I slam my palms onto the grimy cement wall outside the bar, holding on for dear life. Droplets of sweat slide down my face, my head feels like an anvil, and my stomach twists like the two lovers sucking face beside me.

I figure maybe I’m just shitfaced until I can’t hold back anymore and puke. What comes out has a swirl of scarlet red and leaves a coppery taste in my mouth. The thumping bass from the club matches my heartbeat.

Jonzo. That bastard. Musta slipped some nox into my drink when I went to the boys room. Of course it was him. I look down the alley and there he is, leaning next to the side door, arms crossed, all awash in neon green and sucking on a cigarette. He’s staring me down with those chromed eyes, scanning me, watching my vitals flop around like a fish and waiting for them to zero out so he can cash in. He’ll finish the job if he has to. Must be a corpo hit…I don’t know how, but someone finally found me out. I’m fucked.

Thankfully, I always keep a stim on me. Uncle Jack insisted. Even from the grave, he saves my ass. Fingers trembling like crazy. I can feel the stim in my pocket…now I gotta play it like I’m chalked. Can’t break the stim. It’s my only chance.

I hit the ground like a sack of shit and slam my face in the puddle of my own bloody vomit. Probably broke my nose–all the better. Make it look more convincing. The lovebirds finally take a hint and shove off. Jonzo’s gonna make his way over here any second to seal the deal.

He’s coming. I can hear his footsteps. My thumb is trembling on the stim plunger.

Jonzo kneels beside me and slides out his blade. Now or never. I slam the stim and my body is pumped with so much adrenaline that my skeleton tries to leap out of my skin. There’s some neurovine in the stim to stall the nox too, though I don’t know for how long.

I’m on my feet and Jonzo looks like he’s seen a ghost. He makes a move for his kukri, but I’m jazzed up like a jackrabbit and my own blade comes out first. I slice him across the neck so deep that I feel the edge hit his neckbone and warm blood gushes out like a broken water main all over this random Jane, and she screams like a banshee.

That’s my cue. I beat feet down the alley like a man on fire, but I have no idea where the fuck I’m running to and the stim’s gonna wear off any minute. I don’t think there’s a street doc waiting around the corner, and I don’t have the scratch anyway.

People take cover as I sprint by, probably thinking there’s a stray bullet or two coming their way. The colors smear together as my vision wavers and I can’t even tell where I’m going. Finally, my legs stiffen up in protest and start to shake. My heartbeat slows down; the stim put them into debt.

The nox will kill me if my heart doesn’t give out first. Each heartbeat farther and farther apart. The searing streetlights and harsh noise fades, bringing the world into focus for one final moment of clarity as I collapse onto a sodden old cardboard box in an old basketball court in the middle of some rotten shantytown of stained plywood and scrap metal. I made it all the way into oldtown. The Reliquia.

Soot-covered street kids are staring at me. This won’t be the first time they watch someone die.