I pull my backpack strap aside, and she promptly slides a hand inside my collar, cleaning gashes I didn’t know I had with solution that stings. After an injection of Madmyn medicine to keep me from getting Myndrous diseases, and a bandage, she motions that I can slide my strap back on.
“Thanks.”
“I know you’re protective of your things and your dog. And you’re probably running on adrenaline a lot. But you have to take better care of yourself.”
“You act like I’m not trying.”
“I know you are. But sometimes, doing the same thing is the exact reason we fail. You need to change your routine. This scavenging business is dangerous.”
I’m well aware.
Aphria’s jaw muscles flex. “I hate to do this to you, but I don’t ever want to see you again. Not because I don’t need you. My patients need the medical implants. But I can’t stand the idea of you dying for them. Let machines do it.”
I gasp. “This is the only thing I’m good at.”
“There are always other ways to use our skills, Tessi.Find another way.”
She hands Radar a treat bone. “I will miss you, sweet boy.” Aphria straightens. “But please don’t come back.”
“Aphria…”
“Get out while you still can.” She gazes away from us and at the door. “Trust me. This is not the life your parents would’ve wanted for you.”
“You knew them?”
“No. But I can tell you it’s not the life I want for my son. He won’t leave my side. I won’t leave my patients without care. But you don’t have to do this. Don’t stay just because it’s your default.”
I glance back at her as I hold the door for Radar. My main go-to buyer is now off the table. Which means, unless I can find another who will want high priced items, I’m on my last run. I can’t survive without her level of pay.
Packing my credits close to my body, I move on to sell other goods I have found. Small memory chips, engine wiring harnesses, igniters, fuel cell materials, and other fragments of higher quality metals.
I find a new buyer set up in the middle of the market. He sells home defense systems. But in the back of his booth, I see weapons’ parts in crates. He’s from a world where Nebs have invaded in great numbers.
He’s a refugee. And what he’s selling istechnicallylegal. But I know why he’s out here. He’s like Aphria, and many others, trying to build a way to survive without the government’s helpbecause the government is busy fighting battles far away from home.And stuffing their pockets with our credits.
I’ve got pyretic squibs he might like and show him one. He doesn’t speak my language. In fact, he doesn’t speak at all. I’m not sure he can with the burn scar over his mouth. He gives Radar a wary glance then offers me two fingers per squib.
I shake my head and motion for five.
He holds up three long fingers with skin that squirms.
That is less than I want but more than he wants to pay. I doubt anyone else in the market will take this weight off of me.
I pull the case from my bag and open it up. His expression is like he’s struck gold. He pays me and reaches for the case. As he takes it, my collar shifts, and his eyes fall on the bandage.
“Min—dus?” He struggles to say it, and it makes me wonder how he eats.
“Four outside of town.” I show him the number with my hand and point away from Halfhaven.
He shoves the credits at me. Packs the squibs in his crates, and immediately begins closing up his booth.
I step back and into Radar, who gets up and looks at me.
A shout from the end of the road makes everyone turn. Something crashes in a distant booth. A dark haired man in tattered clothes gets up, climbs over the fallen display rack, and walks into the road.
I haven’t had time to buy supplies yet, but his green eyes tell me we need to leave.
Radar stays close to me as I turn and head back toward the shipyard. As we run past booths, I’m eager to find supplies and grab a handful of credits from my pouch. As we pass a farmer’s booth, I snatch up a “grab bag” and toss them a chip for ten credits. It’s more than the bag’s price, but I’m not going to wait for change. Everything else can wait. I’m starving, and I know Radar has to be too.
