“Why does it need to be you?” Jim snapped, real anger in his voice. The plan had been to plant the camera where the man harassing and raping the girls at the orphanage would be sure to get caught. Sam’s addition of using herself as bait, was definitely not a part of his plan.

  Sam winced. At seventeen, Jim’s shoulders were well on their way to filling out and he was using it to his best advantage, fists clenched with rage.

  “Because I’m the one who can make sure it stops before it goes too far.” Sam said for the hundredth time. “Who else is going to do that?”

  “You’re more confident than you should be.” Jim said angrily. “You’re not indestructible, Sam.”

  “Then make sure I don’t need to be.” Sam said quietly. “Work your magic, boyfriend.”

  “It’s not magic. It’s planning.”

  “Fine. Do that.”

  “What would you like me to do, hide under the damn bed?”

  ---

  Jim lay under the bed and studied the rusty metal springs over his head. I may need a new girlfriend, he thought as the springs supporting the mattress dipped down towards his face.

  “You wanted to talk to me?” Sam’s voice asked. It sounded the way he expected Sam to sound under the circumstances. Pissed. The night before, Sam had made sure she got caught leaving the orphanage after curfew. When asked about the purpose of her unsanctioned departure, Sam had simply responded “Party time.” Tonight’s forced visit was entirely predictable.

  “No.” The man said flatly. “I never want to talk to you again.”

  Jim tensed as he heard the sound of a body hitting the floor. Stiff and cramped in the tiny space under the bed, he knew he would not be able to get out in time. It was one thing to help Sam fight off a man who became too aggressive. It was an entirely different matter to go up against an armed opponent. He would be shot before he ever got himself off the ground. Heart in his mouth, Jim inched slowly towards the edge of the bed and tried to peer out from under the bedspread. He could see Sam’s crumpled, unconscious body on the floor. It was difficult to make out from this angle, but he saw no blood. There was no smell of burning flesh. He had read that when a laser killing round was used, you would know by the smell. Jim waited.

  “Hey, it’s me.” The man’s voice cut across the empty room. “I need a pick up. Someone’s become more trouble than she’s worth. Do what you want with her.”

  Leave the room, Jim thought. Leave the room. He watched booted feet pace back and forth across the small room. The man did not leave the room. Jim did have a weapon. Technically. They found it in a scrap yard, during one of their unsanctioned outings. The trigger barely worked and the gun could no longer hold a charge. But if you charged it to its fullest right before you headed out, and pressed the barrel right up against something, you could just about get the equivalent of a stun round out of the damn thing. Sometimes. If he pressed it right up against the man’s ankle, he might go down. Maybe. Jim prepared to roll out from under the bed when the man’s booted feet paused.

  The man sat back down on the bed. Jim rolled away just in time to keep the metal springs of the ancient mattress from smashing his face. As he stared up at the metal springs less than an inch from his face, the tail end of an idea formed in his head. Shifting very stiffly and hopefully silently, he moved to make sure his body was not touching the metal springs in any way, flattening himself further against the floor. He pressed the barrel of the ancient gun as hard as he could against the metal springs, choosing the location where they sagged the most, pressed the trigger, and prayed.

  “What the… fuck!” The man shouted, jumping up off the bed and staring around the room dizzily.

  Jim made his move. Rolling out from under the bed, he went straight for the man’s legs, not even bothering to regain his footing. The man went down like a log, still dizzy from the partial stun round. Straddling his body, Jim hit his face again and again, until the blood came pouring out over his fists. He came to his senses just barely in time, grabbing the working gun the man had tossed to the floor and turning to shoot the second man who had just entered the room, gun in hand and a look of shocked surprise on his face.

  Grabbing the hidden camera, Jim heaved Sam’s unconscious body over his shoulder, and ran.

  ---

  “Chandra, shut up and listen.” Jim said, trying his best to be patient. “Do exactly what I am telling you. Do you understand? Exactly what I’m telling you.”

  “Why…” Chandra’s eyes were huge as she stared at Sam’s unconscious form. “What…”

  And that, Jim reminded himself, was why he really liked working with Sam. “What did I just say?” He snapped before he could stop himself.

  “Shut up and…” Chandra bit her lip, took a deep breath, and shut up. Jim got impatient when people didn’t listen. And it was usually best to just listen. Jim was never wrong. “I’m listening.” She said.

  “I’ve made five copies of the recording. Here are the five key drives. There are five Chandra. Do you understand?” Key drives were cheap and relatively easy to lift, but it had still taken some effort, and these five plus the last one he had on him, were all they had. He hated leaving this to Chandra, but he needed to get Sam out of the orphanage until the recordings came out. Leaving her there, was not an option. “Repeat it.” He said, focusing on Chandra.

  “There are five key drives.” Chandra repeated obediently, her voice trembling with nervousness.

  “Good. I am writing out the five addresses where you need to take them. There are two police stations and three news stations. Wait twenty four hours and if you don’t hear from me, take them to all five. Do you understand?”

  “I underst…”

  “Repeat it.” Jim interrupted sharply. He wondered what it would be like to have competent people. Other than Sam, of course. Sam, was terrifyingly competent. Sam… Sam would be fine.

  “Wait twenty four hours and then take the five key drives to the five addresses you wrote out.” Chandra repeated obediently.

  “Three news stations and…”

  “And two police stations.” Chandra interrupted, finally regaining some of her footing. “I got it. Get Sam out of here. Go!”

  Without another word, Jim heaved Sam over his shoulder and walked out. He had some serious reservations about what he planned to do next. But sometimes, there were no good options.

  ---

  The fruit shop was closed for the night by the time Jim walked up, breathing hard. The lights inside were dimmed. With only a slight hesitation, Jim knocked on the reinforced glass doors, the sound unexpectedly loud in the nearly empty hallway. It was late, and most of the other shops were already closed. Jim covered Sam’s unconscious body with a long coat, but fully realized he looked suspicious as hell, walking down the nearly deserted hallway with what looked very much like a dead body covered by a coat. He knocked harder. No one came.

  “What have you got there?” A quiet voice said from behind him.

  With a soft curse, Jim turned around to face a man and a woman now standing in front of him, complete with police uniforms. His eyes darted in both directions, but there was no way he could outrun them both, carrying Sam on his shoulder.

  “I got hungry.” He said with a resigned sigh.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  “Maybe I can help.” A quiet voice came from the other side of the hallway.

  Everyone started. No one had seen the man walk up.

  “If you’re all good here, we’ll head out.” The policeman said, sending out a salute towards the shop owner.

  “All good.” The man nodded in acknowledgement, stepping forward to unlock the door of his shop and motioning for Jim to come inside.

  “Your security alarm went off.” Jim said. It was a statement rather than a question.

  “It did.” The man agreed. “That the girl you’re carrying on your shoulder? The one who came by two days ago?”

  Jim stood in the middle of the shop, frozen with completely uncharacteristic uncertainty and unwilling to let go.

  “She alive?” The man asked.

  “Yes.”

  “She may not be getting enough oxygen under the coat.” The man pointed out.

  Jim dropped her so fast, her body nearly disbalanced as he tried to place her in a sitting position against one of the counters. His hands were shaking, very slightly.

  The man stepped forward, checking Sam’s pulse and using the flashlight on his wrist comm to check her pupils before turning back to Jim. “She seems fine.” He said mildly. “I assume she got hit with a stun round.”

  “Yeah.” Jim said, relief evident in his voice. He had thought that Sam was fine. But he’d never seen anyone hit with a stun round before.

  “You have blood on your hands.” The man said.

  “I…” Jim started. Glancing down at his hands, he realized the man meant it literally.

  “The other guy still alive?” The shop owner continued, his voice as calm as ever.

  “Yeah… that is, I think so.”

  “Good to check, time permitting.”

  “Yeah well, time did not permit.” Jim said curtly.

  “You got the video you were looking for?”

  “Yes. Wait, how did you even know I was with… with her?”

  “Saw you staking out my shop the day she came in.”

  Jim released a slow breath. Sam had been right. Their original plan would have never worked. Sam, was usually right. And Sam thought the man could be trusted, to a degree. But first things first. “When will she wake up?” Jim asked.

  The shop owner sighed. It had been a long day, and he wasn’t particularly in the mood to deal with kids. But these kids… these kids had potential. “Give me a minute.” He said. “I’ll take care of it.” He gave the girl only one of the pills that counteracted the effects of the stunner. It would take her longer to wake up, but they had time. And it was easier on the body to take it slow. He added a pain killer for the stunner headache before turning back to the boy. “Let’s see it.” He said, holding out his hand.

  The boy handed over the camera, which contained a recording of the events.

  “That all of it?” The man asked mildly, looking down at his own camera.

  “Whole thing.” The boy agreed readily.

  “I meant, are there any other copies?” The shop owner said patiently.

  “Could be.” Jim said without missing a beat. He had watched the man closely when he gave Sam the pills, but be could see the color returning to her face, her breathing and movements becoming more natural. Sam was going to be fine. Everything else, he could handle.

  “Then why are you bringing this here?” The man looked at the camera in genuine curiosity.

  “Our faces are on it.” Jim said.

  “Well, well, well.” The shop owner grinned finally. “Definitely not stupid, are you?”

  “I run hot and cold, sir.”

  “We all did, at your age. You want me to redact your images from the recording?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “And the backups, you have plans for them to go out unredacted if your little friends don’t hear back soon?”

  “Couldn’t say, sir.”

  “Let’s see this recording.”

  ---

  “So he got fired.” Sam shrugged, sounding unimpressed as they sat down to lunch, trying to chew their way through mushroom flavored ration bars that were allegedly crammed with nutrition. “I said dead, Jim. Did you hear the part about wanting him dead?”

  Jim gritted his teeth, holding on to his patience with both hands. “And I said he would be. And that it would take time.” He added firmly.

  “How, Jim? How is he gonna be dead? He’s not even at the orphanage any longer. How are we even going know where he is?”

  “I know where he is.”

  “Do you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you really?”

  “Yes.”

  Sam crossed her arms. “Tell me.” She said insistently.

  “I found out his home address.”

  “So? He’s fired. He won’t even be able to live there much longer. I don’t know if you picked up on this, but he didn’t strike me as saver. And they’re not going to charge him. Not enough ‘evidence’, they said.” Sam bit into her ration bar angrily.

  “Halfway housing gets assigned based on home address.” Jim said smugly. There were no real homeless people on Tundra. Tundra, was not a habitable planet for most of the year. Even the penniless and unemployed had to go somewhere. And that place was halfway housing. Located in the windowless basements of the buildings that were giant, self-contained pods humans used to survive on the planet, halfway quarters were a rats’ warren of sleeping pads strewn across the crowded, filthy floors. And when one of the residents disappeared, no one particularly cared. It was a lot like being an orphan.

  “Really, based on home address?” Sam asked.

  “Yes.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I know things, Sam.” Jim put his hand around her shoulders. “All sorts of things.” He added, leaning closer to her ear.

  “Hmmm.” Sam said, trying her best to sound unimpressed. “And what if he goes to stay with family, or, you know, friends?”

  Jim just looked at her.

  Sam considered what she knew of the person in question and sighed, conceding defeat. “Fine. It’s not a totally terrible plan. And how will we know when he shows up in this supposed halfway housing?”

  “I’ll know.” This was the easy part. Jim was good at doing favors for the right people. And he knew just who to ask.

  “And once he’s in halfway housing, no one cares what happens to him.” Sam said thoughtfully.

  “That’s right.” Jim nodded. “And it has nothing to do with us.”

  “Nothing at all.” Sam said, looking happier. Jim really was a good friend to have.

  ---

  The smell was disgusting. A combination of human filth, rotten food, and something Sam thought might be decomposing human flesh.

  “All I’m saying” Jim continued, lowering his voice slightly and pulling Sam closer as a shambling shadow of a man with a filthy beard looked too long in their direction “is maybe this is bad enough. You wanted revenge. You have it. Sometimes the right thing to do – is nothing.”

  “I said dead.” Sam said stubbornly.

  “And I’m saying, he’s as good as dead. While we, are very much alive and in excellent health. A state of being I would very much like to continue.”

  “Dead.” Sam said as if that should, in and of itself, be compelling enough.

  Jim sighed.

  “He may come back.” Sam added, relenting slightly. “He’s here now, while his face is plastered all over TV. No one likes the guy who goes after the Dragon City orphans. Great. But how long will that last? People forget. If he’s alive, he can come back from this. And we both agreed. He dies. Are you going back on your promise?”

  And that, of course, was that. They found him four hours later, as filthy as everyone else and barely recognizable. He had lost weight, his odd, shambling gate and bloodshot eyes suggesting he had gotten into some of the drugs so readily available in the area.

  They played it just like they had rehearsed. They followed his aimless, shambling walk until they reached an especially out of the way location. Jim drew Sam ahead, pushing her into an alcove.

  “No!” Sam said, pitching her voice perfectly for the man to hear them, but not so loud as to draw in anyone else. “Please, stop! I’ll do anything.”

  Jim tried not to roll his eyes. Personally, he thought Sam was overplaying it. Fortunately, the man was too far gone to notice. Likely operating on instinct rather than any remaining sense of sanity, he ambled into the sheltered alcove Sam and Jim had selected.

  Jim grabbed him by both arms, immobilizing the man completely. It was almost too easy. He was so weak he could barely walk. Without any hesitation, Sam took out the knife she had brought along for the occasion, and sliced his throat. What she didn’t expect, was the fountain of blood that drenched her completely.

  “Ugh. Disgusting!” She said in outrage. “What the hell am I going to do with this?”

  With a deep suffering sigh, Jim turned her around, removing her coat and using the less blood drenched sections to try and wipe off the blood from her face.

  “Give me your shirt.” Sam said.

  “No.”

  “Jim!”

  “I’m going to need it after I give you my coat.” Jim said patiently. Having done his best to wipe off the blood, he finally took off his coat and draped it around her shoulders. Fortunately, it covered her almost entirely. Reaching into the pocket of his old coat, he pulled out a hat, piling her blood soaked blond hair on top of her head before covering the entire mess with the hat. “It’ll have to do.” He said.

  “You’re such a gentleman, Jim.” Samantha said, throwing her arms around his shoulders and standing up on tip toes to reach his lips.

  “I try.” Jim Hawk murmured. “You make it a challenge, but I try.”

  ---

  Three years later…

  Megalodon City, Tundra, standard year 363 after founding

  Samantha walked into the fruit shop. It looked nearly the same as before. Maybe a bit less selection out on the counters. The lights were a bit dimmer. Energy conservation was in full effect. The belt tightening continued. Every spare resource, every penny, every moment of spare time, was spent on the war effort. Sam didn’t mind. She was glad. She walked right up to the counter, head held high, her steely gray eyes meeting the same sharp, dark eyed gaze she remembered.

  “Graduation year.” The man said with a nod. “Congratulations.”

  Samantha ignored his words. She wasn’t there for small talk. She placed a piece of paper, actual paper, down on the counter. It had thirty eight names on it, written out in two neat rows. The last name on the list, was President William Thornhill, president of Saraya.

  The shopkeeper glanced down at the names curiously. “Who are the other thirty seven?” He asked.

  “The cabinet.” Samantha said. “These are the people who were in the room, when the decision to attack Tundra was made. These are the people who ordered the destruction of Dragon City. I had parents. I had two brothers. I had grandparents, and cousins, and friends. And they are all dead. These thirty eight people, are going to die. If you can help me do it, I’m in.”

  “Might take some time.” The man said mildly. “And a lot of hard work. To prepare.”

  “Good. I have nothing but time.”

  “And that boy, the one you were playing with a few years back?”

  Sam frowned, not appreciating the word ‘play’. “Gone.” She said shortly.

  “Gone where?” The man asked, insistent.

  “Navy.” Sam crossed her arms. It wasn’t as if she cared. “He’s been deployed. I don’t know where. He’s gone.”