The sound of the articulated metal bands of tank-like tread scraping against the asphalt screeched through the air.

"There we are," she rasped. Closing her eyes, she let out a long, slow breath. The steady pulse of her heart seemed to thrum in her throat. She licked her dry lips and opened her eyes to watch.

Kira crouched in the broken window, looking out onto the road from five floors up, squinting in the dust swirling up from the streets. Her ratty hair hung in her eyes as she watched carefully for the truck to come by. Early evening was best for poaching; there was sure to be something on that cluttertruck she needed. She dropped her hoverboard onto the landing of the fire escape and set her feet into the piloting docks.

The triangular board leaned to one side, resting against the metal grating. The railings were gone so it would be a clean jump to the street when the time came. She just hoped her old board could take it; she hadn't had a chance to tinker it up since the last crash and it'd been running sluggishly all week without a working cuplink. TS-320s weren't made for this kind of punishment.

The truck was pulling into view. The driver wasn't paying close attention to his surroundings; other scavengers were lurking and he rode through so slowly. Her cyberware implants kicked in and three patches of red flashed from windows along the road. Other people were primed for the strike.

"Not this time," she growled, pulling one of her safety boots free from her hoverboard. “It's mine.”

She kicked the brick wall behind her for momentum and she skittered across the fire escape. The hoverboard's reactor kicked just as she sailed over the edge. The world flew up at her as her weight pushed against the weak startup energy burst. Kicking furiously, she tried to get her boot securely in its dock on the board, but the heel was catching oddly. She tried to swallow the lump in her throat as the asphalt came closer and closer. She crouched down, her arms flying up to cover her head in case of impact.

As the board hit equilibrium a few feet above the concrete, she was thrown off balance and banked hard to the right, twisting her ankle. Straightening up with a squeak, she banked left again and shot toward the cluttertruck. Jumping from the board deck to the ground, she stumbled the last few feet. The truck stood monolithically before her, the driver paying her no attention.

The empty thud of her board hitting the ground was the only thing she could hear above her heartbeat; it was a risk leaving it behind. She pulled out a small injector and shot the needle at the driver's neck. It was primitive, but it got the job done quickly. Automatically, the truck came to a full stop, the driver slumping forward in his seat. Two figures on hoverboards were already in the bed of the truck tossing used tech around like garbage.

Another poacher shot past her and she half-ran, half-limped up to the driver to check his pulse. Kira didn't like the idea of offing someone just because she needed a quick buck; she'd leave that to the convicts and the pros. Climbing up the tread, she reached a hand through the holographic window and felt the man's neck for a pulse. He felt like cold plastic.

“Android,” she whispered jumping down from the tread onto her good foot. She pressed a button on her safety boot and her board slid forward to catch up to her. Reaching to her hurt ankle, she pressed another button letting the auto-ejecting bandage stabilize her foot. It was still a mess, but now at least she could walk. She collapsed the board and folded it in half, locking all four wings together before she slid it into her backpack.

There were a couple shouts from the bed and pieces of tech flew back and forth before one of the poachers shot back out of the truck and sped down the street.

“Nice one, Kira,” someone shouted from the cavity of the truck. A small round object hurled over the side of the bed and landed by her feet. A cuplink. “Saved that for you. You want part of the take, or are you just gonna stand there?”

Kira laughed curtly, plucked up the cuplink and climbed the back of the truck slowly. Two sets of hands grabbed her and pulled her into the compartment.

“I told you you couldn't take a cluttertruck by yourself,” a second voice laughed. “Is the driver dead or stunned?”

Kira shook her head and looked at the girl talking to her. A hint of a smile remained on the girl's face for just a moment. She ran both of her gloved hands over her spiked hair and spat on the ground. The boy standing next to her stared at Kira for a moment and nodded.

“Get what you can, Dance. We'll sort through it when we get there. Kira, how long do you figure we have before the damn machine starts up again?” he said. He didn't wait for the answer before he began picking up stray pieces of tech and tossing them into his backpack.

“Maybe another minute or two,” Kira shouted over the sound of shifting junk. “Grab that hoverboard deck, mine needs some repairs.”

“It's already been gutted, Kir,” Dance called over her shoulder, stuffing the deck into her pack anyway. “One of Ellyott's girls got here before we scared her off.”

“I never said it had to be pretty.”

Kira was pulling out tech pieces and tossing them aside. It was such a waste what those with money would throw out. More than half the parts on a cluttertruck were salvageable. Nestled into a pile of used game decks she found a couple vials with removed implants. She pocketed them quickly and began searching in another stack.

“Nothing like filching a good salvage from the city,” Dance laughed as she ripped a handful of wires from an old-fashioned stereo. “They're just gonna refurbish and resell it anyway. It's a decent scam, really. Got to respect them for that.”

Kira was examining a slightly damaged tazer. “Yeah, so you've said. You think I could tinker this up to work again?”

“Lemmie see it,” the boy offered and plucked it out of her hand. “Looks like most of the damage is superficial, but it needs a core, guess they saved it.”

Kira nodded. “Toss it in your bag, I'll see if any of my goodies can spare a few parts for it.” She climbed further into the belly of the truck where some of the larger pieces were.

Dance smiled up at her for a moment before she began gutting another hoverboard deck. “Need this in case that TS-320 stalls out on you, right, Kir?”

“Yeah, the day pigs grow wings. Better than your 260. Deltas are so out of date they've been deemed fashionably retro three times.” Kira pulled some stabilizers from the pile and tossed them in her bag. “Rol, these will fetch a pretty good price once I clean 'em up.”

“I bet I'll beat you back to the building once we're out of here,” Dance teased.

“I'll kick your--”

“Shut up!” The boy stood up and looked at the front of the truck. The distinct sound of the power supply being restored sliced through the air. “Off the truck, now!"

A plexiglass top began to slide over the back of the truck, intending to trap them. Dance and Rolland both jumped on their abandoned hoverboards and shot toward the sky, leaving Kira hastily shoving wires in her pocket.

She looked up and ran to the far end of the truck's bed and jumped to try and reach the top of its back gate. Her finger tips brushed the edge painfully bouncing along the steel as she slid back down the gate. A hot spasm rocketed up her leg as she landed on her hurt ankle.

“Kira, get out of there!”

“I'd love to!” she screamed as she climbed the ladder on the gate. The truck was rumbling under her feet, bouncing her as she clung to the metal bars. With a final push, she flung herself over the top of the gate. Her hands were already gripping on of the hand holds on the other side, but as her legs came over the top her toe connected with the solid plexiglass of the cover.

The ground was a blur underneath her as she looked down, the cluttertruck was already gaining speed. She wedged one of her feet into a foothold. Her attack tripped an anti-theft sensor and now the truck was making its way out of the streets as fast as legally possible. Dance and Rolland were tailing the truck but neither of their boards were fast enough to stop it again.

“Rol!” Kira screamed back to him, “Catch!”

She carefully pulled off her backpack, trying not to fall from her precarious perch, and flung it at him. She blinked her implants on and watched the bag arc through the air. She let out a soft gasp as Rolland reached out and grabbed it, spinning his board to lose its momentum.

Dance sped up as much as she could. “Tuck your neck in and just let yourself roll!”

Kira nodded, taking a deep breath she kicked off from the gate and let go of the bar she was hanging on to. Her shoulder hit the pavement first, it was a moment of painful numbness filled with the sound of shredding fabric. She was still moving, adrenaline surging through her. It felt as if she were being dragged by the truck.

Her legs hit next and she curled up tightly, letting herself tumble end over end, arms protecting her head. She still couldn't breathe. The back of her head cracked against the pavement. One final turn and she fell onto her back.

Rolland and Dance jumped off of their boards and ran up to Kira. Dance dropped to her knees and pulled out a half-dose of morphine to cut the pain. She injected it into Kira's neck before rolling her onto her side to check the damage. The green light of her implants was visible in her pupils and she was shaking.

“You with us, Kir?” Dance said reaching in her hip-pocket for some bandages. “That looked wicked nasty.”

Kira could only blink her eyes. The world flashed around her in shades of green. Her implants were misfiring and a patchy info-feed came through. The broken windows were flashing red without anyone in them. Bricks in the dilapidated buildings were supposedly moving. She tried to blink the implants off but they still flared up information.

“Yeah,” she coughed finally. “It felt kinda nasty.” Dance helped her up into a sitting position. Looking back at her shoulder, she groaned. “I think I need a new coat, huh?”

Dance nodded without looking up; she was fitting small square bandages over the exposed skin, taping them together in a patchwork. She pulled another half-dose of morphine from her pocket. “How're you feeling, Kir?”

“Oh, great! I think I'm going to take up truck diving. It's so much more extreme than bungee jumping. I may even do it tomorrow just for kicks,” she whispered. “How do you think I feel? Gimmie that or I'm going home with someone else.”

Dance injected the drug in Kira's neck then helped her slowly to her feet. She shook her head and laughed, “Nobody here but us chickens tonight. How's your head?”

“It's still sitting on my shoulders isn't it? Doesn't feel like it though.”

Rolland stood on his board and helped Dance get kira situated on her own in front of him. While Dance had patched her up, he'd taken Kira's board out of her bag and docked it to his. Once her feet were secured, Rolland maneuvered the two boards a few feet up. He held onto Kira's waist and helped her glide through the streets toward their building.

“Did you get my stuff?” she asked quietly as Rolland stopped them in front of an old storefront.

“It's here. How's the morphine working for you?” he asked, letting the boards touch down.

Kira fell back against him lifelessly. “It makes me not breathe.” She turned her head to look up at him. “Once I got over the not breathing thing, though, it starts to feels really good. But I'm not too sure I can help y'all fence the stuff tonight.”

“Foodage!”

Kira shuttered and slowly sat up on the couch. Sticky with ointment, her shoulder felt like it was covered in grease, the pain only a slight ache with her pulse. She rolled her neck slowly and felt the bandages over her eyes. The morphine was sill running hot through her system, so the world was nothing but slow, soft sounds she had to think about to understand.

Dance's voice was coming from across the room, echoing softly in the empty space, “If you bought any more of that soy cr--”

“I got burgers!” Bijan said over her obscenity.

Kira scrunched up her face and tried to talk, but her tongue seemed big and heavy. “d'jo guyss takes ou' mah 'mplantss?”

The sound of people running seemed to tumble in her head and she felt people on either side of her. A pair of warm, oily lips kissed her cheek and whispered surprisingly loudly in her ear: “It's okay Kir, we're tinkering something up but those implants were D-O-A. It's gonna take a day to get your eyes better, though.”

“Bi-an? 'Jo ga burg?” Her tongue felt so awkward. She scrunched her nose and leaned against Bijan, her head resting on his shoulder.

“It's okay, Kir, don't talk, that 'phine is really doing a number on you tonight,” Dance whispered, placing her hand on Kira's good shoulder. “I'll get you a burger.”

“Rooold?”

Bijan slowly slid his arm around her waist. “Rol's out fencing more of the stuff he and Dance got. Figured we'd save your bag until we get your eyes back online.”