Crack in the Kill Code (AmpCore #2)

16 - City Limits

The reception they received at the bar in question was positively arctic, but Piper hardly blamed the patrons for that.

Despite the corporate cordon, the gang warfare and the new bloodthirsty killers rampaging in their midst, the people here still found a way to have fun. Remarkably, they still found several thriving bars, clubs, game lounges, and even a few places calling themselves restaurants. Piper wasn't about to chance her internal organs on it, but it was still impressive.

That fun, however, decidedly did not extend to members of the corporations. Even with Mattellus's big armoured body leading the way, she saw the sneering looks and heard the muttered insults from the clientele. Glares followed them with every step.

It made her feel sick.

You're one of them.

The accusation coiled around her like a greasy vine. She saw herself, for the first time, as Kirk must have seen her all those months ago. The shock; the hate in his eyes when he realised she was choosing AmpCore over him.

It was more complicated than that, she told herself, but the look lingered in her mind. Her AmpCore uniform itched on her skin and she felt her implants prickle up and down their length as she walked.

An awkward quiet descended, conversations between the place's regular patrons swiftly fading into murmurs. She suspected the corporations had been the topic of plenty of them. Following Mattellus, they moved through the hostile air, walking up the bar, where a rugged middle-aged woman with a single fat braid of hair eyed them like rats. She leaned on the messy bar-top with her elbows, clasping her hands together and curling her lip in disgust.

Mattellus stomped up to the bar; nodded left and right to his soldiers. The four guards formed an outward-facing square around Piper and her companions, their heavy rifles held clearly in evidence across their chests. Once the cordon was in place, Mattellus moved back, motioning Piper forward.

"It's your party," he muttered. "Good luck. You're going to need it."

Piper rolled her eyes and stepped up to the bar, slinging herself up into the one of the stools. Odiye and Arrow stood awkwardly behind her, exchanging uncertain looks.

"What?" the bartender chuckled, her smile revealing more than one metal tooth. "My chairs not good enough for corporate asses?"

"They grew up in the Heart," Piper said quickly, shooting a glare back at her companions. "Will you two sit?"

Odiye cleared his throat, having the good grace to look embarrassed as he slid into the seat to her left. Arrow took the one on the other side, discomfort on their face as they perched on the edge, as though too much contact might infect them with something.

The bartender's grin softened into a smirk as she looked at Piper. "And what about you?

"I'll take a beer."

The woman chuckled and reached beneath the bar for a bottle. She cracked it open with a hiss and placed it down. Piper clasped the bottle-neck between her fingers and took a swig. ColdTwist Lager. Typical pisswater in the docks, but the taste sent a nostalgic feeling shimmering through her.

"So, you're good cop, eh?"

"Something like that."

"Pff, you're all corp."

"I wasn't always," Piper said. "I lived over on Cartwright Residential until a year ago."

"Oh, you did?"

"Yeah."

"Well, ain't you moving up in the world." She leaned closer, her smile vanishing. "You know that's... worse, don't you? Joining up with these spivs by choice?"