"No, I can't." Where the hell was her backup? Where was the jumper team, the shrinks? Name of God. "What's the kid's name?"
"I can't take care of him anymore. I'm tired."
"He's scared." Sweat rolled down her back as she eased a step closer. It was brutally hot, heat bouncing off the sticky tar of the roof in shimmering waves. "And he's hot. So are you. Why don't we go back there in the shade for a minute?"
"He cries all the damn time. All night. I never get any sleep. I can't stand it."
"Maybe you should give him to me. He's heavy. What's his name?"
"Pete." Sweat poured off the woman's face, had her short, dark hair sticking in ringlets to her cheeks. "He's sick. We're both sick, so what's the point?"
The child was screaming, one shrieking wail after another. The sound of it sliced her head, her heart. "I know some people who can help."
"You're just a fucking cop. You can't do shit."
"If you jump, nobody can. Jesus, it's hot out here. Let's go inside, figure this out."
The woman let out a weary sigh. "Go to hell."
Eve made the leap, caught the boy around the waist as the woman leaned forward. His screams were like razors scraping over her brain as she made one desperate grab. She hooked the woman under the armpit, dug in desperately while her muscles trembled and threatened to rip. The toes of her boots slapped hard into the wall of the ledge to keep the weight from sending them all to the sidewalk below.
"Hold on. Goddamn it." Sweat poured into her eyes, stinging, blinding while she struggled for better purchase. The boy was wiggling like a wet fish. "Grab onto me!" she shouted as the woman stared up at her with eyes already empty.
"Sometimes you're better off dead. You should know. Dallas." The woman smiled as she said Eve's name. And she laughed as Eve's grip began to slip.
Then she was i
n another alley, shivering, curled into a ball of pain and numb shock.
And she was a child, battered and broken, without a name, without a past.
They were using her own memories now, sliding them in from her early data records. She hated them for it, hated them with a rage that simmered nastily under a slick coat of panic.
An alley in Dallas, a young girl with a bloody face, a broken arm, and nowhere to run.
Goddamn you. Damn all of you. She's not part of this. She wanted to scream it, to fight her way clear of the influence and images being poured into her brain and crash through the glass wall.
Her pulse began to race, her rage began to rise. And with barely a blink, the program shifted her to the streets of lower Manhattan, on a frigid night. Bowers stood in front of her, leering.
"You stupid bitch, I'll bury you in complaints. Everyone's going to know what you are. Nothing but a whore who fucked her way up the ranks."
"You've got a real problem, Bowers. Maybe after I finish writing you up for insubordination, threatening a superior officer, and being a general asshole, the department will find its balls and kick you clear."
"We'll see who they kick." Bowers shoved hard, taking Eve back two steps.
The fury was there, right there, shooting out of her heart, trembling in her fingertips. "Don't put your hands on me."
"What the hell are you going to do about it? Nobody's here but you and me. You think you can come down on my turf and make threats."
"I'm not threatening you, I'm telling you. Keep your hands off me, keep out of my face, out of my business, or you'll pay for it."
"I'm going to ruin you. I'm going to strip you bare and expose you, and there's not a damn thing you can do to stop me."
"Yeah. Oh yeah, there is."
Eve found the metal pipe in her hand. Felt her fingers curl tightly around it, her muscles bunch and brace to swing. More annoyed than surprised, she tossed it aside, leaned in, and grabbed Bowers by the front of her uniform coat. "Put your hands on me again, and I'll knock you on your fat ass. File all the complaints you want, my rep will hold. But I promise you, I'll see you out of that uniform and off the streets before I'm done. You're a fucking disgrace."
She released her in disgust, started to walk away. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a blur of movement. She ducked, spun, and felt the pipe whistle by her head and ruffle her hair.