Flight by Lindsay Leggett

reputation,” he says.
    I roll my eyes, wondering if it’s a compliment or not. “It’s all just a bit much for me right now. Anyway, I should get going. I’m supposed to take the night off because Myra thinks I’m a Ten-head now. Are you working all night again?”
    He whistles slowly, like he’s about to take the blame for me being caught. Thankfully he knows well enough to keep his mouth shut about it. No sense in getting both of us in trouble. In a place like this, you never really know who’s listening.
    “I’ll probably nod off in a few hours. I think you’ll feel better after a good night’s sleep, as well,” he says. I wave back at him as I jump down from the mezzanine toward the exit.
    “And Piper!” he calls.
    I turn back to face him.
    “Promise me you’ll talk to someone,” he finishes.
    I shake my head and continue walking, pulling out my book and shooting to my dog-eared bookmark. This section is called Letting Go . How fitting.

Chapter Ten
    It was his eighteenth birthday the last time I saw David smile. His laughter always filled up the room, almost like the glow of his teeth could warm you up inside. David. His hair was what my hair would look like if I wasn’t dye-crazy: a mousy, half-blond, half-brown. I remember he was growing out a beard, and no one at the party had the balls to tell him his chin hairs were covered in cake. They just kept snapping photos and passing around a salvaged bottle of wine.
    That was the thing about David. He was just a nice guy, but his burly form and bulging muscles scared the shit out of anyone not Corp-related. Even if they knew we both had the Hunter gene, there was always an uneasy silence, a layer of eggshells produced by human imagination. Mom was the obsessive hostess, ensuring everyone was fed and that every joke, every moment was documented for her scrapbooks. Nobody could have known that it would be his last birthday.
    Tor and I snuck off during presents to kiss and giggle in my bedroom while Shelley bounced around the party with my mom’s camera. Then the phone rang. Rupert.
    “We’ve got Harpy activity near the entrance to the old Sunhill metro station. Five counted. We need you now.”
    And that was it. The one night we wanted to take off. Our last night stolen. I ran downstairs and whispered the situation in David’s ear. He sighed deeply, and even though I could feel his frustration he kept a smile plastered on his face. He got all the patience when he was born, I’m convinced of it. By the time I came around there wasn’t much left.
    “Sorry everyone, but Piper and I have an emergency meeting. Thank you all for being here, and please continue on. I’m sure Mom made enough food for all of Central.” The room swelled with laughter, and no questions were asked. Kisses goodbye were followed by suiting up into Rad-gear, knives, crossbow and guns strapped into loops.
    “You ready for this?” David asked me before we exited through the back door. I nodded. He was always more cautious, more prepared. He pulled out a tiny pen needle from his pocket filled with cloudy liquid and I winced as he stuck it into his leg. Relief flooded his face. Turning his glazed eyes to me, he held out the needle, offering it to me.
    “Want some?” he asked. I’d seen this vial before, but I didn’t know what it was. Some kind of Corp enhancement drug, probably.
    “No. Let’s go before those birds get into the underground,” I muttered. We raced off into the night, a silent question circulating my mind, one that still exists now like a virus. If only I’d thought to dig deeper, to ask him about that needle, then maybe things would’ve been different. Maybe he’d still be alive.

    The morning of the anniversary, I don’t want to wake up. Tense balls of anxiety build up in my chest as the Holo-sun begins to rise, signalling that it’s been an entire year since… Well, you know.
    Just move on with your life! I scream at myself, but it’s not so easy.