

He looked down, then back up. “I just want to survive. Maybe once that’s done we can see about creating something better.”

APEX

Kieran eyed Aura and listened intently as she began to get into the gritty details of why they were there. He was looking for a tell--a glance to the side, a pause that lingers too long--anything that could give away any evidence that she was lying. He also thought back to his briefing, and the information he received.

But as she spoke, she gave no signs of deception--if anything, she seemed more despondent than ever. When she spoke of this Del character specifically, she seemed nearly desperate. Kieran made a mental note to clear this person from any AA scrutiny as a show of good faith as they continued to work together.

Santo, Kieran thought to himself as she said the name. It triggered something in him. He had once heard of a Santo causing a serious amount of damage to subsection A back in the day--which was particularly impressive, as most people even involved in Apex weren’t allowed there.

He wasn’t sure if he was getting Santo mixed up with some other freedom fighter, but if he recalled correctly, whoever it was that caused the massive explosion in subsection A was hanged and left to rot for months on the highest crane in Port Apex.

He was surprised to next hear Aura describe heading to sub A herself.

“You’re going to a party at Gerald Loor’s house?” Kieran asked, nearly cutting her off.

Loor was a big, big fucking deal to Kieran and just about anyone else within AA or AE. He had a reputation for cruelty--often enacted with very little regard for collateral and with a smirk that never left his face. He wasn’t machiavellian or anything like that--he was also known for his politician’s demeanor--but he was certainly one of the people that probably knew about Kieran and what he was up to regarding the Cause.

His mind raced as Aura continued to explain the point of the mission in place for the next day.

“That’s dangerous,” Kieran said. Then--thinking--continued on. “I mean--you know that, I know--but fuck, Aura. Gerald Loor’s laptop is going to be pretty fucking locked down. And it’s probably encrypted.”

He paused a moment, trying to read Aura’s face. He figured, since she hadn’t known the term for ‘laptop’, perhaps he should explain. “That folding computer--the laptop--it’s gonna be very hard to get the information off of it unless you know someone that’s good with computers, and I mean really good. I can’t do any of that shit myself.”

He thought for another moment. He needed to get in contact with Apex Authority directly--especially if the Cause was going to be stealing from Loor. They would want to know why Kieran did nothing to stop it. He made a mental note to travel directly to downtown the next day and talk to someone. Maybe even Loor himself.

He also thought it if was worth telling AA to wipe the computer, but that would immediately put Aura at risk. However, even if he asked AA not to, there was no telling what they would do outside of his wishes. He had to play his cards carefully--ensuring the Cause doesn’t suspect Aura, AA doesn’t prematurely ruin his plans, and Aura wasn’t in danger.

He found himself immediately surprised by that last thought. Being mindful of those involved collaterally was typically not his style. But as he saw Aura in front of him now, watching him--despondent about tomorrow's events--he truly felt as if he owed her for all of the help she’s been to him so far.

“I can learn more soon about the Cause, but maybe it’s better if I learn directly,” he thought aloud. “I can get to Loor’s house easily. I mean, fuck--I probably work for him and don’t even know it--but I can make sure you don’t...”

He trailed off. He didn’t even want to mention it.

“...I can make sure you get out of there with the laptop unscathed. But these must be some pretty rough restrictions if Gregor is willing to take this risk.”

He opted not to mention the idea of meeting up with AA directly--at least, not yet. This was a lot of information in a very short amount of time. Besides, he didn’t know what AA was planning for this party.

Or what they had in store for Atlantic.

APEX

Kieran couldn't help but flinch--just a little bit--as Aura snapped back in defense at his question. Perhaps he shouldn't have been too surprised--it was, in fact, a pretty direct and rude question.

Still, he composed himself and adjusted to match her in kind. Fine, he thought to himself. Let's do it this way.

He watched as her ale toss went awry, offering no pity on his face as she crumbled.

"Okay," he said, setting his ale down on the table between them. "No bullshit."

He recited, in austere detail, the top-level of what he knew. "Apex Enforcement knows of a terrorist apparatus rather simply as The Cause, gestating some time and becoming more and more violent to petty officers and under suspicion of conspiracy against the government. Known associates of The Cause are mononymic in nature. I have a few names. Gregor. Mae. Miranda. This Del you seem quite fond of. Locations too. But I'm going to tell you now no matter what agreement we come to everyone I listed will be investigated and very likely worse if we don't come to an agreement about who is involved, and how."

"So," he continued, straightening his back somewhat, "If Del isn't involved, I need to know why and how he became associated with The Cause so I can clear his name. And if you have any arrangements with The Cause--any information concerning their next moves--I need that too. We can build trust with AA by telling them in advance. If need be, they'll let The Cause continue with their plans while learning more about them. They're not looking to thwart one operation. They want the whole thing decimated, and they're willing to wait to ensure that happens."

APEX

Kieran watched as Aura ravaged her way through the food. In a strange sort of shame he felt for even watching, he turned away.

His eyes wandered downward at this own stomach.

He liked to think of food as a luxury, but the truth of the matter was that he was fed--well fed, in fact--and did not hunger much. Particularly these days. What had once been tight, weak abs had fleshed out significantly. Over the past two years, he noticed that he had put on a small amount of muscle--filling out his more lean build. He was not large by any means (at least horizontally), but he wasn't the rail he once was. Kieran thought to all of the meat he had been eating recently. He was sure it had contributed.

But as his eyes drifted back up to Aura, he could easily see the malnourishment. My god, they didn't have much in Atlantic, did they?

She slowly finished up and began to talk. "I'd like to ask for your escort."

"Of course, of course," came his hasty reply. Guilt seemed to drip from him more and more as he interacted with her. It was a strange mix of pity and respect he felt. As if he had lived his whole life a victim only to realize he had been the privileged the entire time.

Oh what it must have been to be in subsection A.

"I'm not sure where to start," he admitted. He forced his thoughts down. It was time for business, after all, and he definitely needed something from her. His eyes wandered to her lips, where they lingered for a moment. The sight of not-so-fresh blood made him grimace. What price was she already paying for sparing him? For coming here.

"I was given a dossier of names and locations. I'd show you but I burned it. It was too valuable to be left anywhere."

Kieran moved to sit across from her--his elbows resting on his knees as he learned it to speak. He went for a drumstick and chewed lightly on it. He swallowed, then spoke again: "I guess the best thing would be for you to tell me the basics. What the organization is. What they do. Who leads them."

He thought for a moment.

"But maybe we can do this another way."

He grabbed a stein of ale and sat back down. Perhaps this could feel less like an interrogation, and more like a conversation.

"I figure we have a little bit of acquainting to do, after last night. So I'll make a statement. If it's true about you, you drink. If it's not, I drink. And if we want to elaborate a little more on the subject, then we can go from there."

Kieran took a swig in a small effort to catch up to Aura. Then:

"Alright, I'll start. You took me to a family member's house last night."

He wondered if that was a good place to start, but it was late, and he didn't want to waste too much time. It was time to skip the pleasentries.

APEX

Kieran felt analyzed as he went through his proposed pitch. And it was fair, too, as he was doing something similar.

In Aura’s eyes, other than the clear exhaustion, he felt as if he saw someone more committed to survival than ideology. He had been trying to mentally figure her out all evening, but as he continued to look, the more he could see there was very little difference between the two of them. Two sides of the same coin.

The only difference being he had the upper hand here. So how long would it be before she gained it herself? In many ways, she already had it.

“Appreciate it,” he managed to mutter, caught off-guard by her movements. She had gone to untie him from the pole. Probably a terrible move, but at this point, the two of them were both exhausted. He doubted she wanted to chase him down any more than he wanted to run.

He thought for a moment about leaving in the night. It wouldn’t be too hard to snag his gun and vanish from her life entirely, but the more he played that out, the worse that scenario got. He would be well-known in Atlantic and completely unable to do anything for AA.

And getting on their bad side was the last thing he needed at the moment.

So, he curled up on the floor and closed his eyes, and was out like a rock not a few seconds later.

***

Kieran’s eyes shot open, then closed at the sound of Aura jolting awake. He froze himself; maintaining his breathing and trying his best to appear asleep.

More than once had port boys and other local troublemakers broke into his home in the middle of the night. He would always do the same--feign sleep, then launch out of bed--firing a few rounds strategically at the floor and chasing them out with little issue.

He doubted he needed to do something similar here. He felt tired--worn out by sleeping on the hard floor and struggling to get any real sleep, feeling the need to stay in attack mode more often than not.

But as he listened to Aura intently as she got up and prepared to leave, he didn’t perceive her as much more of a threat than anything else. If anything, they felt more like unwilling associates--two people on either side of a conflict, having to work through a circumstance that came about entirely by chance.

He wondered how this all would have played out if she hadn’t run into him last night. But it was too late for that now.

He next felt a boot against his arm and opened his eyes. Kieran almost chuckled at the sight of her from this angle, at what seemed like a very intentional way of making him feel insectile. But, he refrained from actually laughing. He didn’t feel like getting kicked in the head this morning.

He rose quickly and followed without a word.

As they continued to walk, what had initially felt like a long, awkward pause felt more comfortable. This part of the day was very much necessary, and at this point, the worry Aura would do anything other than lead him back home was completely gone.

As she led the way, he couldn’t help but continue to watch and analyze. Her gait was heavy and she moved quickly. It seemed she wasn’t as comfortable with the silence as he was. Still, Kieran couldn’t help but watch her long, black hair as it flowed behind her. He really admired the way she--

She turned quickly around, assumedly to assure he was still there.

He blushed just a bit, caught off-guard, and from them on, kept his eyes low and to the ground. Mentally, he chastised himself for staring and tried not to think about it further.

She stopped them near a guard tower he was familiar with--the sight of something he had known quickly led him to think of where he probably had spent the night. Still, that information seemed mostly useless in this moment.

“9:00PM,” Kieran repeated. In his mind, he made a list of what needed to be done. Who to pay off. How to get there. What to arrange.

”Bring food. Meat if you can get any. Ale works too.”

His mind stopped at that sentence. Kieran watched Aura’s eyes as they cast downward at the statement.

Was she embarrassed to ask for food?

He wondered how he hadn’t even considered it before. She was thin--sure--but that was no crime, nor much to really think about. His temperament shifted and he was sure it read on his face. He didn’t want to pity her, but asking for something as simple as food had shaken him somewhat.

“I’ll have it,” he said simply. “Not a problem.”

Next, they took hands. What began as a shake lingered perhaps too long as Kieran’s fingers grazed hers as he let her hand go.

”Please don’t fuck me over, Kieran.”

“I won’t,” came his simple reply. He took his things, walked a few steps, then took a small look back before continuing forward into the morning air.

***

He should have fucked her over. He really, really should have.

And he still could, too.

The thoughts pinged back and forth through Kieran’s exhausted mind as he waited in a long, tight line to talk to the railmaster.

Public transportation was exorbitantly expensive to many in the city. Kieran rode free--another perk of his position--but he still had to wait in quite the line to flash a stamp to be let past.

It had been a few hours since he and Aura split up, and he had had no rest in the interim. He had gone back to his home to shower and collect a few odds and ends, as well as clothes for himself and Aura (if she needed it) for the night. He had even laid down to rest, but sleep never came.

He slipped over to The Square and down into a network of vast, decaying tunnels to access the rail line. His mind raced across his tasks of the day. Bribe workers at the tunnels. Find out who runs Atlantic and get their insight on this fringe group Aura was a part of. And figure out who to pay off to get Aura off any hit list they had.

He took a few steps forward to a older woman--the railmaster for the day--and flashed a badge.

“You make triple what I do,” she spat out. “Would it kill you to pay?”

Kieran stammered through a rough apology and slipped past her, heading onto the train.

This morning had completely thrown him for a loop. His plan had been so simple before. How, he wasn’t sure what he really wanted.

The train shuttered and shifted to a slow start out of the station. With each warped piece of metal the crowded passengers bumped and shifted into each other. Kieran, with height on his side, held a hand to the ceiling of the train and wasn’t shifting much. But many other tossed and turned like a salad in here.

About halfway between Square Station and the entrance to subsection J, a standard AE patrol entered the car.

This particular patrol was a larger, fatter man--probably about 60--and a young hotshot who loosely swung a small steel bat just behind him. The man checked off the tickets while the hotshot continued to eye up people, looking for a fight.

Kieran rolled his eyes to the whole affair, showing off his stamp and receiving a gruff nod from the older man. The younger hotshot swung his metal bat a little too wide, and Kieran felt a painful smack against his right side.

“Fuckin’ watch it, would you?” Kieran popped off without thinking.

Immediately, the hotshot stabbed the front end of the metal rod into Kieran, knocking the wind out of him.

He doubled over, feeling skewered by the thick polished metal. Over the sound of his own pained gasps he heard others make a similar sound. His stomach churned, and he was barely able to turn from the hotshot before water Aura had given him dumped out onto the floor of the filthy card.

”Stop it!” yelped the older man, and the hotshot laughed. Kieran’s eyes rose in hatred as he stared up at the hotshot.

“Have anything more to add?” the hotshot asked. Kieran burned but said no more.

The hotshot and the old man eventually worked their way towards the end of the train car. Kieran watched as they went, and noticed two younger passengers eyeing each other as the two opened the door between the two cars. As the two passed through the threshold of the doors, Kieran could see past them several similar young men in the next car over--they looked over to the entering AE members, who in turn looked back towards Kieran.

Just as Kieran put together what was happening, the two young boys grabbed at the door. The hotshot looked to them, then quickly to Kieran--before the door slammed shut, sealing the old man and the hotshot into the next car.

Screams and lots of commotion immediately rang out, before several gunshots shook Kieran and those in this car. Still, no one screamed.

Everyone knew what has happening.

And just like that, the young boys opened the door, and Kieran looked down and into the next car to see no evidence of the old man or the hotshot.

They simply weren’t there.

***

Kieran made his way quickly to the entrance of subsection J, and found himself at the Maw.

The opening of these five caves, guarded minimally by wire fencing and just three AE members, very easily resembled the mouth of a beast. And with the hill behind the Maw covered in piles and piles of garbage, it seemed like Kieran was entering one of the most dangerous places in all of Apex.

It was fairly true, to be fair.

“Good morning,” he offered to the three guards, each hardly older than himself. After flashing his stamp, their demeanor softened dramatically.

“You’re a long way from Port Apex,” one of the guards said. She scratched at the back of her calf with a similar metal bat that the hotshot had carried. Kieran tried not to stare. “I have a feeling you need a favor.”

“So...I’ve got this friend,” he started, which immediately erupted laughter from the three guards. He smiled and played bashful as he described needing a private spot to ‘hang out’ with his friend Aura. It was a gross cover story, but he figured the guards would go easy on him if they thought he needed a secluded place to, well, sleep around.

The three guards joked casually with him, before promising to let anyone with the name “Aura” know to go down to tunnel three. They even loaned him the keys to a small outpost in the tunnel the AE wasn’t using--complete with electricity, a bathroom, and of course, a bed. They would also tell Aura which sign to look for and which door to knock.

In exchange, Kieran promised booze each time he visited, and more if he could manage. The experience was night and day from that he had had on the train. Apex Enforcement, so it seemed, was certainly a mixed bag from his perspective.

***

The rest of the day had been uneventful for Kieran. He had traveled back towards Atlantic--making sure only to use the train to get there and not to leave the transit station. He found a local AE member and made a small bribe--assuring that the two would meet the next day. He also thought of heading back over to the Square to talk with another contact about securing papers, but after nearly two days of no good sleep, he was more than ready to rest.

He traveled back into tunnel three and headed for the AE outpost--food, meat, and ale in hand.

In here, the walls seemed to leak a sort of black tar, and the air smelt of shit felt as thick as some sort of syrup. Kieran broke out into a sweat almost immediately and continued to sweat until he came upon the faintly glowing sign:

AE OUTPOST J-12 - AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY

Once he unlocked and opened the door, the blast of cool, thin air was nearly enough to make him cry.

The outpost, aside from the deary concrete walls, was immaculate.

Soft electric lighting lined the ceilings. The front door led past a small desk but another door led into the living quarters.

In here, a living room held several couches and other devices he didn’t even recognize. There was a kitchen, mostly stocked with non-perishable foods, and ready for use. There was a bathroom, a room with a billiard table, and of course, three bedrooms with easily movable single-person mattresses. There was also an armory, but with a door that required a separate key. No surprise there.

He moved into the kitchen and placed the food and ale into the refrigerator. He had used a fridge so little and thought of them as such a luxury item, he placed the items in carefully, unsure of how to use it.

How strange it was, he thought, that he was here now. Standing in an AE outpost that felt more like a luxury vacation house than a place of arms. How different they lived from him, that they could casually lend him such a place.

He next took a long, hot shower and examined his stomach as he did so. From his pelvis to his mid-abdomen was a large, splotchy bruise that still hurt like hell to touch. He washed it carefully and left the shower feeling cleaner than he had in years. He couldn’t remember the last hot shower he had had.

He dried himself carefully and sat down in the bed. Worn down and beyond the point of sleep deprivation, his body finally gave out, and he fell asleep on top of the covers of one of the many beds in the bunker-turned-outpost.

***

He was awoken by three sharp, loud knocks on the door.

His eyes shot up and he pulled himself from the bed.

“One moment,” he called out, dressing himself. He looked at the time.

Fuck, 9PM already? How long was I asleep?

He straightened out his hair and took a moment to breathe, before setting his demeanor and opening the door. He didn’t say a word until he had closed and locked the door behind her.

“I hope you found it alright,” he said. The strangeness of the situation was palpable in the air, so he avoided her gaze and moved straight to the kitchen.

“I grabbed some produce and meat. And ale of course. Help yourself, there’s enough for five,” he called back to her. He opened the refrigerator, pulled out a small barrel of ale and poured a healthy amount into a stein, before drinking deeply.

He worried he would need it tonight.

APEX

Kieran studied Aura closely as she talked; looking for any signs that wasn’t speaking honestly to him.

But, if her erratic response to this Del character was to be believed, she wasn’t necessarily great at obfuscation. He had to remind himself that not everyone was like him.

Not everyone was looking to lie and cheat every chance they had.

“Rat is a strong term…” Kieran started, then stopped. He thought for a moment. “But yes. I’d like for you to rat.”

He next listened to her demands.

The first was a simple request; anonymity. An easy sell to AA. Results mattered far more than loyalty to an organization that inherently bred distrust. He needed to deliver a less dangerous Atlantic and they wouldn’t care much about the details. Or, who had to die to ensure that eventuality for them. Kieran knew he wouldn’t throw Aura to the wolves.

Or at least, not unless it really came down to it.

The second request was an escape plan. Again. Another non-issue for him. A quick flash of the seal and he could get her past just about anyone. Hell, he could get her on the next boat headed north and off to whatever it was that existed beyond Apex--should anything of value exist out there at all. It was hard to know and even harder on the mind to wonder.

The third and final request was another easy sell. The two couldn’t be seen with each other so long as they collaborated. Kieran doubted this would be the last time he would be in Atlantic--far from it--but he knew that it was paramount he and her never interacted.

“I think we have a deal, then,” Kieran smiled. He loosened a bit, now more comfortable that he wasn’t going to die that night. He thought for a moment.

“I know where we’ll meet,” he said. “There’s a series of old retrograde tunnels on the southeast corner of Atlantic. I’m sure you’ve seen them.”

He had initially thought of asking her to meet him at his place, but had discarded that plan as quick as he had formed it. The idea of Aura being able to so easily rat him out to her compatriots wasn’t appealing, so he needed somewhere he knew somewhat well and remained neutral to both of them.

The tunnels had formerly housed settlements avoiding exposure to the blight, and before that, they had held massive roadways for the city--funneling in people from god knows where else in the world. Whatever was beyond the waters. Kieran thought of what it must have been like to ride one of these passive concrete passages.

But the bridges that had crossed the waters east of Apex had long since collapsed, leaving only the tunnels.

These days, the tunnels were mostly utilized for AA transport and other matters. But they had a reputation of being a place where Runners, AE members, and citizens could make deals and trades that Apex Authority probably wouldn’t condone. In many ways, they steered clear of the tunnels as a show of permissible understanding.

Kieran wondered how much of this was known to Aura. Regardless, he continued: “The tunnels are guarded by AE members and lead to subsection J. However, they’re easily bribed and I’ll make sure they are for us. We’ll meet there.”

Kieran took a second to think. Then: “If you tell me the name of your supervisor, I can work some things out about discreetly getting you away in the middle of the day. Otherwise, I’ll be sure to be there after dark and before curfew each night. Make your way to tunnel three and I’ll find you.”

“I’ll work on your papers, too,” he said. “It might take a few days, but it can be done. I know a guy in City Center who can help me out. I’ll see him tomorrow.”

“And speaking of,” he said, settling onto his pole, “it might be worth it to get some sleep.”

APEX

Kieran’s eyes locked onto Aura’s dark eyes, watching as she slowly unraveled.

He felt sorry for her, really.

And it wasn’t pitying he felt; in some way, it was similar to how he had been before he was a runner. Scavenging with the other port boys. Looked at as less of a human and more of a pest to be chased off when AA came around.

Now, he was the one empowered. And thinking of going back scared the shit out of him.

He loosened, somewhat, as he watched Aura run for air. He felt bad, in a strange way, for being so cold—for intimidating him. Which was particularly strange, as he found himself the captor in this situation. It was either empathy or a survival instinct that softened him somewhat, but regardless, he tried to relax. Well, as best he could.

”I won’t kill you,” she said between breaths. He made a sort of scoffing noise without thinking, more so out of incredulousness. It really was that tense of a situation, wasn’t it?

He eyed her quizzically, as she explained that this might have been a fun evening under different circumstances. For all of his experience and quick analyzing, he wasn’t able to get much of a read on her here.

As she continued, he found himself grimacing at her conflation between running and being an enforcer. It was true, in a way—and similarly, it disgusted him. The longer this went on, the worse he felt. His survival instincts were wearing off and he realized he had walked into a skirmish far more complex than he was giving it credit for. He had assumed a monolith of the rebels; and now he could see that really wasn’t the case.

If it was, he’d already be dead by now. The necessary killing of law enforcement to further the cause.

But here she was—lifting a pail to him. He drank deeply, as long as she allowed, and thanked her. She sat across from him, and the momentary silence between them was deafening.

She explained her position and asked him for advice, and he froze for a moment; considering all of his options.

The more he thought, the less he liked how he had started his meeting. Or this evening, for that matter.

With Aura—fuck it—he needed at least one person truly in his corner if he was to infiltrate this group. Might as well be as honest as he could be.

“If I were you, which I’m not,” Kieran started, thinking aloud, “and I were working with a sort of rebellion, which I’m not even sure if you are or not…and I captured me? Someone with authority in Apex? Shit…”

He didn’t finish the thought. He figured she could read his morose expression.

“I won’t report you,” Kieran admitted. Truthful. “I mean—you don’t know me, and I could be lying through my teeth, but for what it’s worth, I won’t. And I get the sense that you haven’t killed anyone before…” his voice wavered. A flood of memories hit him and he physically shook his head to try not to go down that path. “And believe me as much as you can, you don’t want to do that.”

Kieran sighed and paused—giving him one last out to avoid being honest. But that moment wasn’t very long.

He would give her some very good reasons not to trust him.

“I’ll come right out with it. I’m here to scout. To find people likely similar to those who had you in the streets tonight. I don’t know much. Some locations. Some names. Del. Gregor. Those sorts of things. I don’t know how well you know these people or how involved you are, but if I can convince AA I helped root out a rebellion, well…” He paused. “Well I’d be out of the docks, that’s for sure.”

He thought for a moment, then continued. “So, maybe we can build some trust. You know this area; you know the problem people. I figure the fewer instigators there are, the more likely they’ll leave Atlantic well enough alone and life in all of F will be better for everyone. There are more enforcers here than I’ve seen anywhere else in Apex and I think maybe fewer enforcer shootings would help reduce that number.”

He couldn’t read her face, but something told him suggesting taking down the rebellion she was clearly sympathetic towards wasn’t coming across well. Hopefully being honest didn’t fuck him over this time...

“Aura...” he continued. “I’m not pro or anti either side here. My loyalty to Apex only extends to my ability to survive. I’d like to see fewer killings and convince AA I helped do their dirty work, so I’m all ears on any suggestions that’ll lead me to that end. Because if I don’t do this for them...well you may as well shoot me now.”

APEX

Kieran continued to be accosted as he was held at gunpoint and continued to be pushed further and further from the town square. As she pushed him, Kieran made a note of every building, every street, and every inch of the area—until of course, she tossed a sweater over her head.

“Fucking really,” Kieran muttered, unsure and uncaring if she had heard the comment. Luckily, the smell wasn’t so bad, if it weren’t for the sweat that had already been dripping down his face. He continued to trudge forward through the humid, muddy night. He tried to keep some sense of his bearings and figured they had gone maybe a ten or so blocks before he heard her bang thrice on a door.

He listened intently to the conversation Aura shared with a third voice. This one gruff, uncaring but…rather familiar. He figured this could be a close friend, or possibly a relative. He was unsure and would be sure to figure that one out later. As for now he ran through the facts.

This was Aura; likely associated with the same group the others were. She was armed. He had heard gunshots. Likely this all would have been enough to get her arrested (assuming he survived the night) but that wasn’t his mission, was it?

He hated himself in some small way for thinking this way. He wasn’t a spy, for fuck’s sake—he was a runner, and his business was passing along shit and keeping a low profile.

Nothing about all of this seemed right. Apex Authority were no heroes. These so-called freedom fighters broke a strange peace and got others killed in their wake. The more he thought, the less he felt like picking any side in this horrid mess.

He expected blinding light when she removed the sweater from his head, but the dimness of the room was a simple sight to be acclimated to.

He locked eyes with her—looking down, of course, as she was several inches to a foot shorter—and could immediately spot something he was familiar with.

Fear.

He didn’t see a fearless terrorist. He saw someone terrified out of their fucking mind about what was going on. Which immediately lowered his guard and put him at ease. If he played his cards right, he might not be the real hostage here.

As she tossed clothes in his hands, she took his bag and was sure to kick it hard away from them—which immediately put him at ease. He had been particularly careful to burn all evidence of the current mission and keep the Black Seal on his person rather than in an easily-stolen bag. In there wasn’t much other than the usual ID papers and runner’s stamp.

He gave he a cold look; wondering if she was going to watch him change. He watched her eyes dart to the floor, before removing his clothes. He was glad to be out of them, really. What a sweaty mess he was at this point. He made a point to turn his back to her and straighten out his underwear—ensuring Aura’s eyes stayed away—and slipped the Black Seal from his trousers to his underwear. Uncomfortable indeed. He figured he would bet on her holding back on asking him to be completely naked. If she didn’t he figured he’d have to find a good way to lie.

He placed the rest of the clothes on him and was tied promptly to a pole. He looked away as Aura changed, and watched her dig through his things.

”So,” she sighed, crouching down in front of him. “A runner, huh? Why are you in F? What’s your name?”

He figured he’d tackle her questions one at a time. He made sure to make clear eye contact through the sweat dripping down his face. Fuck, it was hot in here.

“Yeah, a runner,” he said simply. “3B149, feel free to verify that on the sheet.” He straightened up against the pole; trying to ward off a pain growing his back. “I have a couple of clients take me this far and was back in town to collect. Sure, I’m not supposed to be in F, but hey; what were you up to after curfew?”

He always laughed the last half of his sentence; breaking into a smile. His captor was looking increasingly shaky and tense; not great when she was two guns on her. He figured he could lean into his recent deal with Teegan and Cale and could get them to verify his story to Aura if need be.

“I’m Kieran,” he smiled. “And I’m very much not looking to die tonight, so if we could work something out, I’m all ears.”

While he was miles from trusting Aura, particularly now, he was certainly hoping to make an ally of her, after all. He wasn't exactly sure of the benefits of the alternative, but it certainly wouldn't be good for him, would it?

APEX

Kieran’s eyes widened to some sort of large, granite surface.

Stone—polished by millions of years of erosion—bore some sort of strange, jagged shape upon it. As if carvings once etched into these walls had been torn and scarred by some great weapon.

Kieran found himself standing in a field, just about a half mile from this massive stone surface, and could scarely see the top of the massive mountain. As he looked to see where the foggy evening sky ended and the summit began, he could hear terrible noises from behind him.

He turned to see scores of men, women, and children—clawing and crawling their way towards him, or rather, towards the mountain itself. They pulled and pulled at the dirt between them, Kieran, and the mountain, but found it softer and softer in texture, until it resembled more of a muddy, crimson tide.

Kieran moved forward towards them, but found his boot was ankle-deep in the same red muck. The more he fought, the more he sank, and soon still did he stop moving.

But the people did not stop. They pulled and clawed and sunk deeper into the mud, until the last of them had sank beneath the crimson tide.

Only then did Kieran wake up.

***

The images in Kieran’s dreams stayed with him long after he had risen and traveled to meet Honeyman for his morning assignments. Red-stained faces. The mountain. The etchings.

He wasn’t a particularly religious or even symbolic man, and yet he still couldn’t shake an almost prophetic since from the images he saw. Everything about this week wasn’t adding up. Aura. The man shot dead in the street. The unrest growing in Atlantic. He had seen and done so many repugnant things but for some strange reason, thing had seemed to hit a turning point.

Honeyman’s stark tone at their meeting did little to assuage his feelings.

“You’ve been given a Recurring,” he nearly spat at Kieran at the onset of their meeting. He hadn’t even given him a warning. “I figure we shouldn’t drag this out longer than it needs to be.”

To say it was bad news to be given a Recurring would be a gross understatement. To the Runners, a Recurring task was one that often came right from the top; Apex Authority would often have some bone to pick with some revenant soul in some far away district that would need ‘silencing,’ or worse; espionage.

Recurrings, as they were called, deeply eroded the strange and fragile trust held between the Runners and the people they served. Recurrings where when the Runners were taken from their politically neutral positions and placed right into the thick of an ongoing and often existential crisis.

Fail to complete your Recurring, and disbarment was not out of the question. It wasn’t uncommon for one failed task such as this to sink a Runner back into the muck of the lower classes. And it wasn’t that Kieran or other Runners looked down towards those in Atlantic, or any of those subjugated by AA.

It was that being a Runner was the only way that most could find a way above the fray.

Still, there were benefits for completing these questionable tasks.

“I’ll open with the good news,” Honeyman continued. “At the end of this recurring you’ll be bumped to Subsection A.”

“Holy shit.”

“I know,” he continued. “I don’t even have full clearances for A. You lucky bastard.”

“Alright then,” Kieran anxiously cut in. “The bad news.”

Honeyman took a deep breath.

“…you need to embed yourself in an organization. Terrorist group, specifically. Out in Atlantic.”

Of. Fucking. Course.

Honeyman slipped over a dossier. “You’ll be in deep, as deep as you can be. AE officers in Atlantic won’t be briefed. Make the wrong moves and you’ll be killed with the rest of them. Which is why you’re being given this.”

Kieran looked down to see Honeyman slip a mahogany box across the table. He already knew what he would find inside; but that didn’t keep him from the smallest of gasps when he opened the box to see a Black Seal.

The Black Seal was the holy grail of immunity. Each seal was numbed, and should you show your seal and correctly state your number and a passcode, it could be verified by a ledger given to AE members each morning. The intricate seal was carved from wood unlike any that grew in the region. It was an elegant system to verify that your actions were official AA business.

Having a Black Seal meant no curfews. It meant immediate AE immunity. Access to government buildings, to records, to vehicles…there were few upper limits to what a Black Seal could get you into.

“I’m only authorized to say this one time, so be sure you hear me, K.” Honeyman said. “Your passcode is ’monacle.’”

Monacle, Kieran repeated in his head a few times. He was sure to remember it.

“You won’t be seeing me at our usual meetings anymore,” Honeyman said. “In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if you never see me again. Once you accomplish your mission and give up this organization, you’ll go straight to AA to inform them. From there, you’ll be transferred to Subsection A.”

“What if I don’t complete the Recurring?” Kieran asked.

“…goodbye, Kieran.”

***

That morning found Kieran studying every inch of his dossier.

In his makeshift living space, he held a small lantern up to bring illumination into his small storage container home. He sat on his bed, a musky mix of old tarps and string, and read each name closely.

From what he could gather, Apex Authority didn’t have a name for this organization, but only a list of locations and names ranked from most likely to least likely to be involved in foul play.

Locations he wasn’t familiar with, like a tavern or a slanted cottage on the edge of town. Names too, such as Miranda. Del. Gregor. All ranked on a spectrum of likely to be involved, with a few marked as possible leaders.

He studied for hours and hours, writing down short notes on his own sheet of paper, before finally feeling as if he had memorized all that he could.

Then, he walked outside, set the dossier into the lantern, and watched it burn.

For a mission as secretive as this, this paper was nothing but trouble.

He moved next to load his messenger bag with the essentials. A change of clothes. Money. A pistol and a dagger, in case he needed them.

He went to tell one of the dock boys to watch his shit in case he didn’t return that evening, and departed for Atlantic.

***

He arrived in the evening, as he had intended.

He had taken the long way to Atlantic, maneuvering north and nearly into the downtown district, before taking a train down into the main station within the subsection.

He ran though who he was over, and over, and over again. His name was Kieran. He was a Runner. These elements were true.

He was low on clients. He wanted to branch out and thought it was worth infringing on another Runner’s territory. That was the lie.

Telling Aura or any others this element would give them a sense of power over Kieran. It would hopefully lead them to trust him as they could easily betray him in turn. In reality, any Runner coming to accuse Kieran of invading their territory could easily be paid off by way of the Black Seal.

It wasn’t a perfect plan, or really much of a plan at all. But it was what he had.

He wandered his way through the streets, taking note of the street names and building names. This was the boring element of the job. Taking stock. Preparing. Learning. He would need to find an inn for the night, but for now, it was going to be a long night of walking.

As curfew approached, Kieran found himself stopped once or twice by AE officers. For them, he used his Runner’s stamp and talked his way out of their grasp. The fewer people he showed the Black Seal, the better. It was a last resort, as anyone looking in his direction may spot him with it. Who knows that they may do to him should they see it.

But as he continued to pace down the district as the final curfew tolled, he couldn’t help but begin to think on the day.

He had, without much hesitation at all, agreed to spy on these people. He would be asking for names. Bribing people. Likely sentencing people to their deaths.

He thought of the man crumpled in the street. He thought of his dream, and the men and women crawling in the muck. He thought of Aura.

If he had gotten this group captured and arrived in subsection A, what would he do?

He would be there—alone—doing what had always done. Survived.

Was that all he would ever do?

CRASH!

His thoughts were interrupted as he was thrown clean off his feet and down to the ground. He had been so engrossed in thought and in his paces, he hadn’t paying much attention to the loud pops that had echoed in the nights. Sounds that were clearly gunshots.

Nor did he notice the black figure sprinting towards him. Until, of course, it was already too late.

”FUCK!” He cried out as his side smashed into the asphalt. Luckily for him, his bag had stayed shut. His eyes moved next to the woman next to him.

“You shouldn’t go down there,” the woman huffed and puffed, “the officers…”

Wait—

“Aura?”

As he stood and recognized Aura, he briefly thought to his dossier. Her name hadn’t been on it, as far as he could remember.

But all too quickly, she pressed a gun into his stomach, and any doubts about her involvement dissipated.

He sprinted along, following her orders, sitting when she ordered him to sit. All the while, he tried to think of the person she had spoken to in the tavern the night before. Were they involved too?

Her actions had pushed him right back into his survival instincts, which now told him to follow her lead, learn more about whatever organization she’s a part of, and stab her in the back as soon as he could. Figuratively, if things played out well. Literally, if they didn’t. Now wasn’t the time for dream analysis and second-guessing the mission.

She had him stand again and led them away from the pursuing AE officers in the area. Only then did he decide to speak up.

“Aura, right?” he asked rhetorically. “I’m a Runner. I have a stamp. We can run and hide all night or you can let me tell the nearest guard you’re with me and I can take you wherever you need to go.”

He figured she wouldn’t take him up on his offer, of course. But trust had to start somewhere, and he hoped she would remember the incident with the man yesterday and believe his story.

And in his defense, he really was going to honor his word, if she would take that fucking pistol off of him.