Deadly in Pink

by Matthew A Goodwin

  LOTP, the pharmaceutical giant, had no competition in the city and sold its medicines for costs that kept people in need from being able to afford anything else. Metric explained that the people who owned the shop either stole or fabricated knockoffs and sold them for slightly cheaper (though still exorbitant) prices.

  “Won’t the people who need these drugs be fucked if we steal them?” Ynna had asked, wondering if they should pick a different target.

  Metric laughed. “If you think they won’t replenish the next day, I’ve got a bridge to sell you.”

  Whitney chimed in, “This is just one small front for a much larger operation. Whatever we jack is small for them, though it will be a boon for us. Plus, they’re gross.”

  That made Ynna feel better. She did worry about angering whoever owned the shop, but that was going to be inevitable no matter who they robbed.

  “So, we all feel good about the plan?” Metric asked.

  Heads nodded all around.

  “Good,” he said.

  “Let’s start to get rich,” Whitney said in a strange robotic voice. She had pulled her black mask over her face, and the audio augmenter worked well.

  It was closer to morning than to sunset, and the streets were mostly empty except for the few people smoking and drinking outside of The Sodiac Bar.

  They took no note of the four people skulking through the alleys clad in all black, and Ynna was relieved when she saw their target. It looked like every other closed shop on the street: barred windows with the faint glow of electronics flickering within.

  Garbage blew down the street in the wind as they made sure the coast was clear.

  It was. They ducked behind parked cars and trash cans as they darted toward the storefront. A streetlight flickered, and Ynna’s heart nearly burst from her chest.

  They all pulled out their weapons as Whitney took the lead with Pes by her side. They looked at one another nervously, though all they could see of each other were the eyes.

  Ynna set the lenses to thermal imaging and saw the red visage of the one guard through the wall. She held up one finger to Whitney and nodded. Pes moved up to the door and was now fully illuminated under the streetlight. Whitney stood at her shoulder with her weapon primed. They had watched the guards at the keypad all day and had the code memorized.

  If the guard within was watching monitors, all he would see was some slight distortion. Ynna was pleased that Killian had provided such expensive equipment. They all shifted nervously as Pes nodded, too, and punched in the code.

  A light flashed red.

  “Shit,” Pes hissed.

  She tried again.

  Red.

  Metric and Ynna hurried over.

  “It isn’t working,” Pes whispered, fear and disappointment in her words.

  Metric stayed calm. “Probably a separate code overnight. Guess we aren’t the first to try this.”

  It made sense, but Ynna was terrified. They were exposed, and this was already taking too long.

  Metric produced a tablet and got to work hacking the lock.

  Ynna felt the perspiration soak her as she looked up and down the street for any activity.

  She turned to watch the screen as it attempted iteration after iteration of the code.

  Her heart leaped from her chest as she heard a crunch from down the street, and all eyes turned as a man rounded a corner. Whitney pointed her weapon with a tremulous hand, ready to stun the man. Even as he looked down the street, he didn’t seem to notice them.

  Metric breathed a sigh of relief as the man swung an arm and Ynna turned to him quizzically.

  “AR,” Metric told them. “Guy’s probably in a castle fighting goblins or something.”

  Ynna had never been happier with people’s addiction to technology. The man continued past them, his eyes black and augmented ears glowing.

  They were as good as invisible.

  The relief was short-lived as the lock flashed green.

  “Here we go,” Pes whispered and pushed the door open.

  Whitney burst through with her gun raised.

  The man’s eyes went wide as the room filled with the white light of Whitney’s shot. The beam struck him in the neck, and he began to convulse wildly as the room filled with the smell of burned flesh. His body shook as he fell to the floor, the chair he had been sitting on sliding across the floor.

  Whitney was frozen as the others moved in.

  Metric walked toward the back door as Ynna looked up from the guard breathing quietly on the ground.

  “Metric,” she called out, but it was too late.

  As he opened the door, a red blur in the lenses leaped toward his neck.

  He raised his arms defensively, and the dog bit down on his right forearm. He shrieked with pain, and both Ynna and Pes turned quickly to the door to see if anyone was coming. Whitney snapped out of her trance and fired again, striking Metric in the back. His armor dissipated the shot, but enough was left to make him go rigid.

  The dog thrashed, sending spit and blood spraying around the room. Pes rushed over to try and pull the creature off, but it was no use.

  “Out of the way,” Whitney cried and fired just as Pes stepped aside.

  The beam hit the dog, and the massive amount of energy loosed his grip instantly. Metric and the dog collapsed to the floor together, the animal breathing shallowly.

  Blood seeped down Metrics arm. He was pale, and his eyes wild.

  “We have to get out of here,” Pes screamed.

  “Get him moving toward The Press, we’ll get the goods and be right behind,” Ynna said. Whitney looked rattled but nodded vigorously.

  Pes looked at her in shock. “You want to stay?”

  “This isn’t going to be for nothing, now get him moving,” Ynna ordered, and Pes helped her brother to his feet.

  Ynna turned to Whitney. “Come on, Friendly Fire,” she said and gave her a little slap.

  Whitney blinked and followed Ynna to the back room.

  Wire rack shelving units filled the space, and Ynna switched her lenses to a mode that Rose had programmed and called “blueprint variation detection.”

  Rose had explained that she had created it to find hidden spots around the school to hide but that it could be used to spot hidden compartments in buildings. That had been the moment Ynna had truly accepted that Rose was wise to her plan.

  The lenses displayed a digital image of what the building should be, overlaid with what it was. A place under a floorboard glowed an incandescent white. Ynna knelt and saw a bent nail worn smooth and pulled it, the wood board coming up on a hinge.

  “Whoa,” Whitney murmured.

  Ynna looked up at her from the plastic bags filled with pills. “Your standing around looking pretty days are over, hand me that fucking duffle,” she barked.

  Whitney sulked. “You’re mean under pressure.”

  “I’d rather be mean than slow,” Ynna said, raising a hand expectantly.

  Whitney unslung the bag from her back and handed it down.

  “I’ll watch your back,” Whitney said, turning to face the door.

  “Don’t you mean my ass?” Ynna joked.

  Whitney looked over her shoulder, her eyes smiling under the mask. “I thought that was implied.”

  Ynna chuckled as she put the last of the bags into the duffle.

  “Let’s get the fuck out of here,” she said, standing and moving toward the door.

  “You’ll get no argument from me,” Whitney agreed as they moved through the store onto the street.

  “Hey!” A voice boomed at them from an idling truck.

  “Shit!” Whitney exclaimed as she started running, Ynna right behind.

  They heard the truck accelerate quickly in their direction.

  They ducked into a narrow alleyway, hopping over trash bags and empty crates as they made their escape. Ynna had never been so scared or exhilarated in her life.

  When they reached The Press, it was quiet. The smell o
f baking bread from one electric oven filled their noses. Thick wires coiled like vines up to the roof to a solar panel that powered the oven.

  Once inside the security of the building, Whitney pulled her mask off and turned with a smile to Ynna.

  She embraced her. “We did it,” Whitney whispered in her ear, and a man sleeping under a plastic tarp shifted at the noise.

  “Let’s check on Met,” Ynna said, pulling away.

  She was pleased that they had been successful but loathed the mistakes.

  She pulled away from the hug and moved to their corner, where Pes was wrapping Metric’s arm.

  He looked up at them. “Actually, it isn’t so bad. The armor did its thing.” He gave them a weak smile.

  Whitney rushed over to hug him, knocking him back into the couch.

  “I’m so sorry,” she pleaded for forgiveness.

  “It’s okay,” he soothed. “We did great for our first time.”

  “There is a lot we can learn from this,” Ynna pointed out, and the others ignored her. They seemed too happy at the prospect of their earnings to care what she had to say. “Good job, everyone,” she amended. There would be time later to discuss their mistakes.

  “Sure,” Pes snorted, but Whitney and Metric smiled.

  Once they had wrapped Metric’s wound and stashed their loot, Pes produced an unmarked jug of brown liquid. The jug moved around the circle a few times, and before long, they were all joking and laughing, red-faced and red-eyed.

  Ynna sneezed herself awake, and her head throbbed worse than it ever had in her life.

  She turned to vomit and saw a drying stain next to where she lay. She knew it had been a long night and morning.

  “Shit,” she mumbled to herself, wiping her lips.

  The smell of sick filled her nose. She looked around and saw her armored clothes neatly folded nearby. Looking down, she realized she was in a long shirt, soaked in sweat with a unicorn on the front.

  “You said it’d look good with your hair,” Pes chuckled, and Ynna blinked to bring her into focus.

  Her hand was extended with a cup of steaming liquid.

  Ynna took it graciously. “Thanks.”

  “No problem,” Pes said. “Both our parents were drunks, so we can hold our liquor. Same can’t be said for you two.”

  She nodded over Ynna’s shoulder, and she turned to see Whitney and Metric in a sleeping bag with clothes strewn all about them.

  “She finally told him how she felt last night,” Pes informed her. “It’s been obvious for so long, but boys are stupid and need to be hit over the head with that shit.”

  Ynna nodded. Even the slight movement sent waves of pain through her head. She sipped at the coffee and tasted the booze mixed in.

  Pes saw the reaction and smirked. “Hair of the dog.”

  “Right,” Ynna croaked and sent the rest of the cup down her gullet.

  She looked back at Whitney and smiled, happy her friend had finally gotten what she wanted, even if she wouldn’t remember it.

  “Just chip my earnings. I have to check in with my mom,” Ynna said to Pes.

  “We got you,” Pes smiled, and Ynna turned on shaky legs.

  “Thanks,” Ynna said over her shoulder as she left.

  She stopped at the apartment to splash water on her face, wash the puke from her hair, and change.

  When she reached the diner, Karen rushed out from behind the counter and wrapped her up.

  “I was so worried,” she told Ynna.

  She gripped her daughter’s shoulders and moved to appraise her. “You look as bad as you smell.”

  “Sorry, mom,” Ynna said with a hangdog expression. “Just out with friends.”

  To Ynna’s surprise, her mom smiled. “I’m just happy you’re alright. And I’m happy you are making friends. But if you are going to be out all-night drinking, you have to tell me.”

  Ynna chuckled. “Fair enough.”

  Karen stared at her. “You’re getting so grown up.”

  Ynna groaned with embarrassment. “Oh, mom.”

  “It’s true,” Karen said. “You think we could have dinner together this weekend? Maybe you could stop by here, and I could take a long break.”

  “Sure.” Ynna smiled. “That would be nice.”

  “Good,” Karen affirmed. “It’s a date. I think I want to get to know this new you.”

  “I’m still just me, mom,” Ynna told her.

  Karen reached out and put a hand on Ynna’s cheek. “Oh, honey. Your lies may have worked on your father, but they never worked on me.”

  Ynna laughed. “I know.”

  “Anyway, it’s also…” Karen began.

  “Also, what?”

  “It’s also your birthday,” Karen told her.

  Ynna thought about it.

  She was right.

  Ynna had been so consumed with Hector and her plans that she had entirely neglected her own birthday. She laughed to herself that a cheap dinner and a piece of pie with her mother sounded like a perfect celebration.

  For her sixteenth, her father had rented the most expensive ballroom at the Van Orlock Hotel, hiring steam machines and holoprojectors to turn the dance floor into an Amazon jungle. Robot jaguars stalked the floors, and guests fed cloned sloths. The adults drank and took drugs, pretending to chaperone while the teens pretended not to drink and do drugs.

  It had been the peak of opulence, and now, standing in a decrepit diner with stained floors, Ynna couldn’t imagine a worse party.

  Chapter 10

  The next week was the most thrilling and terrifying of Ynna’s life. She spent her days scouting targets and her nights robbing them. Even after dividing the profits four ways and giving Killian his cut, they all took home more money than they had in the past several months.

  They were getting more confident with each job and taking the time to plan for the unexpected. They had a swagger when walking into The Press, and they were happy.

  Things had progressed with Metric and Whitney, too. After their night together, Ynna had caught them making eyes at each other, holding hands, and stealing kisses when they thought no one was looking.

  Ynna thought it was cute and pulled Whitney aside after a job one night to say, “I’m really happy for you.”

  Whitney beamed. “It’s kinda your fault.”

  Ynna blanched. “How’s that?”

  “When you first showed up, you know I was jealous. I didn’t like that you are prettier, and when you came up with this genius plan, I didn’t like that you were smarter, too.

  “But I saw that you were determined to get what you wanted and in some drunken haze, decided to be like you. Without meaning to, you inspired me.”

  Ynna felt her face flush. “I’m happy it worked out.”

  “It really did. And,” Whitney checked to make sure Metric was out of earshot, “you’ve inspired us all. We talk about it all the time. Met will always think of himself as our leader, and it’s best if he does, but we were floundering before you came along. Now, we have a purpose, cash in our pockets, and a true leader.”

  Ynna could hardly take the compliments.

  She knew Whitney was correct and had felt herself becoming a strong woman, but hearing it put to words was almost too much.

  “Thank you for saying that,” Ynna said, and she meant it.

  “Killian also says you’re becoming a really good shot,” Whitney added.

  Ynna agreed. “I’ve been going with him every day, and I’m getting better. It’s funny, my whole life I’ve been just okay at things. I mean, I was popular but never particularly good at school or sports or anything. But now, for the first time, I feel like I’ve found something I do well.”

  Whitney smiled and gave her a pat on the backside. “You have, and you lift the rest of us to your level.”

  Ynna let her face fall flat. “Thanks for that.”

  Whitney smirked. “Any time.”

  “I’m going to take tomorrow night off,” Ynn
a said, changing the subject. “Going to have dinner with my mom.”

  “Ooh, la la,” Whitney joked and made a knowing face. “Celebrating the big birthday?”

  “What?” Ynna shrieked. “How do you know that?”

  “I didn’t say you were the only clever one in this little crew,” Whitney was trying to hold back her brimming elation.

  “Fine,” Ynna said. “So you know the secret. Just don’t get me anything, okay?”

  “Too late!” Whitney squealed.

  She handed Ynna an envelope.

  “It’s from all of us,” Whitney told her.

  Ynna looked at Whitney, her heart full. “Thank you. For everything.”

  “Sappy isn’t a good look on you. Just open it,” Whitney said, but it was obvious that she was happy.

  Ynna opened the card. Handwritten inside was a brief note saying, “To the baddest bitch on the block. Now you can conquer the world in style.” Beneath the words was a printed barcode and logo of a hair salon.

  “We all know you want a microdye, so we pooled our money to get you this. Nanite technology at its finest: being used for woman’s fashion,” Whitney joked, but they both knew that it was as thoughtful a gift, as it was expensive.

  Ynna just stared at it, her eyes welling. “It’s too much.”

  Whitney let out a laugh. “Shit, man. You’re the only reason we were able to afford it!”

  “Thanks,” was all she could muster, and she pulled her mask on to cover the tears.

  The run went smoothly, but Ynna could not sleep well on the eve of her birthday. She was consumed with conflicting emotions. She hadn’t slept well since Hector had been taken, and the combination of fear and joy made her restless.

  She rolled over, thinking she heard a noise.

  In a half-asleep daze, she looked around the room and noticed the door was open.

  Her heart raced as she tried to remember if she had left it open for the cat. Everything was still in its place as she stood cautiously, Karen snoring under the covers.

  Her mother slept well, perpetually exhausted from working as much as she did.