Data Runner by Sam A. Patel Page B

deep end, and you stayed afloat.”
    â€œI had help from Red Tail.”
    â€œAre you saying I haven’t been helping Pace?”
    â€œNo, of course not.”
    â€œBecause I’ve helped him out as much as I can. But I can’t keep holding his hand. I do have my own loads to carry, you know.”
    â€œI know.”
    â€œI dropped two loads a week to run with him, but I can’t afford to do that anymore. If Pace can’t do it on his own, he’s going to have to find another gig.
    â€œYeah, I hear you.” That’s when I see Pace coming up the street, jittery as hell and sweating bullets like he’s having a nervous breakdown, looking in every direction at once but nowhere in particular. It reminds me of Snake’s warning about not letting the hypervigilance take you over because that is exactly what’s happened. Pace has let the fear take control. “Pace!”
    He jumps like a frightened cat as he jerks his attention in our direction. This is bad , I think. Dex and I are barely ten feet away, and he didn’t even see us. He’s looking everywhere but not processing any of it, and he’s not seeing what’s right in front of his face.
    â€œHey guys. Hey, Jack. Hey, Dex.” Pace spins around like he’s checking the environment. Like he’s actually trying to take in every single variable at a downtown Free City intersection at the busiest time of day. “Hey, Jack,” he repeats, not even realizing it.
    I grab an energy bar from my bag and offer it to Pace even though I don’t think he’s in any condition to eat. Dex declines as well. I keep forgetting that they’re using regular old silicon chips with a built-in power source. Theirs don’t use metabolic energy like the cortex chip from Arcadian. Oh well, more for me. I tear it open and wolf it down, even though the three of us have met for lunch. There’s always room for more.
    A bit of construction noise from somewhere down the street causes Pace to grab his arm. Dex looks at him confused. “You’re loaded up right now?”
    Pace frantically scans the buildings around us like he’s looking for snipers. “I couldn’t make the drop.”
    â€œI left you five blocks from the drop-off point,” says Dexter. “What happened?”
    â€œThey were waiting for me,” he says. “They were waiting for me on the platform so I ran back into the tunnel.”
    Dex doesn’t say it but he’s obviously peeved.
    â€œIt was two against one,” says Pace. “What was I supposed to do?”
    Improvise , I think. Adapt .
    â€œSo you’re overdue,” says Dex. “Again.”
    â€œI thought you could come back with me and help me suss it out,” says Pace. “Just this once.”
    â€œCan’t do it this time,” says Dex. “If I’m even one minute late for my pickup this afternoon, they’ll abort the entire run. I can’t afford to lose that paycheck.”
    â€œSure, sure,” says Pace. “I understand.”
    There’s no question about it, Pace is a mess. I can’t let him go back to the sneakernet in this condition. He is after all a Dragon. And if nothing else, Dragons always look out for one another. “Don’t worry, Pace. I’ve got your back.”
    â€œYeah?”
    I nod.
    â€œYou sure?” Dex asks.
    â€œYeah, I got it.” We pound fists. “By the way…” I pull out my thin screen to check the balance in my account after the Wexler delivery. I’ve been running like hell for nearly a month. Twenty-seven days to be exact, to the detriment of everything else. Even PK club. For the past twenty-seven days, running data has been my only form of parkour. But in some strange way, the past twenty-seven days have shown me more than I ever thought I was capable of. Because for twenty-seven days, I have done the best parkour of my life. The best