“Vince? Ah, fuck!” Cassie weakly yells from the ground the instant she tries to move.

  I grab an antibiotic and a pain killer from the small stash of medicine I have, as well as a small bit of food and water.

  “Here, this will help.”

  “Who the fuck? Get away from me!” Cassie yells the instant she sees me, and her one working arm flies down to the hip where she keeps her knife. The movement makes her visibly wince, but she powers through the pain.

  “Cassie, it’s me. Blue.” I say gently. She shouldn’t be moving around this much.

  “What the fuck happened to you? And what happened to me?” She lays back on the cold ground.

  “Your arm had some kind of kill switch built into it. I had to break it to stop the electricity it was dumping into you.”

  Her head lulls to the side and she stares at her shredded shoulder for a few seconds.

  “I had to carry you through a sandstorm.” I continue. “I did my best, but you’re really injured, and the sand peeled off my artificial skin.”

  “What?” She looks around for the first time, her eyes scanning the dimly lit cave. Her eyes settle on the wall of sand roaring across the entrance. “Where’s Vince and Ivy?” She moves to sit up, only to fall over when all three of her artificial limbs refuse to move. “Why won’t my legs move!” Panic starts to overwhelm her.

  “Vince is alive, I promise.” That only serves to turn her panic into anger directed at me. “When you went down, we tried to escape. On the way out, he got shot in the leg and fell off a bridge. Ivy stayed behind to keep him alive while I got you out.”

  “You left them behind?” A roiling inferno ignites behind Cassie’s eyes.

  “I didn’t have a choice. They both told me to get you safe, and to find Clover, a quantum AI. Apparently she’ll help.”

  “We’re going back right fucking now.” Muscles across her entire body clench and unclench, desperately trying to get her legs to respond. “Fuck!”

  “Cassie, they’re alive.”

  “That’s the problem!” Her yell fills the cave and echos against the walls. “Do you know what that bitch is going to do to him? I promised him I wouldn’t let her get her hands on him again.” Cassie’s energy quickly drains from her body, and she lays back limply on the ground. “I need to put a bullet in one of them, it doesn’t matter which.”

  “Ivy will keep him safe.”

  “Ivy will keep him alive. Big fucking difference.” A tear begins to roll down Cassie’s face, which I pretend to not notice.

  “That still gives us time. We just have to make it to Vegas, and I’ll ask Zero or-”

  “Where’s the car?” She interrupts.

  “Mara’s people took it. I’m going to steal another one as soon as the storm passes.”

  “We’re dead then.” She says like it’s already come true. “Whatever you find won’t even come close to making it on one charge.”

  “Then I’ll steal a second one! And if that doesn’t work, I’ll walk and drag you behind me. I’m not going to let anyone die, no matter what.”

  Cassie just stares at the ceiling for a few seconds, although I’m not sure what’s going through her mind right now.

  “Get my legs working.” She says.

  “Ok, I’ll try.”

  I pull the cord out of my internals, plug one end into myself, and the other into Cassie’s legs. I try to run a diagnostic test, but nearly everything is dead. Even the boards I can get a response from only return junk data. A number of fuses are blown, but even jumping them with some of my skin plates doesn’t help anything.

  “Everything is fried, the electric surge killed way too much for me to compensate for.” I unplug myself.

  “Then fix it.” She says impatiently.

  “I can’t. Whatever internal generator you have isn’t responding at all, and my internal reactor can’t power us both. Even if it could, there’s too much damage, and I left all my tools in the backpack, which is gone.”

  “You lost my stuff?” Her hand reflexively clenches around where her knife would have been.

  “I saved as much as I could, here.” I pull her knife still tucked in its sheath out of my chest, and hand her book to her.

  Her hand relaxes when she sees them, and she winces as she reaches out. She takes the knife first, sliding it beneath her back. She then takes the book, and thumbs through it the best she can with one hand, checking for damage. Kara’s letter falls out of the pages, which I quickly snatch up before she can look too closely.

  “Sorry, that’s mine. I didn’t want it to get crushed.”

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “Thanks.” She says reluctantly only after she rests her book on her chest, satisfied I haven’t torn it to shreds.

  “I thought they were important to you. I didn’t have a ton of space inside me, but I made sure to fit them in.”

  “They are.” Her anger has largely dissipated. “Where’s my gun?”

  “Right here, but it’s empty.” I hand it to her, which she also quickly grabs. “I couldn’t pack in extra ammo, and I didn’t think you’d be able to fight, so I combined our ammo into my guns. If it’d make you more comfortable though, I could give you all the 9mm, and I could use Vince’s rifle.”

  “Do that.”

  “Alright.” I slide the mag out of my gun, hand it over, and Cassie immediately struggles to load her pistol one handed.

  I don’t bother asking if she needs help, It would just make her mad, and even with just one hand she’s managing.

  “Why are they so important?” I ask, gesturing to her knife and book.

  “It doesn’t matter.” Her eyes land on the pile of shredded fabric in the corner. “Sorry you lost your clothes.”

  “It’s ok. I put as many layers on you as possible to try to protect you from the sand. It was more important to use them to help instead of saving them for myself.”

  “Is Corax ok?” She asks, her eyes darting around for him.

  “His internals were bound from the sand, and being conscious was hurting him. I had to turn him off until we can find some tools to clean him with.” Don’t think about that. Don’t let myself spiral. He’s not dead, just focus on helping Cassie.

  “Sorry.” She mumbles.

  “It’s ok. He’ll be ok.”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  I sit back and continue my work repairing a shirt for Cassie, while she stares off into the distance.

  “Try not to get stuck in your own thoughts.” I say gently.

  “Not much else to do.” She says without looking at me.

  “You could take the medicine I gave you.”

  She looks to the small amount of food, water, and two pills next to her. She pops the antibiotic in her mouth, takes in a mouthful of water, and props herself up on her own to swallow. Even though the movement is obviously painful, she leaves the painkiller and food where they lay.

  “You should take the other one too.” I say.

  “I’m fine.” Cassie shakes her head just a tiny bit.

  “Then at least eat, you’re going to make yourself sick.”

  “How much do we have?”

  “I saved everything in your bag. We can stretch it out to two weeks.” I answer.

  “Three.” She insists.

  “You need the food to recover.”

  “I’m missing three limbs. I don’t need that many calories.”

  “I’d be more comfortable if you ate more, but alright. You know better than I do.” If I had my hard drives available I could check exactly how much less she needs, but I can’t risk getting reinfected.

  We settle into an uncomfortable silence while I work. Cassie begins to poke around in the massive hole I ripped in her artificial shoulder. Basically everything in there is ruined, and it’d take an awful lot to get it working again.

  A few hours pass in silence before Cassie breaks it.

  “I’m cold.” She says quietly, as if she’s afraid I’ll hear her.

  Shoot, The temperature must have been slipping downwards without me noticing. It’s only sixty degrees in here, and I’m sure that will continue to drop without any sunlight reaching us.

  “Sorry, I didn’t realize. Your shirt’s almost done, but let me get you off the stone.”

  I move over to the pile of rags that were once our clothes and spread the more damaged ones across the floor, creating a small bed for her to lay on. It’s not anything thick, but it should help her retain heat.

  “I’m going to have to pick you up. Do you want a painkiller first?” I ask.

  “Just get it over with.”

  “Alright.” I hook my arms under her in the same exact way I carried her here. That skin was protected by my hands, and it should hopefully not hurt as bad as it could.

  “Gah!” She yells the instant I try to lift her, despite my effort.

  I know she wouldn’t want me to stop though, and as gently as I can, I move her over to the makeshift bed and set her down. Even after only a small movement, she’s breathing hard through clenched teeth.

  I grab the rest of the rags, the ones that are less shredded, and pile them atop Cassie.

  “I’ll make an actual blanket after I fix your shirt.”

  “This is fine.” She brushes me off roughly.

  “Alright. If you feel anything start bleeding from the move, tell me.”

  “This isn’t my first time being injured.” Her pain has caused her anger to start to return, not that I blame her.

  “Right.” Don’t say sorry. “I just can’t help but be worried.”

  “It’s fine.” Her voice softens a small amount.

  It only takes another twenty minutes of silence before I repair Cassie’s shirt. I had to cannibalize her left sleeve for more fabric, but her metal arm will be fine without being covered. I hand it to her silently, knowing if she needs help she’ll ask for it.

  Cassie spends a few seconds looking at it, trying to figure out how she’s going to manage to put it on. She eventually decides on struggling to get her limp arm through the open hole that was the sleeve, pulls her head through the neck hole, and forces her functional arm through the sleeve.

  Once her shirt is on, but bunched up around her armpits, she grabs her thigh and roughly pulls herself into a sitting position with a pained yell. Once she’s up, her hand is free to pull her shirt down into place, and she lowers herself back onto the pile of shredded clothes.

  “I’ll get working on the blanket now.” I say.

  “Fix your own clothes first.” Cassie says through panting breaths.

  “Keeping you warm is more important.” I say.

  “I’m fine.” She insists.

  “I’m not going to argue.” I stand up, move over to her, and grab a few pieces of fabric. I’m doing her blanket first, and nothing she says will convince me otherwise.

  Over the next few days I have to force Cassie to eat, drink, and take medicine. We have so few bandages I have to leave them on for far longer than I’m comfortable with, I can only hope the antibiotics are enough. I also begin to read at some point, both for my sanity and for hers.

  My biggest worry though, is that the temperature continues to drop. By the time the temperature is approaching freezing, Cassie’s fingertips begin to get a faint blue tinge to them. The blanket just isn’t enough, and my clothes are repaired, should I give them to her? Would that even help enough? No, it wouldn’t.

  “Sorry, but I need to warm you up.” I say softly and climb beneath the blanket next to her.

  She looks at me, and I can tell she wants to say something, but keeps her thoughts to herself.

  I begin to recite her book from memory for the third time.

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