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As we cut across a half-empty parking lot, the sun sinks behind the tops of buildings. We dodge a rusted-out car with broken windows and step into an alley, taking a short cut to the next street over.
We've been walking all day, crisscrossing streets as he hunt down apartment leads. We were less successful today at locating a cheap place to crash than we were yesterday. My feet ache from repetitive stress. While Austin is looking away from me, focused on the road ahead, I surreptitiously log onto the iVerse.
"Chris," I message him immediately. "Where are you? What's happened? Why won't you answer me?"
I waver on whether or not I should immediately delete the messages. I log out before I can change my mind, letting them lay between us. Two days ago, I'd planned on leaving my fiancée for this man. Now, he won't even reply to me.
It's like he's disappeared.
I turn to the man beside me. The one who didn't betray me, who didn't abandon me.
"Austin, it's getting dark and I'm starved. I think we just have to start again tomorrow."
"And what about tonight?" He snaps. "You really want to sleep in that ratty motel again?"
"I really don't care. I just want sleep. I just want food."
"You're really going to have to get used to dealing with hunger, Andrea," he says sharply. "We have to make the money last."
I can't stop myself from rolling my eyes as he looks away from me. A thought bubbles up from my hungry brain fog.
"Maybe it's time to call it quits."
"What do you mean, 'quits'?" He asks.
"Like, maybe it's time to leave Toronto. We have no where to live. No jobs, no hope of finding jobs. There's nothing for us here anymore."
"Where would we go?" There's a sneer behind his question.
"We could try Montreal," I suggest. "Maybe we could –"
"No. No way. We're not moving in with my parents."
"We might not have another choice. It's not like there's shame in it."
"Andrea, I'm not going to burden them with more troubles. Not when I know that they have struggles of their own."
"But they own their home, don't they? That's more than –"
"Andrea, no." He stops walking and turns to me. "Not until we absolutely have to. Things aren't that dire yet."
"Aren't they?"
"We still have friends here. And we still have cash. We can survive until we find something. I know we can."
"So what? You won't rely on your own parents for help, but you'll tap our friends –"
"That's not what I meant. But we need a support structure, more than just my parents. We need people our own age around us, you know?"
He looks beyond me at a point above my head. I twist to follow his gaze down the long alley. A group of scruffy people about our age materialize out of one of the backyards butting up against the lane. They are wearing android faces as hats, the plastic molds with one eyebrow or half a smile missing plastered to their foreheads.
And they've heading straight for us.
"You have money?" One of the men asks as they approach.
"No." Austin fibs with a straight face.
"I just heard you talking with her. You said you have cash."
The guy gestures at me. He has long, stringy hair that grows out from under the artificial face on his head. He's missing a front tooth that he could have lost in a fistfight with the ever-growing number of patrol bots that roam the streets.
Ever since the riot, everything had changed. People are getting desperate. Small groups of unemployed riot when they come across a bot or a robotics executive. They steal corporate or public service bots, tear them up, use what's left to build "protest installations" on the street corners.
Some wear an emblem on black armbands: The letters AAL in a circle, embroidered in red, for the Anti-Automation League. I clock it around the biceps of one or two of the group who stares us down.
"You were talking about money. So hand it over and we won't hurt her."
Austin takes a long stride towards the group and opens his mouth. The man closest to him takes a sleek hand pistol from his pocket and points it at my head. I gasp before I can stop myself.
I've never actually seen a gun before, not in real life. They used to be all over TV dramas, in cops' holsters. But this gun is real. It's drawn and it's pointed at me. Its black barrel reflects the light from the fading sun.
"Austin." I grab his arm. "Just stop. I'll just give it to them."
He doesn't say anything, but his hand is on mine and his grip is like iron.
"Austin, please. It's just money. We can't lose each other. Not now, after everything."
"Better listen to your girl," the guy with the gun taunts.
Finally, without looking at me, Austin loosens his grip.
I slowly, carefully take off my backpack and extract the roll of cash. I'm careful not to make sudden movements as I hand it to him.
One of them grabs it from my hand.
"Won't be worth anything for much longer," Austin says as the young man retreats, tucking our wad of cash into a pocket against his sunken chest.
I take in a sharp breath.
He says nothing, but narrows his eyes at Austin.
"No government backing for much longer, hyper inflation. Plus I hear the machines favor virtual currencies," Austin explains.
"Yeah, well. It's the machines that won't be worth anything for much longer," the guy explains.
I examine the parts of their faces not covered by robot masks. I wonder if any of them were part of the Movement, before it crumbled. Whether any of them realize just how much he's betrayed the cause.
"Billy, come on. Let's go," one of them calls to the man who took our cash. They're already running down the lane.
"Okay, well. The Anti-Automation League thank you for your contribution to the cause," he says.
"Brother, sister," says the guy holding the gun. Then he nods at each of us in turn and replaces the pistol in the back of his pants. He takes off after the others. They laugh maniacally as they retreat down the alleyway.
To be continued in Chapter 44...
A/N:
Woot! Made it to Friday!
This one is a super short chapter, and it seems like Andrea and Austin just can't catch a break. What are they going to do now? Go to Montreal? What would you do in this situation?
Find out those answers and more lol in Chapter 44, which comes out this coming Monday, January 22nd.
In the meantime, check me out on my socials:
TikTok: sawauthor
Mastodon: sawauthor (mastodonbooks.net instance)
All the best,
Stephanie