THE DOOR TO THEIR room creaked open. Sord and Robbie stared at each other, anticipating a tearful, searing life-lessons admonishment from their mothers.

Then it closed, leaving only a crack. They heard a girl’s muted voice speaking outside.

“Okay if we go inside?” they heard. “We won’t wake them if they’re sleeping.”

The door crept open. Sord noticed four fingers grabbing the edge, nails covered in purple polish.

Daisy’s head peered through. “Are you two awake?” she whispered.

Robbie was closest to the door and glanced back at Sord, then threw his covers over the bed. He didn’t want to be seen wearing a butt-open hospital gown. Not by a girl.

“Sure?” he replied hesitantly.

The door opened fully, and three mid-teen girls walked into their room.

“Are you decent?”

“We’re anything but decent,” Robbie joked. “But you can come in. It’s not like we’re dead or nude or anything, but the only thing between you and mother nature are these damn thin hospital gowns.”

They giggled.

At five-foot-eight, Daisy was happy she could tower over most boys at sixteen, though she also understood most would soon catch up and overtake her. Her eyes drooped slightly down her face, which always made her uncomfortable. She never felt droopy, but thought of herself as ebullient, effervescent, and ready to take on the world.

Because the Durango facility was sealed off from outside air, people could dress accordingly at the constant seventy-three degrees. She and her two friends were wearing colorful tights and light sweatshirts covered with high school patches.

“We skipped out of PE classes to come see you guys,” she beamed.

Sord was dumbfounded. This was the girl. He’d thought about her since their first meeting six months earlier at a Durango-Hesperus teen event. Something about her hazel eyes and auburn hair. He remembered asking her a question he thought was so stupid at the time. ‘How can your hair be so impossibly beautiful?’ Though he was sure they said more than that, he could only recall that one embarrassing remark.

“I hoped you’d remember me,” she confided, staring at Sord.

“Daisy,” Sord exhaled, forgetting that he was covered in various bandages and dressings.

“Ouch! Poor guy!” She put her hand outward and took a step toward his bed, as if to place her hand on his leg beneath the sheet. Then she backed off, thinking this was too intrusive.

“Oh, Sord remembers you,” Robbie smiled wryly. “He may not recall, but he mentioned you a lot when he was delirious from loss of blood.”

Her eyes widened in disbelief. “Really?”

“Yeah. I assumed he was pretty close to dead, pale as a ghost and losing consciousness, so I told him to think of some reason for living, and your name came up. Funny, he couldn’t remember if it was Daisy or Veronica or something else with ‘V.’”

She chuckled as did her friends. “He did okay. My given name is Veronica but my parents named my dog Veronica before they had me. I guess it was so confusing when I was a toddler because they’d say my name and our dog would always come wagging. So, they eventually started calling me ‘Daisy’ because I liked to plant daisies in the garden with my mom.”

Robbie knew Daisy was focused on Sord, so his best bet for sympathy and attraction was with her friends.

“I’m Robbie,” he said, smiling broadly at them. “Robbie the, uh, racnine gladiator and overall adventurer into the unknown wilds.”

They laughed uncomfortably, not knowing how much truth was in his statement.

“I’d like to know your names. So how did you find out what happened?”

“I’m Sylvia,” Daisy’s dark-haired friend said. “My dad and mom also helped rescue you. We thought it was funny since we got to meet you guys a few months ago, so we dodged our classes to hear what it was like to nearly die.”

This was Robbie’s chance to shine. “And the other lovely lady behind you?”

The third girl had been standing behind Sylvia and Daisy, barely visible. She had long brown hair and bright blue eyes.

“Robin,” she responded quietly, her face beet red. “Like the bird.”

“Your parents should have named you ‘Bluebird’ with such beautiful eyes. I remember you guys at that event,” Robbie recalled.

Sylvia continued. “My dad told me some of what happened, but we thought since we knew you both, we’d hear about your little delinquent adventure first-hand rather than on Prosperity Net or word of mouth. In the old days you could find this stuff out on social networks. Besides, Prosperity probably won’t cover it much except to point out how it pays to be prepared and all that usual rot about life lessons, la de da. You will no doubt become an example for all of us sweet, innocent non-delinquents, which means you’ll enjoy many days of infamy.”

Sord remained dumbfounded and unsure of what to say. Worse yet, he hadn’t really had time to comprehend how bad he actually looked.

The front of his bed was not inclined as much as Robbie’s, and he was getting tired leaning on his good elbow. He fumbled for the control module which was hanging beneath his bed.

“Let me get that,” Daisy insisted as she swept between the two beds to grasp the attached unit. “Want this up a little?”

Sord nodded. “Thank you.”

“Oh, my!” she exclaimed, as the bed reached its incline and she got a closer look at him. “I think those dogs must have been jealous of your good looks, Sord, because they went right for your poor face.”

She stroked the hair on the right side of his head, the only place that wasn’t covered in bandages.

Sord sighed. “My God,” he thought. “I’m this close to such beauty, and I look hideous!”

“Well!” Robbie boomed. “You ladies are so kind to take time from your critical studies to visit us. I believe this occasion requires first-person coverage of these daring adventurers, who, as fate would have it, ran into a rabid, vicious pack of fifty racnines after valiantly driving their moto in reverse for kilometers. One of them was already seriously injured, bleeding and nearly spent of oxygen. Care to sit down for a few minutes and I’ll provide the highlights?”

Sord closed his eyes and rested back on the inclined bed, sighing loudly.

Daisy’s head was shaking. “Oh, maybe we should go. I think Sord wants to sleep.”

“No, no, no. Please!” he begged, opening his eyes and sitting up straight. “I’m not tired. Honest. But Robbie saw more than I did. Plus, he kind of saved my ass from getting dragged out of our crevice. He’ll probably never let me forget that. I was to be the appetizer and Robbie the main course. All I remember is the hungry beasts were dripping saliva and frothing in anticipation. So, please stay.”

Feeling he could take some pity liberties, he grabbed Daisy’s free hand and held it tightly now that Robbie had his cue.

“Okay, then. Ladies?” Robbie asked, staring at the other two girls.

Sylvia spoke up. “That’s why we’re here. You two are becoming local heroes, or maybe anti-heroes, of Durango and Hesperus, and we’re anxious to find out all the details so we can let everyone know.”

Robbie recalled the harrowing experience, embellishing every element of the adventure, from his valiantly lifting Sord’s overturned moto into the air and heaving it meters away, to their daring battles with the pack and his rescue of Sord from certain death.

Sord hardly said anything. His heart was beating so fast from holding Daisy’s hand, he thought the nurses might rush in to give him some meds. Lovestruck, he could only nod when Daisy glanced at him in disbelief and wonder.

Just as Robbie was finishing his tale, Becca poked her head through the door.

“Am I in the right room?” she asked.

“Mrs. B!” Robbie yelled, wanting to send a signal to his half-entranced, smitten friend.

Sord sat up in a flash. “Mom?” he replied, unconsciously releasing Daisy’s hand. Despite having not seen her since his near death experience, the last thing he wanted was a visit from his mother at such an inopportune time.

“Dearie, you’re finally awake?”

“Mom!” he whined loudly.

She understood the context. “Are these your friends?”

“Yes,” Robbie interjected. “From Hesperus.”

Daisy moved forward to shake her hand, and the other two girls also introduced themselves.

“Hesperus? I didn’t know you knew each other.”

“Sylvia’s dad led the rescue team, and we thought we’d come by to visit.” Daisy shook her head meekly. “We didn’t want to disturb them, but they were both awake when we got here a half hour ago. I’m sure you probably want to speak to your son and all so we better get going.”

“Don’t go.” The words poured unwittingly from Sord’s mouth as he lifted his right arm to stop them. “Ah!” he yelled aloud, reminded of his wounds.

For Sord, it was no choice. Whom would he rather have there to shower him with affectionate pity and wonder – his mother or Daisy?

“Well, I’m sure the boys are so happy they let you out of school to come visit them. So sweet of you. Maybe once these delinquent young men are capable of ambulating and walking around greater Durango without a drone and doctor following them,” Becca chuckled wryly, “I’m sure they’ll be glad to spend time in Hesperus with you. This is just so nice!”

Not only was she prompting their departure, his mother was now also cracking jokes about them. “Please, Mom!” Sord urged.

The three girls quickly slipped out. Becca faced the hospital room door as she slowly closed it, standing there momentarily while both boys were speechless, awaiting their verbal thrashing. She lifted her head backward and sighed as if to amplify the anxiety before the coming deluge of motherly anger.

Becca finally turned around with lips trembling and tears falling from her cheeks. Then she lunged toward Sord’s bed.

He backed off in fear.

“I’m not going to hurt you!” she explained, slowly placing her outstretched arms around his body.

“It’s not like I died or anything.”

“Do you understand how close you were to death?” she sobbed. “Do you know how worried I was about you two? You’re all I’ve got left, Sord. And Robbie, you are your mother’s only child as well.”

“The only child I know of,” Robbie joked.

Becca ignored him and pulled back to take a look at her son. She had been in his room previously, just after his surgery. Robbie was awake then, and he unloaded his embellished, faultless version of their story on her.

“Should I get out of here and let you two talk?” Robbie asked, thinking he might be able to limp out and catch the girls somewhere in the hospital.

“No,” she demanded. “You’re staying right here with us. Without you, I’d be staring at a few scraps of my sweet boy in the morgue right now.”

“What?” Sord questioned, shifting his shoulders around to loosen his mother’s embrace. “Did you tell her I would have died?”

“Yes, idiot. Sorry, Mrs. B. I think we agreed, Sord, that you were in pretty sucky shape to defend yourself. I’m only putting hero credit where credit is due.”

He grinned confidently, knowing this selfless act of his would provide significant future benefits among his friends, but especially with the girls.

“Well, I suppose that’s the truth,” Sord admitted.

Becca reached for a tissue on the table between the beds. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose loudly.

The boys had been in trouble enough times before that they knew better than to volunteer any useless information to get them in additional hot water. They suspected the heat was to come, and waited for her to initiate the inquisition.

“So, boys,” she began.

Sord had heard her speak in this tone too many times before, every instance an unpleasant one for him.

“Didn’t both of your mothers tell you to bring extra gear along in case something like this might happen?”

“Um hum,” they replied in unison.

She stared at Robbie. “Did our hero in this case fail to take his radio in the event an emergency happened?”

Robbie grimaced and nodded his head downward, his eyes looking upward at her.

“And did both of you go a bit macho overboard when you attempted to simultaneously ascend an impossibly scalable hillside on your motos?”

They knew better than to elaborate. Their heads continued to slowly nod.

She wasn’t finished.

“Were you concerned at all about the little creature discomforts the desert might present to juvenile humans like yourselves? Little things like rattlesnakes, angry javelina hybrids, or racnine packs, to name a few?”

They kept nodding in contrition. After pacing the hospital floor much of the night, however, Becca’s energy was at an ebb as was her wherewithal to chastise the boys and imbue them with life’s immediate lessons.

“Now, I will save my anger for another day. Robbie, how’s your leg doing?”

“Oh, it’s fine,” he replied, relieved she was backing off. “The doctor says I can exit pretty soon today.”

“What?” Sord inquired. “What about me?”

“Dude, you’re just out of surgery and barely coherent,” he snickered.

Becca continued questioning as if she had an ulterior purpose to investigate the nature of their wounds.

“Robbie, when you and I spoke earlier, my mind was still worried about this boy.”

“I’m a man, Mom,” he reminded her.

“Some man, torn to shreds and a few liters of blood spilled somewhere out there on the slate and shale. What about the rest of you?” she asked, casting a concerned look Robbie’s way.

“Pretty good, actually. When my moto overturned, I was thrown away from it and only have bad bruises and the like. My calf is torn up as is my heel from the dog bites. But I’m walking okay in this crappy cast, and there’s little pain as long as I don’t put too much pressure on it. Honestly, I just want to get back to school . . .”

“To tell all your friends about the hero’s journey and such?” she kidded.

He smiled. “Uh, yeah.”

Becca closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m so glad you’re doing okay, and I can’t possibly describe how thankful I am that you placed your own body in front of his to take the damage. That is real courage, and he and I owe you one.”

“Oh, I’ve got pretty strong legs from track, so whacking those dogs with my boots seemed to do the trick just long enough for the cavalry to arrive.”

Her eyes remained closed, and the room was uncomfortably silent for a moment. Then she opened them. “Now, let’s take a look at you, my son.”

She was sitting on the bed, staring sternly downward at Sord.

“I know all about your fracture because I spoke with the orthopedic surgeon. She said it was one of the uglier breaks she’d seen in her days, probably not helped by jamming into a small crevice together or jostling around on a moto while trying to get back.”

She peered at Robbie with a look of standard parental disappointment. “Because you failed to bring extra radios.”

“Uh, sorry,” Robbie apologized. “Who knew we’d both flip and smash the radios?”

“Radio singular, not plural.”

She felt she had admonished the poor boy enough.

“Lucky for you, Dearie, this good plastic surgeon had just arrived from a trip to Silver City, otherwise you would have required a lot more work on your face.”

Sord sat at attention, waiting to hear whether he’d ever look normal again.

“You’re probably wondering if this will damage the good looks you got from your dad.”

Lips puckered, he shook his head rapidly to acknowledge.

“Well, it appears the racnine that gouged your face only went away with a handful of cheek muscle and layers of skin. The bone was relatively undamaged. Thank God he didn’t gouge your eyes.”

“And . . .”

“And he thinks you’ll look normal again, but we’re talking a few months because that tech they put inside your face to regrow everything the way it was will take time. This medicine is not like they used to have, since there were so many issues with the fast-acting, old stuff.”

Her head bobbed to the left and right as she surveyed the rest of his face.

“And how in God’s name did you get that massive knot on your forehead, bub? Did the shift knob on the moto or seat or something else smash your head? I am so worried about how it looks. They’ve agreed to run other tests in a few days to ensure you don’t have longer term damage like a concussion or worse.”

Sord was silent. He was an unfortunate but unseen victim of the recent arguing, yelling, and occasional screaming that occurred, often in the evening, between his mother and Matt.

Matt, a recent immigrant to Prosperity, was having trouble adjusting to its new demands. A surveillance drone found him emaciated and near death in the nearby desert, one of many that monitored Prosperity’s settlements and boundaries day and night. These drones were necessary because, even fifty-seven years after the devastation from GDII, stragglers and refuges would regularly show up in the proximity of Prosperity’s borders.

Matt possessed enough knowledge of Prosperity’s entrance requirements that he claimed refugee status once he was found. This allowed him avoid some of the crucial reconditioning training normally mandated before being allowed full access into society.

Sord had seen enough of Matt’s type to understand the reasons for high immigrant recidivism rates, and he was aware of many other instances where reconditioning had not worked effectively. Most of the stragglers and refugees arriving from various encampments of humans and hybrids often were raised in devolved societal states. In such camps, anarchy was the norm: might made right, and physical dominance and cunning ruled until it was eventually replaced by thugs more ruthless than the prior crew.

Matt’s imposing size didn’t help matters for Sord. He was six-five, towering dominantly over Sord’s five foot frame. He would often use his physical largess around their apartment to his advantage, subtly taunting or putting Sord down.

Matt would engage odd behaviors that no other adults he knew did, like challenging Sord’s access in the kitchen or sticking his foot out for him to trip over, then laughing that ‘it was just a joke, no harm intended.’

But Sord knew better. Matt was not right in the head and not right for Prosperity given its well-defined rules for human decency.

In his early years in the encampments, Matt had been injected with every available adaptive drug and genetic modification to survive the challenging post-GDII conditions. These various remedies, however, were concocted in poorly maintained labs under nominal supervision, and they typically interacted negatively with each other, resulting in unplanned, longer-term consequences.

Such consequences were almost always detrimental to the recipient. Emotional confusion and irrationality. Narcissism. Superiority and grandeur delusions. Paranoia. Lack of self-moderation. Antisocial behavior.

Coupled with substandard living conditions, the lack of positive social norms, and constant violent interpersonal conflicts, successful conversions from these camps into Prosperity’s way of life had become exceptions to the rule. As a result, many immigrants were forced to leave Prosperity, despite months of training and investment.

Sord considered Matt lazy in everything he did. He often ordered Sord around as if he was his personal servant. ‘Get me this’ or ‘where did you put that’ or ‘go see what your mother wants.’ He never saw Matt lift a finger other than to gain advantage for himself.

Sord couldn’t fathom what his mother found in Matt or why she’d allow him to be around her, much less sleep at their apartment on an increasingly frequent basis. He felt Matt was abusing her in some deleterious way, affecting her ability to think clearly and see him for who he really was.

“He’s just fucked up, an irreparable beast unleashed from its cage and roaming the city, deciding what to damage or devour next. Nothing will ever change that,” Sord would tell himself.