One
I DON’T KNOW WHY I thought the cops wouldn’t follow me onto the roof.
Honestly, most of the time it’s true. When I go up, the cops stay down, and I’m home free a minute later. Ninety-nine jobs out of a hundred are in, steal, out, profit.
It figures that this, our crew’s last job ever, would be the one fiery exception.
“Dispatch, this is 21-501. I have the suspect cornered on the roof of the Ivon Building. Requesting backup and air support.”
Cornered? Please. She knows I’m up here, but she doesn’t know where. It’s only a matter of time, though. And isn’t air support a bit overkill? The officer sweeps her gaze over the rooftop, pulling threads of glowing fire between her fingers as she glances right over the nook I’ve crammed myself into. The low concrete wall at my back bleeds evening chill through my hoodie, and my thighs burn with the exhaustion of holding still in a crouch after running for a mile straight. I clutch my bag tighter, as if that will somehow erase the vials of stolen maz inside.
This is fine. Totally under control.
Ania is probably close by, near enough to cook me up a distraction of some kind if I ask. I sneak a hand slowly into my back pocket and click the button to turn my deck back on. It gives a slight vibration in response. I turned it off earlier so I wouldn’t get distracted by messages and calls while I was busy, you know, not getting arrested, and about a billion missed notifications flood my vision as soon as the interface pops up in my contact lenses.
Epic Group Chat: LAST JOB EVER Edition
Jaesin: Remi and I are almost home
Ania: I’m still waiting on Diz at the meet point
Dizzzzzzzz
WHERE ARE YOU
The client is getting pissed
He says if you bring cops down on him he’ll make sure we’re blacklisted
Jaesin: Good thing this is our last job anyway
Remi: you ok, diz?
don’t make me come after you dizzy I will fight
Jaesin: She probably found some shiny new building to climb DIDN’T YOU DIZ
Your vital signs for the hour: Average pulse rate, 98; Blood pressure . . .
(private) Remi: diz?
Kyrkarta weather update: Scattered showers beginning at 3:30 a.m., with . . .
(private) Jaesin: Don’t be an ass, call Remi
They’re kind of panicking right now
(private) Ania: Okay, we’re really worried
Sera Shortner followed you. Follow them back?
(private) Davon: You decided about the job offer yet?
I sent you a little something for graduation
It’s fine, I know I’m the best cousin ever, you don’t have to say
(private) Ania: Diz, I’m seriousssssssssssss.
(private) Jaesin: Do we need to turn around and come back?
I double-blink to clear the clutter from my vision, then give the deck a silent command to bring up a map. The tiny sensors that read the movement of my throat have been messing up all the time lately, though, so I get my bank app, a word game, and a half-read fanfic before I actually get the map I asked for. Ania’s dot blinks on the map at the drop point, about two blocks from my location. Definitely close enough to create some kind of diversion for me. I start to subvocalize a message to the group chat, hesitate . . . then delete the whole thing and close the map.
They’ll all be gone in a week. Literally moving on with their lives, to a whole new city. College, jobs, all that.
I’m not going anywhere. Besides, I know this city better than anyone. If anyone can figure a way out of this, it’s me. I need to do this myself.
I let my head fall back against the wall and try to visualize the roof. In the half dozen times I’ve been up here before, I’ve used the maintenance ladder, the staff exit, or the breezeway over to the next building. This cop is between me and all of them. I ease myself up slowly, just high enough to see over the wall at my back and past the hulking air-conditioning unit behind it to the roof’s nearest edge. Against the inky black sky, two faint curves are backlit by the glow of the neon signs from the street below. A fire-escape ladder.
In the distance, the whine of aircar engines and sirens grows louder.
Well. No time like the present.
As soon as the cop turns her back to me, I vault over the low wall and sprint for the ladder. Her shout goes up barely a second later—“Halt!”—which is about a second longer than I