“Huh.” Par stared ahead at Red, a strange look in her eyes. Maybe that was why she saved Red all those years ago. Because she saw herself in the scared ten-year-old that…
The next few weeks passed by in a hazy, heated blur. Par stopped scavenging, since the temperature only rose, leaving Arch and Red to go sneaking around in the landfills alone. Instead, she stayed within the confines of their shack, polishing up metal until it gleamed in the emerald sun, clipping wires with the precision of a surgeon, and rebuilding generators that could fit in the palm of her hand.
Meanwhile, Arch worked with their clients, all of them anonymous, since their contractor, Bryce, refused to let his clients meet his workers. At Sunday market, Red sold the parts they didn’t need. Since she didn’t officially work for any contractor in the Slums, she could keep her wages. They kept what little they’d earned underneath a loose brick in the back of their shack. They didn’t have to worry about food, since their boss, Bryce, provided them with it.
One morning, Par was fixing up Arch’s leg after he got it caught on some undergrowth in the forest. A couple of years ago, the Disease had eaten away at his left leg until only what he had above his knee remained. Everything below that was made of metal and copper that replaced bone and skin, and Sap running through wires that was supposed to replicate his bloodstream. The result was half of a metal leg that very closely represented a human one.
