FAVELA CITY
6:24 PM
Thorn darted down the alleyway, tripping over trash cans, plastic waste, and hissing cats. The roar of the revving engines bounced off the walls, and her heart pounded off her chest as mad and loud as the riders chasing her. They were near, right on her tail. She glanced back to face the headlights, the glare blinding her for a beat or two. Frack! There were at least five of them, all on motorcycles. She spun around, hurling a trash can in their direction.
Taking advantage of the distraction, she veered off to the left, jumping over a wrought-iron gate into a dimly lit backyard. It didn’t take long for the headlights to illuminate the place, the gate’s embellishments emerging as long shadows on the brick wall.
Her thigh burned, still recovering from yesterday’s injury. As for the hole in her torso, they had patched her up and injected her with so many drugs that she couldn’t feel the gash or even her entire abdomen. In fact, she was so numb she forgot to hide her devilish face as she materialized in Compiz. Huge mistake! Now, they chased her to put her head on a spike.
She couldn’t sprint for much longer. Taking advantage of the light, she scanned the small square space, looking for an exit plan. Around her, brick walls covered by poster ads—sports cars, whitening toothpaste, plastic surgery—an endless display of consumerism. Just beside it, a spray-painted revolution. Words from a different time and another world: JOBS FOR HUMANS, NOT BOTS. If only they knew the entire world was a bot.
Compiz was familiar. It was the world she’d been raised in. The world the Gods had set out to fix and instead they had swept the dirt under the rug away from the eyes of the privileged Earthlings. It was all there: the pollution, the greed, and the idolization of the machine in all its forms. It was the relentless chase for profit and efficiency that had brought the world to its knees. All there. As real as before. Alive and well in Shadow’s worlds.
She hated their God complex. Everything about it. They hadn’t asked for permission. They didn’t consult with the people of the world. Arrogant and unhinged, they manipulated the masses to submit to their machine. It was large-scale indoctrination powered by story and technology. Frackers!
She looked up to the windows above the revolutionary words, and within seconds, she found the hope she needed. Her eyes locked onto the fire escape ladder dangling several feet above her head. She took a few steps back, building up momentum to jump. You can do this. Looking back, she saw them. The riders, still wearing their helmets, jumped over the gate. Taking a deep breath, she propelled her body into the air, legs and arms and fingers extending toward her prize.
Thorn’s hands gripped the bottom bar of the ladder, and she pulled herself up, legs kicking out behind to build momentum. Her arms and back muscles strained, bearing the weight of her entire body. She loved it. She loved everything about it. The race against time. The reliance on her bodies’ abilities. The game of cat and mouse that kept her on her toes. They didn’t stand a chance against her. She was faster, smarter, and she wasn’t afraid to die. Also, she got 'Running from Peril' certified from Domiz Community College. Take that, bikers!
Shots were fired, and for a moment, she regretted her thoughts as a bullet scraped her shoulder, stinging like hell. Grabbing onto the ladder, she kicked the window with both legs. Her injured abs burned, bearing the brunt of the work. Stubbornly, the window remained shut. Another shot, some glass shattering close to her face and missing her eye by a cigar’s breadth. She kicked again and again and this time the window doors slammed open and she jumped, elbows and head first, dodging the bullets and whatever was that thing flying in her direction.
Relentlessly pursuing her, the drone unleashed an electric charge before she could even find her footing. It coursed violently through her. Every nerve screamed with the intensity of the shock. Just as she began to collapse, Sibyl appeared. With a swift motion of zir hand, the drone was hurtled against a wall.
“Bitch, you could've done that earlier,” Thorn spat.
“The drone's camera was focused on you, live streaming your every move. I had to wait for the electric shock to disable its feed.”
Thorn raised her head, leaning on her elbows. “Oh, how considerate! Next time, can you please send me a 'you're about to be electrocuted' notification? Just to keep things interesting.”
Sibyl extended zir hand to help her up. But Thorn, driven by defiance, leapt to her feet unassisted, instantly regretting it as pain shot up from below her ribs. The Holizien biosealant was deteriorating with her physical exertions.
Sibyl's gaze sharpened and a sly grin played on zir lips. Thorn recognized she’d been baited into a dare once again. The app knew how to push all her buttons and could predict every move.
Their attention snapped to the exit. Without another word, they bolted.
“I’m here to retrieve a package,” Thorn said, her voice sounding strange as she addressed the omnipresent, all-knowing app. She quickly shook off the feeling, focusing on their escape. They took the main stairway, diverting left to avoid the open backyard.
Sibyl towered over Thorn as she spoke, “There’s a school bus awaiting below. Inside, you'll find weapons, food, clothing, and a book. The pickup and drop-off points are pre-set in the vehicle's navigation system.”
“I don’t do self-driving,” Thorn retorted as they burst onto the main street.
“Good!” Sibyl gestured to the bus parked across the road.
Thorn shook her head. “Really, a school bus? Why not something inconspicuous like a motorcycle?”
“You're escorting them to Pluriz.”
“I’m not a chauffeur! Who exactly am I escorting?”
“You'll find out soon. Shadow asks permission to override your privacy settings. They want to see what you see and communicate real time.”
Thorn searched her pockets for a cigar. “They? Why don’t you tell ‘them’ to hold their breaths and wait by the phone?”
Sibyl chuckled. “Shadow sure has a type.” A lit cigar materialized in zir hand and zie handed it over to Thorn, raising a brow. “If you drive through the night, you should arrive in 13 hours. Many will be searching for them, and a lot is at stake. Shadow thinks Storm will take over from there, but don’t count on it. Also, be wary of pretty lights.”
Thorn's confusion deepened. “What are you hinting at?”
With a teasing glint in zir eyes, Sibyl responded, “Oh! And, the mask will help you cover that famous face of yours,” before disappearing.
Stepping onto the bus, Thorn's eyes landed on a book in the first passenger seat: Pregnancy and Birth for Dummies. It was just beside a mask of the devil and some horns.
What the frack? When she was young, she’d always felt the universe mocked her. Now she was sure of it.