Reese Halbrook's Arc

Chapter 1 of 1

Reese Halbrook had eleven credits and a broker to hunt. The broker had sold her mother's ration card six weeks ago, and her mother had starved to death waiting for a refill that never got approved. Now Reese stood outside the traders' hideout, counting coins she already knew fell short. The place squatted behind a wall of ivy, its cracked boards half-swallowed by creeping vines. Faded tarps hung over a broken window. Lanterns swung by the door. Inside, the traders sold everything and told nothing. The inner ring knew where the broker hid. To reach them, you paid. Reese couldn't pay. She slipped through the ivy and pressed against the boards. Through the broken window she watched a trader haggle over a burlap sack. On his belt hung a slim metal chip, edges lit blue and pink. She knew that shape. Traders kept their client ledgers on chips like that. Names. Locations. Everything the inner ring guarded. Leverage. Not money. That was the mistake. She waited until the trader stepped outside to piss against the wall. His hands were busy. Reese moved low, three steps, and lifted the chip from his belt with two fingers. He never turned. She was back in the ivy before he shook off. Then the vines shifted beside her. A mountain lion stood ten feet away, ribs sharp under a rough coat. It had been drawn by the food smell, or by her. Hungry things weren't picky. It lowered its head and watched her with flat yellow eyes. Reese didn't run. Running told a predator you were prey. She backed toward the hideout door, slow, keeping the cat in sight. Her hand closed on a clump of plants growing near the threshold, thick stems, blooms glowing sick green. Toxic. She'd seen what they did to scavengers. She tore a fistful loose and threw it. The blooms burst against the lion's face. It snarled, pawed at its snout, and bolted into the dark. Reese's heart slammed. Her palm burned where the sap touched skin. She wiped it hard on her leg and shoved through the door. The trader's shout came from behind her. He'd found his belt empty. Inside, faces turned. Reese held the chip up so every trader could see the light on its edges. "This has your ledger on it," she said. "Every name. Tell me where the broker went, and it stays quiet." The room went still. A woman near the counter set down her cup. "That's not yours to bargain with, girl." "It is now." Reese didn't blink. "Talk, or I sell it to whoever you cheated." The woman studied her a long moment. Then she named a place, low and fast, and the words landed hard in Reese's chest. She had her lead. But she'd stolen from the inner ring to get it. By morning, every trader in the district would know her face. And they'd be looking.