Celeste tossed and turned throughout the night, tormented by the sounds of what she’d at first thought were thunder. But at some point, she realized that claps of thunder couldn’t be packed so close together, and usually weren’t so sharp. These sounds were like needles piercing her eardrums.

Gunshots.

What sleep she managed to get was far from restful. The small part of her mind that could still form coherent thought determined that she’d stay in bed, since her shift didn’t start until the evening anyway. 

And her plan would’ve worked, if not for the intense hunger cramps in her stomach.

Giving up her quest for rest, she groaned, rolled out of bed, and stumbled into the bathroom to freshen up. She got dressed and checked the map on her phone, looking for local places to eat. Cheap local places, because she didn’t get paid until next week and wasn’t exactly looking forward to scraping the very bottom of her bank account.

She slipped into a pair of dark tennis shoes, double-checked that she had her apartment key, and stepped out into the hall.

Immediately, the smell of cigarette smoke slapped her in the face. The cloud was thicker than a blanket. She couldn’t see beyond it. Celeste beat at the cloud with her hand before it could choke her —

— and felt something snatch her by the throat. Fingers dug in, wrapping around her windpipe as a powerful force threw her against the wall, knocking out what little wind she had left.

Her head spun. Her mind conjured up visions of yellow-eyed demons glaring at her within the smoky hallway. Strands of long, platinum-blue hair brushed against her cheek.

“Who the fuck are you?” a strong, feminine voice demanded. “Where’s Ashleigh?”

“I…” Celeste couldn’t speak. She slapped at the woman’s hand, but it was like slapping a steel pole. There was no flesh or bone there, and all she managed to do was make her hand go numb. 

“Answer me,” the woman seethed, tightening her grip, “or I’ll crush your throat like a fucking grape.”

“Don’t…know…who that is…”

“Bullshit!”

“Haven’t…seen her…”

So this is how I die. I never even made it to the Black Cat. Not even 24 hours in the city. 

And then the steel wrapped around her windpipe retracted. Celeste breathed in smoke and air all at once and doubled over, coughing in pain. Her forehead nearly touched the woman’s boot.

Celeste wanted to glare up at her, bare her teeth like an angry lioness and demand to know who she thought she was. But tears ran down her face instead, and her lower lip quivered. She wasn’t a bold lioness, but a lost little cub.

The blue-haired woman was pale and lithe, dressed in an off-the-shoulder shirt with a swirly design and band name Celeste didn’t recognize. 

“Sorry about that,” the woman said, and brought the heel of her boot down on the cigarette she’d dropped. 

“Sorry?” Celeste snapped. Or maybe she rasped it. Her ears were still ringing from when she’d been slammed against the wall. Trying to speak felt like trying to puke up razor blades.

The woman glared at her and folded her arms. Her left arm was completely mechanical. 

“Yeah, sorry,” the woman repeated. “What, you want a written apology?” 

Celeste rose and leaned against the wall for support. She caressed the sore spot on her throat. It was tender to the touch. 

The woman watched her for a long while. Her hard eyes, which were golden, began to soften. 

“What were you doing in there?”

“Living.” Celeste coughed again and waved some of the smoke away. “This is my apartment!”

“Well then, you must have just moved in. Was looking for the previous tenant, Ashleigh. Thought maybe you were a bodyguard or something.” The woman looked her up and down and smirked. “Couldn’t have been more wrong. Plus, you said her, not him, so I figured you weren’t a liar. Just ignorant.” 

The woman reached into her pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. “Smoke?” she asked. Now her tone was as soft as a marshmallow, and it was clear that this was her form of apology.

Celeste waved it away. “I don’t smoke.”

“Hm. You should check your room for cameras and stuff, by the way. Ashleigh wasn’t the type of person you invited into your personal space, and he liked to screw people over. Data-scraper and voyeur. Baaad combination.”

Celeste’s hairs stood on end. She never thought she’d see the day where she was thankful she hadn’t taken a shower. “I’ll…I’ll do that, thanks. Um, mind if I ask about your arm? And eyes?”

The woman took a long drag on her cigarette. Her eyes widened in surprise. And then she grinned from ear-to-ear. 

“Oh, shit. Shit!” she laughed. “You’re new to the city, aren’t you?”

Celeste smiled sheepishly. “Just got here last night. Never seen a cyborg before.”

“Well, you still haven’t. Ocular implants hardly classify you as a cyborg these days. Name’s Nancy, by the way. You looking for work? Or do you have a job lined up?”

“Celeste,” she said, extended her hand. Nancy ignored it completely. Celeste let her hand hang awkwardly in midair for a while before slowly letting it fall by her side.

“Don’t make a habit of that,” Nancy said plainly. “Extend a hand, get it chopped off.”

“Like…literally? Or…”

“You the fuck-around-and-find-out type of person, Celeste?”

Celeste turned red. “Um, not really, no. I’ll take your word for it. And I do have a job lined up.”

“Shame. Well if it doesn’t pan out, reach out to me. I’ll hook you up.”

“What is it you do, exactly?”

Nancy tilted her head and pursed her lips. The message was clear. Don’t ask. This wasn’t the pool you could dip your toes in to test it out. If you wanted to get wet, you had to jump in the deep end. 

“When you’re ready,” Nancy said, “let me know. Got your phone on you?”

The two exchanged numbers. Getting choked out wasn’t how Celeste had thought she’d make her first friend, but Nancy seemed wise to the ways of the city.

“I was thinking of gettin’ a bite at Pat’s Patties,” Celeste said once they’d exchanged numbers. “Is it any good?”

Nancy shrugged nonchalantly. “The breakfast melt is good. Everything else might give you the shits. Make sure you take the drive-thru, though. Don’t step inside.”

“Breakfast melt. Got it. What’s wrong with goin’ inside?”

“Place is a front,” she said simply. “Only people who step inside are drug dealers and idiots. Only people who leave are drug dealers and dead idiots.”

“Oh.” Celeste nodded as though this made perfect sense. Nancy had said it with such nonchalance! How often did people get killed in this city? “Of course.” ‘And then a thought crossed her mind. Her chance at doing a little reconnaissance. “Hm…any good cafés around here? I heard the Black Cat was okay, but not much else.”

Hearing about the café’s reputation from the owner was one thing. Getting it from someone with no skin in the game was another.

“Black Cat? Oh, you mean the Murder Café? It’s alright, I guess.”

Celeste blinked. Curled her lips in and leaned in slightly, tilting one ear at her. “I’m…I’m sorry — the what?”

Nancy opened her mouth to reply but was interrupted by her phone buzzing in her pocket. She took it out, frowned, and put it away. 

“I don’t know much about it,” she said quickly. “Mainly just rumors of people going missing there. Lots of criminals and cyborgs visit the place. Real cyborgs. I’d avoid it, if I were you. Listen I gotta run — give me a call some time, if you’re still around.”

Nancy breezed past her and down the hallway before Celeste could think of a reply. She stopped at the final door and banged on it. 

“Open up!” she barked, “or I’ll break the damn door down! Here to collect.”

Celeste headed toward the elevator, hoping to be far away from the hall before Nancy could conduct her business. 

“Murder Café,” she hissed at herself. “Great job, Celeste. You sure know how to pick ‘em. Least you’ve got a good neighbor.”

Despite the summer sun, the city was cool. The skyscrapers blocked out most of the light.

It was just before noon, but the roads were still congested. Everyone moved at least ten miles above the speed limit, but the tightly woven traffic pattern made it hard to get into the correct lane. She passed Pat’s Patties when a black SUV refused to let her merge, despite her blinker being on, and had to U-turn. 

The retro-style diner had a freckled woman with bright red, wavy hair as the mascot. A small sitting area sat beneath a long overhang in front of the restaurant, with enough benches and chairs to seat at least twenty. Currently, the only occupant was a thin, haggard-looking man whose head hung as low as his spirit. 

His shoes were duct-taped together, and the rags he wore were as thin as toilet paper. Celeste eyed him cautiously as she drove by, but he didn’t seem to notice her.

A pleasant voice asked for her order. She went with Nancy’s recommendation. The bag was sealed tight enough to keep the smells inside, although the grease-stained bottom gave her a good indication as to what she was in for. The soda machine was out, so she got a bottle of water to round out her meal.

Celeste’s stomach grumbled more. By the time she pulled away from the drive-thru, she was salivating.

The man, now to her left, had laid down on one of the benches. Celeste watched him rest a long, frail hand across his stomach. He didn’t have any signs indicating he needed money, or anything of the sort. 

She looked down at the bag in her lap, contemplating.

She’d gotten a second chance in Radiant City. Not everyone was so fortunate.

Celeste parked in one of the spots near the exit, grabbed her bag, and scurried across the street to the sitting area.

“Are you hungry?” she asked. Startled, the man sat bolt upright. His eyes beamed with delight and danger. He reminded her of a dog her neighbor used to have. Poor thing had been just as curious as it was frightened and would bark at you while it approached. 

Celeste held her hands up to show she meant no harm. “Saw you sittin’, here,” she said, approaching more slowly now. “Thought you might want somethin’ to eat. I gotta eat, too, but I can share.”

The man still stared at her as though she’d landed from another planet, but nodded. “Can’t,” he said hoarsely, but quickly gave up and rubbed his throat.

Celeste sat beside him. “That’s okay. I only got my hands to rip the burger in half. Hope that’s okay.” 

The man nodded gratefully. Celeste opened her bag, ripped the burger in two — God, it smelled so good — and gave half to him. 

The man tried to mouth the words “thank you”, but couldn’t quite manage. Celeste told him it was no problem, and then hopped back into her car.

She decided she would spend the time before her shift looking at furniture and household essentials, mapping out her upcoming purchases.

But truthfully, she was now terrified to begin her shift at the Black Cat in a few hours. So nervous, that she almost didn’t realize what time it was, and had to cut her perusing short to get back on the road — and get to the Murder Café.