the news programs on all the corp-sponsored stations because they aren’t news, just propaganda.
But let me step down from my soapbox now and get back to my day.
The reason for Kip’s excitement became apparent when he mentioned he had gotten his hands on some tempo. He was a serious flipper back when it was the rage, and he’d been tweaking for some since. I gained a little extra tolerance for him once I snagged a little bliss. It was sweet for a bit, just relaxin’ like the old days, but then we got browned out around 1230, probably be- cause of all the locals were actually home and cranking their AC. Kip suggested we head downtown to take a look at the cordon. I was on the back end of the bliss, pissed and looking for trouble, so we went for it.
The lockdown’s tight and my GridGuide kept trying to turn me around, so I had to drive manually. I wasn’t the only person out. Kip and I got as close to our des- tination as we could and pulled off into a parking deck near Welles, where we saw some people gathered on the fourth level looking toward the Hub. We all just stared at the fences and the KE officers all kitted out for trouble, but it lost its novelty quick.
Once we got tired of watching nothing happen, we headed back to the car. I somehow didn’t see this Roxy hobo who came flying out of nowhere and slammed into me. I got seriously tumbled and was pissed when I got up, but when I went to go after the guy he had taken someone else to the ground and was pummeling them. Kip was paralyzed by the craziness, so I was on my own. I’ll admit I panicked a little. I did the only thing I could think of and grabbed a ferrocrete block off a stack in the corner. I whacked the psycho in the head and knocked him off the guy he was pummeling. I thought I might have killed him, but then he turned and looked at me like I was next and I bolted, yelling for Kip to follow.
The psycho didn’t chase, and we made it to my Gaz in no time flat. I skipped the GridGuide since it was trou- ble before anyway and now telling me to stay put. We hit the side streets headed away from downtown and
got even weirder.
I was on Shawmut, near Peters Park, and could still see the cordon back at 90. All of a sudden, this cluster of nutbags came bolting from the park. They cut me off and I hit brakes, but I still clipped one of them. The next few seconds are still kind of a blur.
I remember all of them looking kind of crazed. Their eyes were really wide and bloodshot. The one I hit jumped back to his feet like nothing happened and then leapt on the front of the Gaz. Another pair jumped in the box. I considered flooring it when something hit the side of the Gaz. It must have been a troll. Or a rhino. The truck slid, tires caught the curb, and the old pickup rocked up pretty high. I was worried she was gonna flip. It was like the one crazy wasn’t enough, now I had to have a whole pack of drugged-up nutters slamming my car. I was hap- py it was the car and not me.
That’s when the gunfire started. I didn’t stick around to see who it was. I hit the gas, spun the back end out fast enough to toss the pair from the box, and then gunned it for home. The whole thing was like some- thing you’d expect rolling out in the Rox, not that close to the Hub.
It wasn’t until we were a few blocks south that I no- ticed the passenger window was cracked, and Kip was out cold. I stopped in the lot of a diner that had closed up because of the brownout to check on Kip. The work- ers were still milling around near the doors, looking up, pointing toward downtown and talking, but I made sure to park way off. I didn’t need questions with a truck full of bullet holes and a KO’d companion.
I’m no medic—in fact I barely passed my first aid class for lifeguarding—but I remembered enough to not move him. I gave him a good looking-over, and the only thing I saw was a few small cuts on his face and some iridescent glitter in the same area.
I wasn’t positive, but I figured it was just some of the iridescent rain that had made it to the ground the night before. I was reaching out to touch some when Kip’s eyes shot wide open, and he totally starting freaking
out. He yelled something about “warning Cerberus” for a few seconds, then he passed out.
He was moving fine while he was freaking out, so I figured it must have been a mix of residual tempo and a bump on the head. I pushed it a little harder than I prob- ably should have to get back home, but I didn’t hit any more trouble. I pulled the Gaz into the garage and got Kip onto the couch to rest.
I remembered the glitter on his face and grabbed a vial from the chemistry kit my parents bought me like a decade ago, but when I went to collect some, it was gone. I cleaned up the cuts and put a few bandages on his face, which expended all of my trauma first aid skills.
I’m getting all this down and getting ready to get some rest myself. I’ll write more tomorrow.