Chapter 3 The Runaway

If you were to have a top down view of the Patron prefecture of District 2, you’d notice it would look similar to the circuitry you’d find on sodding wafers. Intermingling, a labyrinth of roads and alleyways cross and twirl over on another. A tourist would find themselves lost rather easily in this type of place but these aren't the places the tourists would go to, why would they? They say it's in hardships that you find kindred spirits. Collective misery sparks unity over a common pain. So despite having hard lives, the residents of this city found comfort in the communities they’ve built. Don't get me wrong, these places tend to be where crime thrives, yet, even with this, there are still ways to ease the pain. Hole-in-the-wall ramen shops, playgrounds for the kids, known safe places within the alleys where algae meals are collectively cooked at. It’s cold. There are plenty of blankets. At least that’s what some may think. Some such as Brite. Brite is a runaway from a bad home and she really wants to see the ocean one day…

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Beams of light break through steam in a warm alleyway. The steam quickly dissipates as a girl in purple runs through. Her goggles fog, so she stops at a corner, pulling them off to reveal two glowing neon green eyes. She glances around the alley to see a ladder, after quickly climbing up, she finally rests against a cool brick wall. It's apparent she's out of breath but she holds, waiting for something. Finally, a few cars blaring their sirens, pass the alleyway. She smiles through her mask, sighing in relief and places her goggles back on.

 “These hacking jobs seem to be getting easier.” She comments, looking down at her PDA and smiles smugly into the reflection. “Or maybe I’m just getting better.”

 She begins to nonchalantly pace through the catwalk, stretching her arms over her head. Her eyes wander to the ground, multiple holoscreens with faces under bounties and other jobs are strewn across the walls. One in particular showing her call sign, a wanted poster by the Noble Faction. Her smile only gets more smug “Looks like pops is starting to notice too. Good.” Her gloating is interrupted by a can being kicked into the entrance of the alley.

 Three men begin to file in. Using her goggles, she zooms in to get a closer look. The first one on the left playing with a bowie knife only a tad smaller than a machete. The second, a rather stout individual walking in a very timid manner. Even from 2 stories up, Brite could see him shaking. You’d almost forget the giant gauss slugger he’s carrying. Brite remembers what those guns were for. Originally intended for combat during the Fracture, it kept its popularity for its reliability and customization. She takes note that this iteration seems to have been retrofitted with an overtuned capacitor, more than likely built to fire a much larger slug than intended. Finally, the third, definitely the leader due to how much more “customized” he is compared to the other two. He‘a got a nasty toothy grin, shark teeth and all. An Optic too. The augmentation looks to be a rectangular chrome attachment wrapped from his left eye to the back of his forehead. It’s a custom augment made for the same war as before. The people here call it a LazerEye, a rather generic moniker for something so expensive. All of them are wearing the classic mercenary fit, spiked jackets, leather boots, the regular schtick.

The one with the gauss slugger seemingly apprehensive, breaks their silent pacing.

"How would we actually know she's in here, Spike?"

"Travis, you and I both saw her run in this direction not a minute ago! It’s obvious she’d wanna hide in the alleyways than the streets. Ain’t that right, Knifeguy?"

The man who goes by Spike begins scanning the alleyway.  Brite stands up and begins to make another run. Now, mid run, she ponders if the guy's name actually is Knifeguy or if the others just call him that. Her thoughts are quickly interjected as she feels the catwalk creak to her pace. She tries to slow down hoping to steady the grate but it’s too late. With a shrill groan, the catwalk tears and breaks. Not good. She attempts to jump, grab a railing but her hands slip from the condensation and her shoe sticks through. Really not good. The catwalk ruptures open in a groan and Brite falls completely through. She hits the ground hard and gets up with a groan of her own, rubbing her leg, the stinging is there but nothings broken at least.

“Think they saw me?” She scoffs to herself before seeing the three men begin to approach her. She stands up, her chest tightens, feeling her heart beat with adrenaline, She sprints down the alleyway ignoring the ache in her foot and the now dull pain in her thigh.

"Oh crap. Oh crap. Oh crap." She exclaims. The footsteps from behind her getting ever so closer. Any form of escape. There just has to be. The trio begin to squabble as they try to catch up.

"Damn it Travis, just shoot the slugs already!"

"I-I can't! I can't get a good shot on her! Dammit W-we don’t want to kill her!"

 Brite’s chest tightens further as she passes corridor after corridor, dumpster after dumpster, until finally, like a light shining over her looming sense of dread. A pipeline from both buildings straight back to the catwalks. She vaults onto a dumpster, attempting to high jump to the pipe. Success. Swinging her momentum to the catwalk, the pipe is hit by a stray slug. It bends and contorts over the damage and weight leaving Brite to fall, hitting the asphalt for the second time, this time her left arm cushioning the blow and more pain rings, is it tingling or numb? Hard to keep track but she can tell it hurts to move that arm now and it’s most definitely hanging lower than it’s supposed to. Only adrenaline is keeping her from tearing up. Nonetheless, The pain can’t compare to the nausea of her heart falling into her stomach as she looks up. The men finally caught up to her.

 The one with the LazerEye, presumably named Spike, struts up to Brite in a rather wicked fashion, grabbing her by her injured arm by choice. It’s a sharp and intense pain but She holds her whimper back out of spite.

 "Well, what do we have here fellas?" He cackles as his optic points a laser beam at Brite’s face. He rips Brite’s goggles off dropping them to the floor..

"Agh-! Let me go!" She attempts to pull her arm away but it’s agonizing under the man’s vice grip.

"Looks like a little runaway lost their way home." The one with the knife says with a sly smirk. “Cute one too.”

“You got that right, ain’t only that either, you got some interesting ocular augments there, Missy, look mighty expensive. Probably fetch a pretty penny down at Ground Zero.” Spike smiles a broken sneer, peering down at her, arm held in the air. He gets extremely close to Brite’s face, uncomfortably close. His shark teeth have yellowed and some slight rust can be seen on the edges of each tooth. Brite grimaces as she’s forced to take a whiff, reeking of cigar smoke and metal grease. “Fortunately for you, we're not looking for a cut job today. What do you blokes say we take this vandal into custody?" He chuckles looking back at his companions.

"Aye that'd be a good squeeze Spike, We definitely need the chips." The nervous one, who is presumed to be Travis, points out.

"Her clothes look expensive too. It’d be mighty unfortunate that we found her after someone stole them off her." The other says with a smirk flipping the knife in his hand, looking up and down at Brite. Spike chuckles in response, the laser drifting down from Brite's face.

 In that moment of terror and fear, Brite remembered something she was told by her older brother., “Brite, if you ever find yourself in a precarious situation with a man who may want to harm you or worse, you can always rely on the one weak spot every man has.”

 Within only a few seconds, her terror and fear quickly mixed into a flame of fury. Brite began to scream, the type of scream that pierces eardrums. Discombulation was her intention with this and it was fortunately a success, leading to the next step, pull with all her might, Spike falters giving Brite the perfect moment to shoot her right steeled toe shoe straight into his groin. A crack reverberates across the walls of the alley as the merc shrivels and howls in pain letting her go for just a moment, it’s all the runaway needs. She stomps the man’s foot and rams her head against his chin. The man's teeth are sharp. She knows that. She can presume the top row of his teeth had just stabbed his inner gums. He shrieks in agony but Brite ignores it, kicking him into the other two with her good leg and makes another break for it, not before grabbing her goggles of course.

Further into the alleyway, she feels the adrenaline begin to wear as her arm begins to feel more and more pained. She attempts to hold it to her side to keep it from dangling, overhearing the three bicker with one another. Mostly just Spike yelling in protest and pain. The footsteps begin to dissipate as the fluffy haired runaway makes a pained smile, turning another corner only to run headfirst into yet another person. Her face hitting their chest.
 
“As if my situation couldn't get any better.” She says to herself. Looking up to see a rather average height man with shimmering platinum hair, and a face of someone who seems to be permanently pissed off or maybe out of coffee.

 “and a lazerEye too?” Brite thinks but then realizes it looks very different, like a screen rather than a camera. “Maybe a new model???” That doesn’t matter right now though.

 "Apologies! I-I didn't mean to barge into you like that, mister. See, I am su-sort of on the run from a group of mer-" Suddenly the man looks her up and down, taking note of her injury and eyes out beyond her, without hesitation and to Brites irritated surprise, the man pulls her out of view behind a dumpster.

 “What kind of alleyway is this???” Brite thinks to herself. Her mouth covered by the man’s glove she quickly understands the situation. The 3 men run past the dumpster, Spike still making shrill noises in agony. He waits for the three to no longer be seen or heard lets her go as quickly as he grabbed her. He immediately locks onto her arm and then notices her leaning on her good leg.

"You’re injured." He says gruffly. Brite grabs hold of her arm, her jumpsuit having torn a bit and the numbing pain from her left arm is only getting worse. She attempts to hide her shaking hands. She tries to stand normal but can’t. "Just some…minor bruising and uh maybe a sprained ankle but I’ll be okay, you have my thanks!" She looks up at him again to which he is peering down with tired but focused eyes. She tries again. “I appreciate your help but I reallly must be going no-”

“Your arm.” He cuts her off “It’s dislocated. Stay still.”

“Heh?” Brite veers her eyes at her arm but before she could say anything more. He grabs her again. This time by her arm and pulls hard. “ACGH! WHA- LET ME GO!” She screams in pain. It hurts. She can’t help but begin to cry.

“I said keep still.” He says rather calmly considering the situation. The pain is only more intense until finally she feels a pop. “ah-” Is all she says before the man takes a look at her for another moment making her feel embarrassed from crying, her arm still hurts but it feels tremendously better. “Thank-” she’s quickly interrupted from further embarrassment as he begins to unbutton his trenchcoat along with his sweater. “SERIOUSLY??” She screams to herself, covering her face. He grabs his white undershirt and shreds it with his bare hands from the middle removing it entirely. but underneath the shirt Brite takes notice of what looks like mummy wrappings, She's not entirely sure what to make of such attire. He looks over at her seeing her still red in the face and pauses as if to say something but doesn’t, now methodically folding the wrap. Despite the embarrassment, she can’t help but feel that this man seems familiar. “You really need to stay still, you are more than likely going through shock after your arm was dislocated. You need to keep that arm from moving.” He says before using the shredded shirt as a makeshift sling, tightening it against her body. Brite simply watches, something tells her this man doesn’t have any ill will, unlike the prior miscreants.

“We don’t have much time, Ms Briteny.” He says as he finishes tying the sling behind her shoulder. “My name isn't Briteny, It's Brite and You could have led with knowing my name, you know…” She mumbles.

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