She waves. “Rafael, I know you’re probably heading home, but I wanted to catch you before I start my double.”
Rafael musters a grin. “It’s okay! I’ll just grab the next HOV train home.” One arrives every two minutes, after all. “What’s going on?”
“Well…the thing is, Rafael—” His mom sighs. “I can’t get hold of your sister.”
He bites the inside of his cheek. Somehow, Rafael knew this would be about Maria.
“Your father and I—we had a fight…with Maria,” his mother continues. “She wanted her new boyfriend—some part-time anarchist from theslums—to stay with us. I told her absolutely not. We couldneverhost someone like that in our home!” She huffs. “Of course, Maria wouldn’t listen to reason, so she moved out. Last night…your father tried to convince her to come back, but she chose her boyfriend—a man she hadjuststarted dating, mind you—over her own parents.”
Rafael’s shoulders tense. Maria has been bouncing between their parents’ and her friends’ apartments since she turned eighteen, but she’s always stayed in Midtown, never the Outer Districts. He knows she’s visited, especially with her recent interest in anti-corp activism and black-market augments.
But when Maria wasn’t fighting with their parents growing up, she was defending him. Shouldn’t Rafael do the same? Convince their mother that if Maria chose this guy, maybe he’s worth trusting? That she must have a plan, even if Rafael hasn’t spoken to her since that V-link message a week ago?
Except that would mean another fight. “She’s probably fine, Mom,” he says instead. “Maria takes care of herself. I’ll reach out when I can—hopefully she still makes it to family dinner like usual.”
The call ends with his mother’s usual worry-filled goodbye, and Rafael steps into the early morning streets.
At this hour, the sun is blocked by Midtown’s towering concrete, yet the city is never truly dark. Neon ads pulse from every corner while HOV trains hum overhead, long silver cars gliding along invisible rails. Rafael peers up at the newest billboard above an old metal walkway as he leaves the hospital campus.
Maria suspects they increase the light pollution each year, determined to keep Nova City’s title as “the brightest city in the world.” He vaguely remembers a school lesson about a mayor in the 2100s who wanted to recreate New York after it was lost during the Second Cold War. The details are fuzzy. Rafael never paid close attention then.
All he knew was that the endless flashing kept him awake, seeping through his parents’ cheap window screens. The hum soothes him now, like crashing waves. Not that he’s ever visited the ocean. Only digital beaches on V-link.
The skyline shifts with each block, sleek skyscrapers transforming into high-rises topped with VitaCorp’s signature yellow glow. His building sits on the far edge of the district, which means another cramped train ride home.
He’s nearly at the HOV station when a squeal from behind halts him. Rafael’s pulse spikes.
A van drops from the air beside him, dust kicking up as the VitaCorp patrol HOV vanishes around the corner. Its frame has the sharp angles and chrome of any modern HOV, but the tan paint is streaked with rust, weapons bolted to the sides, and a strange insignia above the hood.
A chill runs down his spine.
Whispers from V-link flood back of HOVs like this belongingto street “gangs from the slums.” The warnings about them have always been the same:Run if you see them. Don’t get involved. Don’t even look too long. Yet fear keeps his feet frozen to the ground.
The HOV drops onto the street beside him, fans shrieking. Its side door hisses open, and Rafael sucks in a breath. A woman in cybernetic armor vaults out and bolts toward the station.
For a heartbeat, he breathes easier. She’s heading past him, not toward him. Then something cold and heavy presses against Rafael’s shoulder. His heart stutters.
“Stay silent, and we both walk away…”
3
Chapter 3 - Rafael
Rafael’s fingers curl at his sides. Every instinct screams to call for help, but the consequences play out in his head. He forces a nod. The metal at his shoulder presses harder, driving him forward.
“Move.”
His body reacts before his mind can catch up, carrying him toward the HOV. Stepping off the sidewalk, the woman stumbles behind, nearly dropping the rifle. She recovers to shove Rafael through the door. Knees buckling, he hits the carpeted floor, surrounded by unfamiliar technical equipment. He steadies himself and spins around. The gun is back at Rafael’s chest.
“Don’t touch anything.”
He remains silent, pulse hammering against his ribs.
The auto-door hisses shut shortly before the woman enters the front cabin with her weapon in plain view.
“Back to base, Pixie. Step on it,” she orders the driver. “Please.”
Within seconds, the ground shudders beneath him. TheHOV lurches forward, throwing Rafael backward. He braces against the floor, stopping himself from tumbling completely. Once steady, his wristlink catches his eye. A single tap, and authorities would be alerted.