Shadowrun

by Dylan Birtolo

  Holding a hairband between her teeth, she smoothed her dreadlocks into a bunch at the crown of her head, then wrapped them in place with a little tug to keep them secure. She took a deep, long breath and shook herself out. She needed to get rid of this worry before she got home, or her family would pick up on it. They always picked up when she was worried. Except this time, they would start asking questions she didn’t want to answer, and Frostburn didn’t like lying to her family.

  Well, she wasn’t lying, per se. She just didn’t correct them when they assumed she still worked as a corporate magical security officer.

  When NeoNET, the corporation that had employed her until recently, had crashed, Frostburn had panicked. Working for the corporation had become a literal lifeline for her and her family. All of a sudden, she could buy her mom a house of her own, in a safe neighborhood away from—or at least just across the border from—the Redmond Barrens. They were able to afford medicine that kept her mom alive a little longer than she otherwise would have been able. The doctors said they would have a good couple of years more with her, just make sure she kept taking that medicine. Facing the prospect of losing that security was more than Frostburn was willing to deal with.

  She had made a call to the headhunter who had approached her months earlier. At least, “headhunter” was what Frostburn assumed was the pretty troll’s title. She had handed over a business card and said to give her a call if Frostburn ever needed or wanted a change of pace. Frostburn thought maybe the troll could at least help her find a way out of her non-competitive agreement—did it even matter anymore when the corp that made her sign the agreement had dissolved? Better yet, maybe she could help her get her a replacement corp job that paid similarly.

  Instead, the troll—who called herself Ms. Myth—had introduced Frostburn to the lucrative and dangerous world of shadowrunning. Frostburn began to earn more than she’d thought possible, but at no small cost to her sense of staying honest with people close to her. Her whole family had naturally assumed she’d gotten work with another corp, particularly when she earned enough to move her aunt and cousins into the house in Snohomish after Frostburn’s mother passed. Though she had initially considered finding another corp job, ultimately she decided against it. At least working in the shadows made her something of her own boss, but to be honest, she was satisfied to have finally found work that both paid the bills and gave her a thrill.

  Ms. Myth had introduced the employment opportunity to the newly-unemployed Frostburn as “not exactly legal.” The phrase had given her pause at first, because back when Frostburn went through her magical Awakening, she’d become the Girl Who Couldn’t Lose: Corporations wanted her. Colleges wanted her. And once she graduated from college, she became the Girl With a Steady Paycheck. She could buy her mom a house—a whole house!—in a neighborhood that wasn’t the Barrens. Through it all, though, Frostburn had always been the Stand-up Kid Who Did the Right Thing. Did she really want to become the Girl Who Has to Hide What She Does?

  As Frostburn’s car glided off one freeway and onto another, the route wound her between the largely working-class neighborhoods of Snohomish to her left and the hellscape that was Redmond to her right. The shades of golds and reds in the sunset shifted and glinted with the change in direction. The colors shifted her thoughts back to the memory of the flames—flames that, in all likelihood, served as retribution for their actions. The tentative connections forming between the Girl Who Has to Hide and the Girl With the Steady Paycheck gave her pause again, and she shoved the troublesome thoughts away.

  I’ve got to get back to the team, she told herself. We’ve got drek to do. Just a short visit, make sure the fam’s okay, and back to work. Tonight if possible; otherwise, first thing tomorrow morning.

  Forty minutes later, the sun had disappeared behind the horizon and the headlights came on automatically, illuminating the road as she turned into her family’s driveway. The car chimed arriving at her destination as it rolled to a stop, , and Frostburn’s heart hiccuped. Draped across the garage above the opened doors was a hastily hand-painted banner that read “WELCOME HOME.” Crowds of people were packed around tables inside the garage; some she recognized as her relatives, others she didn’t know at all. They all cheered her arrival.

  Frag.

  Frostburn crouched before a tiny girl she thought might be her second-cousin Ida. In her outstretched hand was a small, blue, plastic wolf figurine. Too much time in the heat of her car’s glove box had warped the animal’s limbs, so it stood on splayed legs that curved out and back to meet the base, like a cartoon caricature of bowlegs. Ida didn’t seem to mind. She stared at the trinket, enraptured, with wide, brown eyes.

  “You, my dear,” Frostburn said, “are the proud recipient of the Wolf of Courage.”She looked over the plastic, cereal-box toy, the last thing she was able to scrounge up to serve as a gift for the horde of kids that swarmed her car upon her arrival. One of the crowd got the remaining package of her shower wipes, and another group of them ran off happily and excitedly fussing over a still-wrapped carton of NERPs, arguing over who got what. Once the tide of children had receded, there stood little Ida, shy and gift-less. Frostburn’s heart melted a little and, although it had taken her a good five minutes to find another present, she was grateful to have scrounged up this figurine.

  Frostburn presented the Wolf of Courage to Ida, reverently holding it out to the little girl with her head bowed. But then, an impulse took hold of Frostburn. She clasped her hands around the toy and snatched it back close to herself. She pierced Ida with a fierce expression and said, with far too much urgency for the occasion, “Seize the power of the Wolf, oh Courageous One!” and thrust the toy back at the little girl.

  Ida recoiled from her exaggerated performance, and her lower lip began to tremble.

  Regret and embarrassment flushed through Frostburn, and she melted down onto her knees, cooing, “No, baby, please don’t cry. I’m sorry, I was just trying to be silly, and I failed miserably. I didn’t mean to scare you. Please don’t cry.”

  With a wary glance up at Frostburn, Ida sniffled a little and wiped her nose on her sleeve. Then she reached up slowly, snatched the toy, and ran off as fast as she could around the side of the garage. A few seconds later, Ida peeked out and studied Frostburn from behind her cover, a look of utmost distrust on her small face.

  Frostburn hung her head and sighed.

  “Scaring babies for fun now, are we?”

  Frostburn looked up, then jumped to her feet. “Holy drek, Emilia? It’s been forever! It’s good to see you!” she said as she stretched her arms wide for a hug.

  The younger ork woman shook her ash blond curls with a mirthless chuckle and took a step back, her palms held out. “Yeah, I’m not much of a hugger.”

  “Oh,” Frostburn said and started back, embarrassed. “Sorry. I’m just happy to see you is all. Man, it’s been forever! I haven’t seen you in...what—”

  “Yup, it’s been a while,” Emilia said in a bored tone. She crossed her arms over her chest and took a drag off her cigarette as she scanned the street.

  Frostburn nodded and shoved away a pang of hurt. She and Emilia, her cousin and junior by about three years, had been inseparable when they were kids. Their mothers, who were sisters, rented apartments in the same nasty, should-have-been condemned building in Redmond. Redmond being Redmond, though, living in a should-be-condemned building was par for the course.

  When Frostburn developed magical powers just after puberty, everything had changed. Upon her Awakening and the subsequent drama of being courted by corporations eager to hire yet another mage, Emilia and she grew apart. When NeoNET fell over itself to hire her and gave her a full ride to the University of Washington, Emilia stopped calling. By the time Frostburn settled her mom in Snohomish, she and Emilia had fallen completely out of touch.It made perfect sense to Frostburn that they’d grown apart. Not only was this the start of those formative teen-age and early adult years, but life at the co
rp took up all of her time and attention. If she were being completely honest with herself, she’d forgotten about Emilia in the rush of attention, but she figured her cousin would have done the same thing. Everything was exciting at that age, and the sort of attention Frostburn got didn’t get paid to orks and trolls very often. Still, seeing Emilia’s apparent brusque acceptance of their distance still hurt.

  “So,” Frostburn said and tried to affect a casual stance, “what have you been up to?”

  “Not much, just stuff,” Emilia said.

  Frostburn nodded and pursed her lips. So it’s gonna be this way, huh? “Okay then,” she said and sighed. “Well, I gotta get going soon anyway. It was nice to see you,” she added uncertainly.

  Emilia flashed her a quick, tight smile. The smile might have appeared genuine, had it not slid off her face immediately afterward.

  As Frostburn cut through tables and crowds, needing to find somewhere―anywhere else to be―she headed across the garage toward her aunt. Insult to injury, she thought and shook her head. She didn’t have time to worry about her younger cousin or the chip on her shoulder. She was here for a quick visit, nothing more. Make sure everyone’s okay—basically, to put in an appearance. This would have been much simpler if her Aunt Gloria—Emilia’s mother—were not the most social of butterflies. When given the slightest heads-up that Frostburn was coming to visit, the woman threw a party. And truth be told, there was a large part of Frostburn’s secret heart that hurt to think she could have visited her mother more often while she was still alive. She did not want to make the same mistake with the rest of her family. Moving them in to her mother’s old house was just a first step. Now that they were safely out of Redmond, she could certainly visit more often. Just so long as work didn’t follow her home. That thought stopped her cold and she shoved the thought away. Aunt Gloria missed very little, and the last thing Frostburn needed was any questions about what was bothering her. No, she was just here to make an appearance and cut out gracefully.

  She moved through the crowd, handing out hugs here and there, and got close enough for her elderly aunt to hear and see her. She was wrapped in a fuzzy purple blanket that resembled a royal robe, and sat on a floral-print, stuffed armchair that was her constant throne. Someone had carried it out into the garage for her. The side table and lamp that usually sat next to her chair in the house had been brought out, too. Even her faded, rainbow-colored bread bag rug sat beneath her slippered feet.

  “Hi, Auntie,” Frostburn said. When her aunt beamed a crinkly, bright smile up at her, Frostburn felt any resolve she still possessed to dash out the door crumble away. Once an active, jolly figure, her aunt had grown ill and feeble over the past few years. Frostburn wondered how much time they had left.

  Aunt Gloria pulled her hands from beneath the quilt and lifted them to Frostburn, who clasped them warmly as she sat down on a folding chair across from her.

  Her aunt looked her over with that same penetrating stare that always made Frostburn feel like she was seven years old again. “You’re too thin,” she said in a strong, gravelly voice that belied her frail frame.

  “I know. I’ve been busy, and haven’t been able to start cooking at home like you told me—”

  “Your hair is green,” Gloria said, peering at her dreadlocks. Frostburn nodded. “The last time I saw you, it was red like a fire engine.”

  Frostburn grinned down at her boots. “Yeah, I suppose it was.”

  “I prefer green. But!” Gloria slapped her on the forearm. “I should see you at least twice with the same hair color; otherwise, you’re not visiting often enough.”

  “You do know they make hair colors you can change in less than a minute or two, right, Auntie?”

  “You know…” Gloria put her index finger beneath the point of Frostburn’s chin, as though she were going to divulge a great secret.

  “What do I know?” Frostburn said.

  “Taking time off work to visit home once in a while won’t kill you,” she said with a conspiratorial wink.

  Frostburn smiled with a wince and nodded. “I know. I know! You’re absolutely right. I’m sorry,” she said and sighed. “It’s just that work has been so busy—”

  Her aunt’s wrinkles deepened as she smiled and patted Frostburn on the cheek. “I’m sure it is. But you still don’t visit often enough.”

  Time melted away in warmth and camaraderie. Frostburn slowly made the rounds of her party, reconnecting with relatives she hadn’t seen in ages, and tried to take her mind off the team’s troubles, even if only for a bit. Even if the dark thoughts spilled back into her conscious thoughts every few minutes.

  No one questioned her vague answers when she answered their “So, what are you doing these days?” questions. No one demanded anything more specific, which, if she were being completely honest, is one of the big reasons she’d stayed away from these kinds of gatherings in the past. She was sure her family would get everything out of her. Someone was going to throw a fit and get dramatic―but none of that happened. It was a damn miracle.

  Rounds completed, she retired inside. Maybe with everyone chatting, eating, and drinking out there, she could slip away to get a little work done. She poked around, snooping in the rooms of her aunt’s house, feeling a little like a trespasser, even though she went through the better part of adolescence living under this roof.

  Emilia had gotten Frostburn’s old room when they moved in. The room could have still been hers, for how similar their tastes were. Punk rockers head banged from their AR posters draped askew over every wall surface. She sat on the bed and stared dryly at the moving posters, briefly flipping off Johnny Banger, who riffed in a never-ending loop. It was more of a salute to the legend than an insult, and she thought he would have appreciated the gesture.

  But she couldn’t work here, not with the ick of her interaction with Emilia earlier still lingering in her mind. She went into the master bathroom instead, locked the door, and lay down in the bathtub.

  She closed her eyes and tried to settle her thoughts. Inhaling deeply, she visualized sloughing away the house, the family, and the physical plane altogether in an attempt to head into astral projection. She needed to find out more about the person who had hired Yu, and she had a decent idea of where to start—

  A three-round burst erupted outside.

  Frostburn leaped out of the tub and nearly tore the door off its hinges in her rush to get out of the room. Once outside, she spotted the source of the gunfire. Emilia stood in the middle of the front yard, pointing a pistol in the air, her eyes bright and a wild grin on her face at the crowd of children gathered around her.

  Blood boiling, Frostburn ran to and disarmed her cousin within seconds, sped along by old muscle memory. She grabbed Emilia by the shoulders. “What the hell is wrong with you?” A wall of fumes hit her square in the face, and she recoiled. Her jaw dropped open and she worked her mouth without words for a moment before she spat out, “Are you drunk?”

  Emilia scowled and swung a fist at the empty air between them, far too late to catch Frostburn in the face. “Gimme my damn gun back, slitch. No one fraggin’ cares if I’m drunk.”

  “I fraggin’ do!” Frostburn shouted. She glanced around at the neighbors’ houses and lowered her voice to a hiss. “Especially if you’re going to fire your sidearm in the fraggin’ yard!”

  “Don’t yell at her. It’s okay!” one of the little ones said. “That was siiick!”

  “No, it’s not okay!” Frostburn snarled and shoved Emilia away from her admirers.

  Emilia pouted theatrically and generally fell in the direction Frostburn shoved her, barely getting her feet underneath her along the way. Brought to a stop, she swayed on her feet with a grin and a little giggling, but a fire burned somewhere below the drunkenness in her eyes.

  “I’m taking you home to sleep this off,” Frostburn said through a clenched jaw.

  “No you’re not, ’cause I’m not going home,” Emilia said with a scoff. “I go
t work to do.” She stabbed a finger into Frostburn’s chest at the word “work.”

  “You’re in no state to work. You’re going home.” Frostburn unlocked her car. “Get in.”

  Emilia swayed, cocksure yet guarded, and began to laugh. She shook her head as though Frostburn had just said the funniest thing. Then she sighed and wiped her eyes, turned, and walked unsteadily away down the sidewalk without another word.

  “Oh, for frag’s sake!” Frostburn muttered through clenched teeth. She turned to see the crowd of kids standing behind her, having obviously seen the whole thing. “Git!” she roared and lunged toward them. They scattered.

  She pulled the car over and drove slowly alongside Emilia. “Get in the car.”

  “Fuck off,” Emilia sang in an off-key fanfare.

  “Oh my God, you have no idea how much I do not have time for your drek right now,” Frostburn said. “Get. In. The. Car.”

  Emilia stopped and turned to stare at Frostburn with wide eyes. Frostburn sighed and stuck the car in Park. Emilia walked around and over to the driver’s window, staring at her all the while. She squatted slightly, putting her head level with Frostburn’s and said, “You ‘don’t have time’?” She paused for effect and wobbled slightly. Frostburn glared straight ahead out the windshield. “Well frag me, when did you ever?” Emilia popped back up to her full height and continued on her way.

  Frostburn pinched the bridge of her nose. “You know what?” She slammed her palm down on the steering wheel and threw the car into reverse. “I don’t have time for this. You want to act like an asshole? Go ahead. Just do it far away from here.” She gunned the car backward to its parking spot outside the house.

  Frag her! she thought. She’s a grown adult. If she wants to act like an ass, let her. She slammed the car door shut, took one last look at Emilia, who continued away unsteadily down the sidewalk, and went inside with a shake of her head.