I skip through traffic on a main road, sliding over someone’s dashboard as they honk. The brightness of the Red Light District would make you distrust the fact that its even night. 

You left her there. She’s going to die.  

Instead of crossing the next road. I run towards the oncoming traffic. 

Because you traumatized her. You abused your friend. And now she’ll die knowing that you only wanted to use her. 

A sports car hurtles towards me. I leap onto the windshield and spring off it, up towards the roof of the body shop to my right. I miscalculate, being flung by the force of the vehicle and smack against the wall to the right of the awning. Sliding on top of it I lash out to grab something. A cable prevents me from falling onto the family of four rushing beneath me. I kick out and pull, but the cable tears free, killing the light from the letters of the glowing sign. 

How will I react when I see the bullet holes in her head? 

I wont go for her funeral. 

Scrambling, I haul myself onto the the roof. I roll over the edge, landing in a puddle. 

My shoulder grinds. 

My headache sprawls, a spiderweb wrapped around the left side of my neck. 

Need to eat. 

Need to run. 

The aching throbs. It knows what I’ve done. 

Bars.

I sit up, dripping, and stretch my neck, grabbing my head and pulling it to the side. A millisecond of relief before the ache floods back. I beat my neck with my fist. Each thump stops the pain for an instant. Pills. 

But now I’m running again. 

Free on the rooftops. 

Free from Chelsi’s bullet filled face. 

I haven’t been gone that long, I can still make it. If I go directly through the central district. 

The wall of corporate skyscrapers glares at me, blinding. 

Exo-World. Clouds and Air. Tested True. Three companies that own the world. 

They don’t stand a chance against me. I divert, heading directly to them. 

I ascend, leaping across the skyline as they approach. Their signs are squeaky clean but their roofs are sticky with tar and trash laden. 

A man with one arm and one wing, smoking a cigarette, is watching me from atop the Exo-World building. I fling myself towards the sign, landing in between the crook of the W. I scuttle up the framework mesh behind the display, then vault to the tip of the letter. I leap, grabbing the edge of the top of the building. It’s slippery. I grunt, sliding back. My grip fails and I fall, thudding back onto the W’s top. 

The man grunts. 

I twist, wincing at the bruise on my hip. I stand and throw myself again, this time swinging my leg over the ledge immediately. I scramble, kicking and pulling, and manage to slip over onto the roof, landing in a pile of coiled cables. 

The man with one wing turns to me. “Nice day, isn’t it.” 

“Every day is the same.” 

“With eyes like that, they sure must be.” 

“Eyes like what?” 

“Eyes that consume. They’re meant to be projectors, not receivers.” 

I’m about to ask what he’s talking about, when I realize I don’t fucking care. 

A com buzzes on his collar of his coat. “Raven egg clocked. Yes, I repeat. Raven egg clocked,” he says. 

“You reporting me to the police?” 

“Sure.” He stares at me, drawing from his cigarette. “You gonna push me off this edge? I can’t fly with a single wing.” 

I snatch his cigarette and pull from it. This is expensive shit. 

He takes another one from under his wing and lights it. 

I toss it before finishing it, and take off, sprinting to the other side of the building and fling myself. The way down is easy. Each building following in submission like a set of giant’s steps. I can still make it. I wont be late. 

“Oi! Oi that’s him over there!” shouts a policeman from the street. 

I stop, looking down from six stories up. It’s the same policeman from the convenience store. 

“I need backup! Requesting backup I have found the target.” 

There’s an electrical box with a huge fan on the roof. I kick it until it breaks free, then hoist it up. Something in my back crack under the weight. I struggle back to the edge and toss it down. 

The roof of his car crunches and he screams. 

I’m running again. 

Time passes. Ten minutes? Twenty? My mind is quiet as my steps. 

The blare of traffic reduces with building height as I exit the central district. I can see the concert hall ahead. Music is still playing. 

I can make it. 

Crossing the distance in the amount of time it takes to dream, I slide down a street light and hit the floor, running to the entrance. 

“You missed it,” the bouncer says. He’s round, and triple my weight. 

“But I can still here the music.” 

“Concert is over. It’s just the after party. No more admission.” 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Is she backstage or?” 

“Nope. She’s in the party.” 

“Well can you tell her I’m here.” 

“Nope.” 

I sigh, turning around. But I spin, darting under his raised arm and sprint down the hall. 

He shouts, but by the time he’s turned to see where I’ve gone, I’ve jumped the ticket booth and crashed into a massive crowd. 

Techno blares into my ears. My headache thumps with the rhythm 

Blue light flashes like a machine gun from the ceiling. People covered in neon paint splatters seem to move in slow motion. The bouncer is shouting from the edge. I slip into the crowd. 

I need to eat. I can barely hold my ground as I’m jostled from around by the dancing. I knock into a girl doing a line of coke off her friend. The dust bursts in to the air making me cough. 

“What’s your problem, dick?” she shouts. Her mascara makes her look like a cat. She wears a set of flashing bunny ears and a choker collar around her neck. 

“That is my problem exactly,” I mutter, slipping away. The coke rips into me like a butcher. 

Now I can move. I push forward. How the fuck am I supposed to find her in all this? I head to the bar. 

The bartender is an ogre. His lower tusks protrude so far up that they pass his eyes. The lines of piercings on them jingle as he turns his head. 

“What’s your worst cocktail?” I ask. 

His eyes narrow into purple slits. Then he nods and pulls a tube from under the bar. He sprays a foam into a glass. With his other hand, he pull out what looks like a fruit, or at least what I’ve been taught a fruit looks like in elementary school. He holds it to the foam and stabs it with a needle and it explodes. He then removes one of his teeth to reveal a syringe dropper, and lets two drops fall into the glass and hands it to me. Green at the bottom. Purple and glittery at the top with a spiral swirl of red. 

I hand him fifteen credits, five more than is owed. “Have you seen Tauren Ksura? Do you know where she is?” 

“We’re not allowed to indulge you groupies,” he grunts, snatching up the credits. “Especially not under age ones.” 

I slam the cocktail. It tastes like gasoline. 

It feels like gasoline too. Fuck I am fueled. 

I step on the stool and onto the bar counter to get a better view. 

“You can’t be up there.” The ogre swipes at me. I hop over his hand. 

There she is. She’s at the far left of the stage, dancing with some guy in a yellow suit. Who the fuck wears a yellow suit?

I don’t remember getting to her, but I’m there already. 

“The record deal would be fantastic for both of us,” the yellow suit man is saying. “It includes advertisement, distribution, online pr-” 

“Tauren!” I exclaim, flinging my arms around her. 

“Woah. Kallix, hey,” she says, looking apologetically at the yellow man. 

I hug her tight, burying my head into her neck. She is warm. She’s soft. My hands stop shaking and my headache dissolves. “I missed you. Missed you so much.” Everything is alright. 

“Sorry, Teregas, I’ll be with you in a minute.” Tauren whispers in my ear. Her breath is like feathers. “What are you on, Kallix.” 

“Nothing, nothing,” I say, giddily. “I just wanted to tell you that I’ll come to your wedding.” I hold her, swaying to the music. 

“Thank you, Kallix.” 

“You smell so good. You always do.” 

“When is the last time you’ve eaten?” Tauren asks with a laugh. “You feel like a power line about to collapse.” 

“Oh there’s power in my lines alright.” 

“We should get you something to eat.” 

“Only wanna eat you.” 

“Very powerful line, Kallix. Come on, get up.” 

I fell? “Just hold me for a second more.” 

“I have to talk to this guy. The offer he’s giving me is insane.” 

“Alright, alright. Ok. Alright,” I lift my head from her shoulder and look her in the eyes. My jaw grinds. 

“You’re gonna be safe right?” she asks, holding me like a slow dancer. 

“Never.” 

“Of course.” 

“Hey, why is there a policeman next to the DJ?” I ask, looking over her shoulder to the stage. 

“What?” she whirls around.  

Two officers in blue are beside the elevated booth. The pasty young DJ shakes her head, holding her hand to her ear as if she can’t hear them. 

“They’re not looking for you right?” Tauren asks. 

“Probably.” 

“What?” 

One of the officers pulls out a gun and fires into the ceiling of the club. The music dies. 

“Where is Kallix Rane?” 

The officer is small and wiry. She wears a set of intercom sunglasses. Who the hell wears sunglasses in a club? What a loser. She has the silver deputy badge. 

Tauren kicks my legs so I fall against the metal barricade in front of the stage, hiding me from their view. 

I roll over, kissing her ankle. 

“I will repeat myself one more time,” the meerkat shaped officer says. “Where is Kallix Rane.” She fires another round into the ceiling. “Lock the doors, Yex. Nobody leaves until we find him.” 

Tauren pulls a cat mask from a girl next to her. She bends down. “Kallix, wear this,” she slides it over my face. “Head around the stage to the changing room. Here’s the key. Get out the window, alright?” 

I nod, pushing myself up but staying crouched. I don’t know why she’s so worried, they can’t catch me. “One more kiss before I go?” 

She kneels down with a look that I can’t process. She kisses my forehead. “Go.” 

As I scurry to the left, she steps to the right and raises her hand. “Excuse me officer,” she says, drawing the attention. “All guests reserved tickets in advance. I have the whole list of everybody in here on my tablet. If I could just-”

She shoots the gun again. “We already know he’s here. Now where is he.” She points the gun at Tauren. 

“I don’t even know who he is, how should I know where he is?” 

I make it around the stage and slip through the door. The police don’t see me, but all the people I have to push aside to get there do. I rocket up the stairs to the changing room. The window I left through is still open. 

I pause, looking around. Her clothes are strewn, her desk messy. I pick up her green button up, pressing it to my face. 

Gunshot, followed by a scream. 

I set the shirt down and jump from the window and land in the alley. 

I land on top of a police car, right on the curve of the hood, sliding to the side and knocking my knee on a dumpsters edge. Pain splinters down my shin as I hit the asphalt. 

Someone gets up off the hood of the police car. Heavy steps move towards me. 

I curl up, away from them. 

They crouch down. 

I lash out, elbow straight at their throat. 

My arm is caught by an iron grip. 

“Kallix, we need to talk.” 

“Oh fuck. Hey, Kaloaan.” 

Of course its my fucking brother.