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“Mason?”
 
She tried to pitch her voice and keep it low, felt foolish despite her fear.
 
“Mason!”

There was no response.
 
The creature looked down at her, hissing again, lips pulled wide to show crooked, sharp teeth.

Sadie hefted the rock, looking up at it.
 
“Ok, motherfucker.
 
You want a piece?”
 
She squared her shoulders.
 
“I got a piece for you
right here
.”

It hissed again, then pulled back into the dark of the room, lost from view.
 
Sadie looked at the window a few more moments, then spun around, looking at the street.
 
Last time they’d come, there’d been more than one, ten, a
hundred
—

She heard the roar, cut short, and turned back to the window in time to see the creature come through the opening.
 
She raised the rock, lowering it after the thing hit the ground, bounced, and didn’t get back up.
 
It’s neck was twisted at a crazy angle, and —

“You ok?”
 
Mason stood in the window, looking down.
 
“Why are you holding a rock?”

“Fuck you, Mason Floyd.”

He threw a grin at her.
 
“It’s just that it looks like—”

“No really.
 
Not a good time.”
 
Sadie lowered the rock, ran her other hand through her hair.
 
“I didn’t know where you were.”

His smile dropped, and he looked down at his hands.
 
“Sorry.”
 
He vaulted over the edge of the window frame, landing in the street, the crunch of loose stones sounding as he landed.
 
She watched his face, caught the wince as he favored a leg.

“Seriously.
 
We’ve just been attacked by a horde of, fuck, I don’t know, fucking mutants or whatever the fuck they are, and you go walking off.
 
I was scared shitless.”
 
Sadie swallowed, the adrenaline starting to wear off.
 
“Fuck you, man.
 
You know what the worst thing is?”

He looked at her.
 
“No.”

“I’m starting to use ‘fuck’ like a comma.”
 
She breathed out.
 
“I normally only do that after the fourth drink.”

“I…”
 
He sighed, looking up the street again.
 
“Do you want that guitar?”

“At least tell me why you did it.
 
Fucking asshole.”

She saw him look down at his hands before looking into her face.
 
“I thought I’d be able to get to it before it showed itself.
 
I thought I’d be able to take it out before you knew it was there.”

“Why?
 
Why not just tell me?”

He shrugged.
 
“Your first question?
 
Why you’re here, on this street.
 
I can get you a guitar.
 
I don’t know if it’s a good one, but…
 
Look, you weren’t a part of the plan.
 
When we put you in the van?
 
It just seemed…
 
The best thing at the time, and snowballed from there.
 
I figure something from home might help.”

“Snowballed.
 
That’s what you call it?”

He ignored her, his eyes looking back down the street.
 
“The way I figure it, this stuff’s not really in your bag, right?
 
So — I was trying to…”
 
He stopped.
 
“Hell with it.
 
I’ll get you the guitar.”

Sadie looked at him, eyes searching his face.
 
“Wait.
 
You didn’t want me to see that thing?”
 
She jerked a thumb at the body in the street.

“Right,” he said.
 
“I dropped the ball.”

“Because you didn’t want me involved?”

“Because it’s not your problem.”
 
He frowned.
 
“This is company business, Sadie.
 
Like you keep saying, I’m a
company
man.
 
It’s not your deal.
 
I’ll make sure you’re compensated.”

“I…
 
Compensated?”
 
A laugh slipped out of her.
 
“For what?”

He waved at the street around them.
 
“For this.”

“What about the kid, Mason?”
 
She took a step closer.
 
“Who makes sure she’s compensated?”

“The syndicate—”

“Your
company
,” she said, “can’t compensate that child for the last two days.
 
For last night.
 
For what she did.
 
For you.”

He looked at her, the moment stretching.
 
“She’ll be looked after, Sadie.”

“By who?”
 
Sadie felt her voice rising, didn’t care.
 
“By the mad scientist?”

“No—”

“Then who?
 
You?
 
Don’t make me laugh.”
 
Sadie pointed back down the street the way they’d come.
 
“You can’t even stop a bunch of savages from tearing off her face in an empty town.
 
When you get back in the world?
 
The company’s going to eat her alive.
 
You people don’t understand.
 
This is why we go ‘illegal,’ Mason.
 
We don’t want to put up with your shit.”

He looked at her, something dark in his eyes.
 
“You finished?”

“No.”

“I’ll look after her, Sadie.
 
The company won’t eat her up, spit her out.”

“How do you know?”

“She saved my life.
 
That kid up there?
 
Don’t count her out.
 
She’s tough.
 
Been through some shit, I figure.”

“It’s not enough,” said Sadie.
 
“You know that.”

He raised his hands, palms up.
 
“What do you want from me, Sadie?
 
What do you need me to say?”
 
His voice was cracked, a hint of…

“I don’t need you to say anything,” she said.
 
“I’m just telling you how it is.”

“No one will touch her,” said Mason, his eyes bright, “because I
owe
her.
 
That good enough for you?”

She looked up into his face, eyes searching.
 
“Ok, Floyd.
 
That’s a start.”

He swallowed.
 
“A start?
 
What else—”

“Get me that fucking guitar.”

⚔ ⚛ ⚔

The shop was old, like everything else, but felt…
older
.
 
Sadie looked through the windows, tall bars covered with rust and grime standing behind the cracked glass of the window.
 
Ancient clothing, mostly moldered, rotted remains stood on ancient mannequins bleached by the passing of uncounted days.

“You sure know how to show a lady a good time, Floyd,” she said.
 
“This place?
 
It’s all class.”

“The guitar’s inside,” he said.
 
She watched as he walked over to the door, grabbing the handle.
 
It fell off in his hand, and he stared at it.
 
“This whole place is…”

“Yeah,” she said.
 
“It is.
 
How’d you know there’s a guitar in here?
 
I can’t see a thing.”

He tapped the side of his head at his temple.
 
“Optics.
 
Did a deep scan using thermal.
 
Got it mapped out.”
 
He tried a smile.
 
“I don’t want any more… surprises.”

She snorted.
 
“You and me both, Floyd.
 
How we getting in?”

He looked at her.
 
“Really?
 
You can’t guess?”
 
He pushed against the door, leaning into it.
 
His rear foot scraped against the dirt before it found purchase, and the door’s hinges popped, the door falling inside the store.
 
Dust walked out into the light on legs of grey gossamer, pooling around his ankles.
 
He held a hand out.
 
“After you.”

“Hell no,” she said.
 
“Last time there was a dark room, something tried to eat my face.”

“To be fair, that was more of a first floor window.
 
This is an actual door.
 
Look.
 
No horrible face-eating mutants.”

“Sure,” she said.
 
“You go first then.”

“Don’t say,” he said as he turned away from her, “that chivalry’s dead.”
 
He walked through the doorway, the shadows falling over the back of his armor as he stepped from view.

Asshole
, she thought, but couldn’t stop a small smile from touching her face.

His voice carried out to her.
 
“See, if you had a link, I could share the overlay with you.”

“I don’t want your company shit in my head,” Sadie said, stepping through the door, placing a boot slow and steady against the fallen door.
 
It didn’t rock as it took her weight, and she looked into the room.

The place was crammed with all kinds of things, her eyes picking out a rack of old clothes, some fallen into heaps of rotten cotton and leather on the floor, the racks themselves rusty and tarnished.
 
The walls had a few faded posters clinging to them, some of the writing and art still visible towards the back of the store where it was darker.
 
She ignored all that, her eyes looking for —

There
.

It stood at the back of the store, sitting neck up in a rack of black metal —

“Is it ok?”
 
Mason stepped out from behind some shelves lined with old books.
 
“I don’t know if—”

“It’s a Fender Stratocaster,” she said.

“Ok,” said Mason, turning to look at it.
 
He paused.
 
“Is that good?”

“Ok, sure, it’s not a Gibson Les Paul.
 
But…
 
It’s a Fender.
 
Stratocaster.”

“That’s good, then?”
 
He looked from the guitar to her.
 
“It’s hard to tell, because you’re not using words I understand.”

“Floyd,” she said, “it’s possible you’re not the complete company cunt I took you for.”

“Right,” he said.
 
“It’s good, then.
 
Thanks for clearing that up.”

She breathed out.
 
“It’s
perfect
.”
 
She saw some of the tension ease out of him, wondered why he was carrying it.
 
Oh
.
 
“Floyd?”

“Yeah.”

“This is better than a start.
 
Thanks.”

He grinned at her, then turned around and walked back behind the shelves and into the gloom.
 
Sadie walked down the store to stand in front of the guitar, reaching a hand towards it.
 
She could feel the itch in her palms, the need to
play
—

First, an amp.
 
She found one near the guitar, an old pre-acquisition Yamaha.
 
If she could find some cables, she could wire it up.
 
Maybe even play a little —
 

“What do you think?”
 
His voice pulled her attention away, and she looked up.
 
He was carrying an old dress, the style long gone.
 
The lace was still pure and white, not the yellow she was expecting.

“Are you trying to be funny?”

“No,” he said, frowning.
 
“I don’t think so.”

“I’m not putting that on.”

“Oh,” he said.
 
“It’s not for you.”

“Whoever it’s for must have a better sense of humor than me.”

He was still frowning.
 
“It’s a ball gown.”

“I can see that.
 
You planning on going dancing with someone?”

“Not exactly,” he said.

She looked at him.
 
“You look like a kid at a school dance.
 
You
are
going dancing with someone.”

“No,” he said.
 
“It’s for…
 
It’s for a friend.”

“Right,” said Sadie.
 
“But a friend with breasts.”

“It’s not like that,” he said.
 
He started walking around the shop.
 
“See if you can find a box or something for it.”

“Right,” she said.
 
“You realize that a girl’s not going to like you giving her an out-of-style dress, right?”

He looked at her, a smile tugging the edge of his mouth.
 
“Yeah.
 
I get that.”

“You’re going to give it to her anyway.”

“Yeah.”

“When we get back to the world.”

“When we get back to the world, sure,” he said.

“I don’t follow,” she said.
 
“It’s not like you can get FedEx to come in here.”

“No,” he said.
 
“But I think I can get someone else to come in here.”

“Whatever,” she said.
 
She thought for a moment.
 
“How you figure that?”

“Find me a box, I’ll show you,” he said.

“You’re an asshole,” she said, but started looking.
 
It didn’t take long — they found an old suitcase out the back with hinges still attached.
 
It had metal clasps that didn’t fit quite right at the front, but good enough to hold it shut.