Soon, she’d have no choice. Mari’s body was giving out. If she stopped now, she’d probably fall flat on her face. Only sheer momentum kept her upright.

“Urgh!” A gasp of frustration tore through her throat as she entered Dead Fish Row, named that way because most of its inhabitants drank like fish… and sooner or later, they ended up dead.

Most of the windows were dark, but there was one guy who always kept his light on.

Mad Jeff. For unknown reasons, he detested the darkness, and being paranoid, he collected guns. They weren’t the fancy, modern, high-energy bolt types used by the military and high-grade mercenaries. Nobody who lived in the Dust Alleys could afford things like that. No, Jeff’s guns were of the old-fashioned, historical, highly illegal type. They shot actual metal bullets, and he wasn’t afraid to use them.

Perfect. If she couldn’t run anymore, then at least she could lead her pursuer to the one place in the Dust Alleys he might think twice about entering.

Breathing heavily, she tapped on the door. “Oi, Uncle Jeff!” He wasn’t really her uncle, but in this place, everybody above a certain age was referred to as uncle or aunt.

Silence. Any minute now, the implacable stranger would appear behind her. Feeling nauseous, Mari doubled over. She’d run so hard she felt like throwing up. “Oh, bloody hell, will ya just let me in this once? It’s me, Maribel, and you know I don’t work for the government.” She’d lapsed back into her native Eskulin, the language of the streets.

The door opened.

She stumbled inside, almost sobbing in relief. A sharp metallic click made her look up. There stood Mad Jeff, scrutinizing her with narrowed eyes as he pointed one of his ancient metal guns at her.

Mari straightened. “You’re not going to shoot me, are you, Uncle?”

Jeff inclined his head, furrowing his brow. Salt-and-pepper eyebrows knit together. Pale grey eyes narrowed. “Depends. You workin’ for the government?”

“You know I ain’t.” Mari crossed her arms indignantly. “I just need a place to lay low for a while.”

“You runnin’ from the government?”

“Er, I suppose you could say that.”

Mad Jeff’s bearded face split into a wide grin. “In that case, be my guest, Blue.”

That was when all hell broke loose.

Chapter Seven

A booted foot kicked in Mad Jeff’s steel door. Poor Jeff hadn’t had time to close the e-bolts after Mari’s intrusion, so he did what was apparently the next best thing.

He fired.

Inside the tiny domicile, the noise was deafening. Mari instinctively dropped to the floor. A soft grunt of pain reached her ears, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw a black shadow surging toward Mad Jeff.

“No!” she screamed, horror coursing through her. She hadn’t expected her pursuer to actually find her.

Not in the Dust Alleys, and especially not in Dead Fish Row, where it was easy for a soul to disappear for days on end.

How the hell had he been able to follow her into the most poorly mapped urban zone on Earth?

Mari got up onto her knees, her eyes widening as she saw her mysterious attacker swiftly disarm and immobilize Mad Jeff.

Holy crap. Such speed! The metal gun clattered to the floor. Jeff dropped to his knees, howling in pain.

The man bent and picked up Jeff’s gun, but instead of pointing it at her, he studied it carefully before concealing it somewhere on his person.

Mari reached into her belt-pouch and brought out the alien-metal pendant, dangling it from her hand. “Here. T-take it.” The stupid thing had proven to be much more trouble than it could ever possibly be worth. “Just don’t hurt him. Please don’t hurt him.”

Stupid, stupid Mari. She never would have thought that such a simple act of thievery would turn into a such a nightmare.

And now she’d dragged an innocent into her mess.

“I told you they were coming,” Jeff whimpered, staggering to his feet. He backed away slowly, never once taking his eyes off the stranger. “They’re going to rule this place, you know. We don’t stand a chance.” A less-than-sane laugh burst from his lips.