I step around the weeds that sprout from the soil. You see them everywhere, little yellow dandelions. My feet are heavy as I trudge along. I make sure not to step on the flowers. Fragile, beautiful things.

  Surrounding me are Ricky and Cherry. Both doing their own thing. Both thinking their own thoughts.

  If Allie was here, she’d be beside me.

  I remember her yelling. Kicking. Shooting fire with the gun in her hands.

  “Well, Fish is as efficient as ever.” Cherry interrupts my thoughts. “It’s like nothing even happened.”

  “Efficient right to the end.” I agree. “But then again, none of us did anything about it.”

  “We couldn’t. We’d be sentencing ourselves to the same fate.” Ricky interjects. “Or worse. Who knows what they do afterwards with the code?”

  “Fair point.” I hum in agreement, looking ahead into the distance. “Allie was good at what she did. I wonder what made her break.”

  “No point in speculating.” Cherry answers, crushing a dandelion with her feet. “Fish wouldn’t want us to speculate.”

  “Well yeah, but if we figured out what made her go berserk, we could learn from it.” I clench my hands into fists. “It’s just that Fish doesn’t want any distractions from the project.”

  “It has been going well though.” Ricky looks up towards the sky, dimly lit. “The project. It makes sense why she wants us to focus on it.”

  “I wish we had Spark or Vixen with us.” Cherry complains, huffing. “People are more likely to go for the ones with the younger models.”

  “Fish needs them, they’re the only ones who can fit in the rubble of buildings.” Ricky points out. “It’d be nice if we could’ve at least gotten one of them.”

  “They must really be running low on supplies.” I walk along the path, twisting and turning every which way. There is a nearby village down south. “I can see her taking one, but two is a lot.”

  We fall into silence as we approach the village. It’s just efficient that way. We made the mistake of announcing our arrival and it didn’t go so well so we sneak in now.

  Standing at the mouth of what used to be a river, or so Fish tells us, we try to come up with a plan.

  “Laois, you stay here.” Cherry says, brushing a strand of her hair behind her shoulder. “You’re a brawnier model, so they’ll likely be scared of you if you go near them.”

  “Like Laois would hurt anyone, he always makes us do the dirty work.” Ricky crosses his arms. “But yeah. I’ll find a body, hopefully one is already deceased.”

  It is likely that in such a run-down village that there are those who have already died. Sickness. Malnutrition. The probability is around eighty percent.

  I don’t like looking at them. A reminder that we can’t help everyone.

  That’s the goal of the project—to help—and while Fish tries to avoid as many casualties as possible, there are still some.

  Efficient, sure. But are they right? If we report instead that there were no bodies found, what difference would it make?

  I know Fish is just calculating based on probability and safety. I know that. It doesn’t mean I have to agree with it.

  “Alright, Ricky, you go into the houses marked with the dead-skulls.” Cherry instructs. “Find supplies, Fish can stash them.”

  “What supplies am I looking for?”

  “Whichever ones seem useful. Batteries would be helpful.” Cherry turns towards the village, the houses run-down and broken. “I’ll try to look for any signs of life.”

  “Hopefully some are alive.” I nod, looking at the village with her. “Looks like the probability for anyone who is still alive is low.”

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  “But not 0%.” Cherry nods. “I like those odds.”

  Ever the enthusiast, Cherry is.

  I watch as the two split paths and make their way into the village. Both going their separate directions. I sit at the river mouth.

  If Allie was here, I’m sure she’d be going with Cherry. Both chatting amongst themselves as they’d enter the village. I remember the screaming.

  Allie had a gentle soul. She used to fantasize about the animals that Fish told us about. Wanted to start a farm. Get away from it all.

  She stood there with her hand on the weapon. Finger on the trigger. She shot. She killed. The blood of the guard forever stained her hands.

  I could’ve done something. I could’ve calmed her down. If I just had the right words.

  But Ricky is right—no one could do anything because we’d be going right along with her. To the incinerator.

  I trace circles in the dirt with a stick.

  Allie was a good friend.

  Allie is gone.

  I receive a ping from Cherry. It tells me to go to her location and that she needs help.

  I get up, abandoning the circles that I etched in the dirt, and make my way into the ruin that lays before me.

  I navigate. Stepping over cracked stone and broken planks. The directives tell me to keep going straight. It does not take into account that there are buildings blocking my path.

  I make my way over there eventually.

  “Took you long enough!” Cherry frowns, before gesturing to a building that has a leg sticking out of it. “There’s a little girl trapped under here, scans indicate that she’s been like this for hours, maybe even a day.”

  “Still alive?” I rush over. If there is a little girl under this, chances of survivability… low. “Move over, Cherry. You’re standing where the debris will go.”

  “Okay.” Cherry moves. I hear the whimper of the kid. “Survivability of the child looked promising, about 60%. Odds could increase or decrease depending on what happens next.”

  “We’ll make sure it stays level.”

  I assess the damage, the building, and everything around it. It seems like it caved in—best to take from the top and avoid the sides providing the structural support for it to remain.

  I tear and pry at the wood, tossing it aside. I act quickly but efficiently. I could take my time. The kid doesn’t have that time.

  Everything gets tossed. I’ve settled for just hoping that Cherry dodges rather than throwing them all in a set direction. I can hear the kid stifling sobs and gasps.

  “I know this hurts.” I try to emphasize. I don’t know. “But you can do this. Just hang tight.”

  Eventually I am able to squeeze the leg out the other side. I lean over to pick up the kid and bring them over to our side where it’s safer and considerably less collapsed.

  “Hey, breathe, kid.” I hold her—leg gashed open in a gruesome mess. She’s in no position to be placed down right now. “We’ve got you, you’re safe.”

  “Is she talking to you?” Cherry asks, walking over to stand alongside me. “Do you think she has a name?”

  “Probably.” The kid doesn’t look at either of us. I ask. “Do you have a name?”

  The kid shakes her head, biting at her fingernails. I move her hand away from her mouth. Who knows what germs could be there; we can’t risk her survivability falling past 40%.

  “Children live off of germs. She’ll be fine.” Cherry states. I watch as she stares at the kid for a second. “Survival probability is dropping. We need Spark and the supplies.”

  “Let’s head back. I’ll ping them with the location.” I begin walking over the mess that I created. “We’ll get her help.”

  “You know what happens when she drops past 40%, right? It’s integral that we get back soon.”

  “Fish will be lenient.” I say. “She’s a kid. I don’t think she's that heartless.”

  “She’s efficient to the end—the end. If the kid won’t survive then she’ll see no point in keeping her alive.” Cherry insists like I haven’t heard the rules before. “We need something to cauterize the wound.”

  “When we get back.” I say firmly. Walking past buildings. I move quicker. “We’ll find something.”

  “We can’t wait for Spark.”

  “We can.” I analyze the situation. I try to be like Fish. Objective. “I’ll use my shirt to act as a temporary bandage.”

  “Right—you’ll need that afterwards, you know?”

  “Not if the kid needs it first.”

  We reach the river mouth. Ricky still isn’t back. I wonder how his supply run is going. I recognize that now isn’t the time to focus on Ricky.

  I set down the little girl alongside the mouth of the river so her legs are dangling. I take off my shirt and lean down to her.

  “I know I seem scary, but I’m here to help you.” I insist. “I’ll be wrapping your leg in this so that we don’t see any of that blood.”

  Her eyes are filled with tears. She nods. She looks hungry.

  I wrap the bandage around her leg. I make sure that it is tight to apply pressure to the wound. She squirms. I try to be gentle.

  If Allie was here, she’d have a funny joke to brighten up the kids' mood. I grumble. I can’t think of any jokes for this situation.

  “Done.” I get up. “You stay there. We’re getting help.”

  I make my way back over to Cherry. I linger by her side. My hands stained with blood. This is what they wanted.

  “I’m going to try talking to her.” Cherry says. “See if there are any other people in the area.”

  “Might be long deceased.”

  “She survived.” Cherry shrugs. “We’ll just have to see.”