Start writing here..."Don't look back."
That's rule number one. But Nova did anyway, just in time to see two armored enforcers bust through the alley gate with electric batons lit and ready.
"Target locked! She's got stolen pharmaceuticals!"
"Stolen?!" Nova barked, already sprinting. "You mean the expired crap y'all threw out?!"
Boots thundered behind her. Sirens screeched across the sector. Neonfall lit up in red and blue, the steel skeleton of Sector Twelve pulsing like a warning.
She ducked under a hanging wire, the bag of bread and meds slapping her side.
"Move, Nova. Move now!"
Her lungs burned, heart slamming like a war drum. Her sneakers skidded on trash-covered pavement, sparks flying as she turned the corner sharp.
A drone buzzed low, targeting laser flickering across her shoulder.
"Infrared locked. Surrender or be subdued."
"Blow a circuit," Nova growled, flipping the drone off as she dove into a tunnel shortcut. The thing zipped after her like a hungry rat.
Her breath hitched. Not now. Not today.
"Sector gate's locked. She's headed for the stacks!"
"She won't make it, orders are to neutralize!"
"Come get me then!" she shouted, body weaving through rusted support beams. Her hoodie caught on a nail, rip, she cursed, yanked herself free, and kept running.
"Come own girl, gotta get to Mama. Gotta get this there. No excuses."
Her boot suddenly slipped, she slid, slammed her shoulder against the wall, hissed, but didn't stop.
Pain don't matter. Her mother does.
Nova's mind flashed to her mom, pale, shaking, lips blue. She had been sick a while, but for some reason, after this winter, it had gotten worse. That cough had gotten worse. Without meds tonight, she'd,
"No."
She reached a service ladder, gripped it, and climbed three rungs at a time. The drone clipped her leg, she snarled and kicked back.
"Keep it up, I got a bullet with your name on it!"
The top opened to a rooftop. She burst through, breathless, legs aching, but she was up.
One shot. One drop. Don't fall now.
"God, I come to you on the night of this theft to ask you, please don't let me become a paint splat in the streets below, Aman."
Across the roof. One building, then another. Enforcers yelled down below. Lasers zipped past.
Nova leapt, wind howled, she flew across the gap and landed hard, knees bruising.
But she was up again and she looked up. "That's what I'm talkin' about'."
Then, bam. A second drone cut her off. Bigger. Smarter. Weaponized.
It hovered low, light scanning her bag.
Nova snarled. "You really gon' make me break you in front of your friends?"
Click. Whir.
The drone's blaster spun to life.
Nova dropped the bag and flung a metal rod she snagged from the rooftop vent, crack! Direct hit. The drone twitched, spiraled, and exploded mid-air.
"Ha!" she screamed. "I actually hit you, homegirl didn't even know she could do dat either!"
But the sound echoed too loud.
A new voice barked from below. "Deploying shock net!"
Nova's eyes widened. "Nope."
She grabbed the bag, leapt the final rooftop, and landed in a roll. Her feet hit the fire escape, clang clang clang, sliding, not stopping, flying down the rails like a wild animal.
Ground level. Trash. Wet pavement.
Freedom.
She shoved into a narrow alley, crouched in a shadow, and held her breath.
Minutes passed.
Nothing.
She laughed low. Sweaty. Ragged. But victorious.
"You just too slow boy."
She danced in the alley way. The bag was torn, but the meds were safe. The bread was squished, but edible. Mom was gonna eat tonight.
Nova wiped blood from her busted knuckle and stood, glaring at the flickering city skyline. Then she vanished into the shadows, just another ghost in the neon storm.
The door creaked open, hinges squealing like they were in pain. Nova shut it quick behind her and threw two locks down.
"Ma," she called softly. "It's me."
From the back of the one-room unit came a tired, cracked voice.
"In the bed, baby."
Nova dropped the bag on the counter, peeled off her hoodie soaked with sweat and blood, and washed her hands in the rusted sink. Home sweet home.
She moved with purpose. Toasted the bread over the cracked burner. Crushed one of the pills into hot tea. Poured slow, careful. She only had enough water left for one cup.
In the other room, her mother coughed hard, deep and wet.
Nova walked in with a tray and her smooth grin.
"Bon appétit," she said with flair. "Neonfall's finest expired soup and bootleg antibiotics, delivered express."
Her mother laughed. "You out there actin' up again?"
"I was actin' in the cause of my mama," Nova smirked, feeding her the tea. "Big difference."
The woman looked at her daughter like she was the only light in a dark place. "How'd I end up with the most beautiful soul in the whole city?"
"God," Nova said, sitting beside her on the mattress. "Or a twisted joke from the adoption agency. Either way, I'm yours."
They ate together in silence, warmth tucked in the corners. Neon lights blinked outside the window. It felt safe.
Then Nova's burner phone buzzed.
She frowned and stood walking out of the room, answering with caution. "Yeah."
A voice replied, clinical, cold.
"This is Neonfall Medical Sector. Patient Aria Reyes, listed emergency contact: Nova Reyes."
Nova's throat dried. "That's me."
"We received updated results from the latest scan. Her condition has worsened. Without a kidney transplant, her life expectancy is approximately four to five months."
Nova blinked. Her mouth opened. No words.
"I'm sorry," the voice said, robotic. "Please contact our donor program for assistance."
The line clicked dead.
Nova stared at the phone. Then slowly turned to go back to her mother.
The older woman saw it in her eyes. "It's bad, huh."
Nova's voice came out low. Calm. Dangerous.
"They gave you an expiration date, Ma. Without a transplant soon..."
Her voice cracked as she began to cry. Her mother reached out, squeezed her hand. "It's ok Nova. We'll figure this out. I'll reach into my savings and..... ."
Nova drowned her out. Just held her hand and looked out at the flickering, broken city. Something inside her had already started to burn. What she was about to do could get her locked away for life. But, she was willing to do whatever it takes.
The city never slept, but her mother did.
Barely.
Nova waited in the dark, leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching the rise and fall of her mother's chest. Soft wheezes. A few coughs in her sleep. Every sound cut deep.
She planned every step of the way.
The moment the old vent unit kicked in with a broken hum and her mom rolled to the side, Nova moved. Quiet. Controlled.
She slipped into her hoodie, grabbed her satchel, and strapped a switchblade to her thigh. Then a silenced taser. Tools she didn't want to use, but might have to.
Her mom murmured in her sleep.
"Nova...?"
Nova walked over and kissed her forehead. "Shh. I'm just goin' to the store, Ma. Be right back."
Lies were easier when they were soft.
She stepped outside, locking the door behind her with a piece of gum in the latch. Just in case she didn't make it back in one piece.
Neonfall General Hospital. Sector Ten. 2:34 a.m.
Nova crouched behind a busted vending machine outside the hospital, fingers cold but steady as she pulled out her burner phone.
Dr. Bishop.
Not a real doctor. Just a dude who used to work ORs until he got caught stitching up gang lords under the table. Lost his license. Kept his skills.
She hit call.
Two rings.
"Nova," the voice came through, gravelly and annoyed. "You know what time it is?"
"You still in Sector Twelve?"
A pause. Then a sigh. "What did you do?"
"I'm about to do something. I need you at my place in an hour. Bring your gear."
"You better not be dragging me into another body bag sitch..."
"It's not a body. It's life." Her voice cracked a little. "My mom needs a kidney. I'm gettin' her two."
"Two?" Bishop said, voice sharp. "Nova, what the hell..."
"I'm not asking for a sermon, I'm asking for your hands." She stood up, hood pulled low, eyes set like steel. "You in or not?"
Silence.
Then: "I'll be there in forty-five."
Nova hung up and tucked the phone away.
She looked up at the red neon sign of the hospital, glowing like blood in the sky.
"Let's get this over with."
Security was light. Tired guards. One working drone. Underpaid staff on autopilot.
Nova moved like smoke through the alley entrance, climbed the maintenance ladder like she'd done it a thousand times, because she had.
Back in the day, she used to jack med cabinets with her cousin Ty. Before he got caught. Before they found his body in a dumpster.
"Don't get caught, Nova. You don't get second chances in this city."
She slipped through the roof vent and dropped into the staff bathroom on the surgical floor. Checked the hall.
Clear.
Nova crept past the last nurse station, the sterile white light flickering overhead like a dying pulse. Her boots made no sound. She passed a room marked
"RESTRICTED ACCESS : MILITARY CLEARANCE ONLY."
She paused.
The door was cracked open.
Curiosity tugged at her. Kidneys were the mission. But what was this? This felt like fate tugging on her hoodie.
She slipped inside.
It was dim. The walls were reinforced metal, not hospital issue. A single hospital bed stood in the center, and in it, a man, no, a soldier, was strapped down. Big. Broad shoulders. Covered in scars that didn't look like any normal battle wounds.
On the tray beside him: a metal briefcase, open.
Inside was a small, sleek black chip glowing faint blue. It pulsed like a heartbeat, alive. Next to it, a scalpel and a page of military installation codes.
Nova whispered, "What the hell..."
The soldier's eyes fluttered open.
Not human.
At least... not anymore. His pupils were glowing red, veins around them dark like circuitry. He stared at her, unmoving.
"Who are you?" he rasped.
" Just a nurse."
The man looked at her for a moment and then relaxed as his eyes closed again.
Nova's hand moved on instinct. She snatched the chip.
The second her fingers touched it, a jolt shot through her spine. Her vision blurred, ears rang, then silence.
The chip liquified.
Sank into her palm. She stumbled back, heart racing. But it was already gone, inside her.
" Shit."
Nova slipped out of the room as quietly as possible. She took one final glace at her palm feeling a deep sense of worry. Then she moved on. She didn't have the time to study it now, however she would later. Once her mother was ok.
The surgical wing was cold and clinical. White tiles. Glass doors. And a big red sign that read:
"Organ Storage :Staff Only."
Nova pulled out her hacked badge card, stolen from a night nurse months ago, and swiped it.
Beep. Click.
Door opened.
She was in.
Fridge units lined the walls. Each labeled and sealed.
KIDNEY: A+KIDNEY: O-KIDNEY: B+
So on and so forth
Nova's hands shook as she grabbed two from O+. The second just in case her body didn't take to the first.
Then she heard it.
Footsteps.
Fast.
Voices.
"Hey! Did that door just open?!"
Shit.
She slipped the organs into her insulated bag, zipped it up, and darted to the hallway, too late.
"Freeze!" a guard yelled, gun raised.
Nova raised her hands. "Aye, chill! I'm just a janitor, I, "
Red light flicked on above the door.
Alarm triggered.
"Drop the bag!"
Nova's eyes went cold.
"Can't do that."
Then she spun, dropped smoke pellets, and ran like hell.
Down the surgical hall, past the trauma ward, boots slamming the floor. Shouts echoed behind her. One bullet pinged off the wall near her ear.
She hit the stairwell. Took them four at a time. Slid down the railing. Kicked the exit open,
, and ran straight into two more guards.
They grabbed her arms. "You're done!"
Nova screamed like she was scared, and headbutted one square in the face. He went down hard.
The other pulled a taser.
She kicked the bag into his leg and flipped over him, grabbing her satchel mid-air.
"Thanks for the workout!" she shouted, bolting into the stairs.
The hospital alarm wailed behind her.
She didn't take the street. Too exposed.
Nova slammed through the stairwell door instead, taking the steps fast, lungs burning from smoke and sprinting. Floors blurred. Footsteps echoed below and above.
Hallway's clear!"
"She's in the stairwell! Lock it down!"
Nova pushed harder. Her boots banged against the metal rails. Blood trickled from her temple, but she didn't stop, not until she hit the fifth floor.
Pediatrics.
She burst through the door and ran straight into an empty hallway. Her eyes darted to the first cracked door on the left. No cameras. Low light.
She ducked inside.
A small hospital room. Clean, quiet.
A little girl sat up in bed, maybe ten years old, clutching a teddy bear too big for her skinny arms. Her eyes widened as Nova crouched, closing the door behind her.
"Shhh," Nova whispered, pressing a finger to her lips.
The girl blinked, nodded slowly. Didn't scream. Smart kid.
Outside, boots thundered down the hall. The room stayed silent as they passed.
Nova exhaled slow, hands gripping the strap of her bag. When it was safe, she stood and peeked out the blinds, looking for a clean escape route through the alley below.
"You're bleeding," the girl said gently.
Nova turned. "It's not mine."
A beat.
"I'm Callie."
Nova arched a brow. "You always talk to strangers hiding in your room?"
Callie shrugged. "Not always. Just the ones with nice eyes."
That cracked a smirk from Nova, even now. "You got jokes, huh."
"I'm going home today."
Nova glanced at her chart on the table. "Good for you."
Callie held up her bear. "They said I'm gonna die in a week. But I still get to go home."
Nova froze. Her chest tightened.
"I don't have kidneys anymore," Callie added softly. "My mom said she tried everything. It's ok though. Mommy said I could be with God now. She told me it's better up there than here anyway."
Nova's world was shaken. Was she suffering from the same thing her mother was? If so, she knew how hard that was. And now she too was at risk. She looked down at the bag.
Then at the girl.
The organ inside could save her mother's life. But she had two. And one kid standing in front of her who wouldn't make it to ten-and-a-half without help.
"Dammit," she muttered under her breath.
She dropped her satchel on the bed and pulled out the cooling bag. Slowly, carefully, she unzipped it and pulled one kidney free, placing it in a smaller thermal pack.
"What's that?"
Nova grabbed a pen and wrote Dr. Bishop's number on a napkin. "Listen, you give this to your parents. Only them. No doctors. No nurses. No one. If anyone asks, just snot tissue and lunch got it?"
Callie nodded, wide-eyed.
"Tell them to call this man. Say Nova sent you. He'll know what to do."
"You're giving this to me?" the girl asked, voice trembling.
"I'm lendin' you some of my love aight,you deserve better" Nova whispered, zipping the rest away. "Make it count. Do as I say."
Nova slid the other bag close. Callie sat still, hugging the bear with one arm and the napkin with the other.
Nova leaned down and gave her a hug. Not quick. Not polite. But real. She buried her face into the girl's hair and breathed her in like this would be the only time they met.
Maybe it was.
"Thank you," Callie said into her chest.
"Stay strong, baby," Nova whispered. "You got this."
She stood, climbed onto the window ledge, looked out once more, then slipped into the night.
Nova dropped into the alley like a ghost, knees bending to soften the fall. She took off running, left turn, vault the fence, slide under the rail. She moved like smoke, barely a sound, barely a shadow. The cold night air cut through her hoodie, but she didn't stop.
Not until the hospital was far behind.
She ducked into a back alley behind an old, abandoned print shop, heart thundering in her ears. She pressed her back to the brick, breathing heavy, her eyes darting.
Clear.
She pulled out her burner to call Bishop. One ring. Two.
Click.
"I got it..., "
BANG.
A flash. A sharp sting in her shoulder. Pain flared white-hot.
Nova dropped the phone and it broke on the concrete. She gritted her teeth in pain. "Son of a, "
A spotlight hit her from above. Voices shouted.
"FREEZE! HANDS IN THE AIR!"
She spun, blood dripping down her arm, kidneys still zipped in her thermal bag.
Four guards. Two drones above. One of them had a railgun aimed square at her chest.
"Drop the bag and get on the ground!" a voice barked from behind a visor.
Nova looked down at the kidney pack. At her bloodied hands.
She clenched her jaw.
"Mama, I'm sorry.," she whispered softly under her breath.
She stepped back slowly, hands raising,
Then someone tackled her from behind.
Hard.
The bag flew from her hands. She hit the concrete, vision splitting. A knee slammed down on her spine.
"We got her!"
They wrenched her arms behind her back. Steel cuffs clicked tight.
"Nova Cross, you're under arrest for illegal entry, medical theft, and assault on government property."
She didn't answer.
Didn't flinch.
Even as they yanked her to her feet and dragged her away, Nova's eyes stayed locked on the bag lying in the gutter as tears streamed from her eyes.
One kidney gone.
One left inside.
Mama never got hers.