My bones ache like they never have before. It’s like if I fall asleep, I’ll never wake up again. A part of me doesn’t want to wake up. But I know I have to keep going. If not for myself, for Hunter.

I’ve already named the baby growing in my belly. Maybe it’s foolish, but I don’t care. The mortality rate for babies is high when you don’t have access to doctors. But I’ve grown so protective of baby Hunter over the past few months, feeling him kick inside me, knowing he’s always with me.

I love him. I love my baby, and I’m looking forward to the day I’ll meet him.

But his dad… well, good riddance. There are scars on my back, bruises on my arms, reminders of my time with him.

I left because there was no way I was letting Hunter grow up around someone so violent and abusive. I don’t want him to think it’s okay for people to treat each other like that. My ex is the worst kind of person, and I never want to see him again.

I’m seeking a new life.

As I finally crest the hill, nearly collapsing on the ground, I see the lights of Stelline City in the distance. I’m almost there. When I get to the outskirts, I’ll be able to find someone who can give me a ride downtown. I have just enough money I squirreled away over the past year to pay for a month’s worth of living expenses. But after that point… I don’t know what I’ll do. I’ll be taking care of a newborn, so I won’t be able to work. Maybe being homeless on the streets of Stelline City will be better than the town I came from, but…

I shake the thoughts from my mind. I can’t think like that. If I fall into the familiar spiral of self-pity, I’ll be lost. And I don’t want to lose myself. Not when baby Hunter needs me.

I decide to camp here for the night; it looks like it’ll be a couple hours’ walk into the city, and I don’t want to arrive in the middle of the night.

I find some shrubs which provide cover, and set up my tiny tent and blanket, wishing I had more food. I’m not worried for myself, but for Hunter. I don’t want him to become malnourished. I have just enough to keep me from starving, but food will be one of my first priorities when I get into the city.

As I pull my blanket around myself and look up at the stars through a mesh panel in the tent’s ceiling, I wondered if I’m doing the right thing.

Hunter turns inside me, trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in. I rub my stomach gently.

Of course I’m doing the right thing.

The hot scrubland sun bears down on me, and I immediately shade my eyes as soon as I open them. It’s already uncomfortably hot inside the tent. Summer is brutal, and I only have so much water left. I have to get to Stelline City as soon as possible.

I pack up my stuff, eat a small portion of my food rations, and quickly make my way down the path leading to the foot of the hill, wishing I could travel at night instead. But I can’t. I heard weird rumors about Stelline City, rumors that wolves live there. It doesn’t make sense, since I don’t think this part of the country ever had wolves, but I’m not taking any chances when Hunter’s safety is in my hands.

So far, I’ve been incredibly lucky. As I approach the city, watching the skyscrapers grow bigger and clearer, I think about how it’s a miracle I made it out of Spruce Springs at all. My heart lifts when I start to hear the sounds of the city—electric cars whirring by, people chattering, the mechanical sounds of the city’s infrastructure, bullet trains and subway systems chugging along.

I can find a place here. I know it.

When I enter what appears to be a run-down suburban area, I realize I can start looking for food. It’s been days since I’ve even set foot in a store. I keep my eyes peeled and eventually spot a convenience store.

It’s a bizarre feeling to return to civilization after days of camping in the wilderness. Everyone’s eyes are immediately drawn to me, no doubt because I’m grimy and I look incredibly pregnant, like I’m about to pop. I try to ignore their stares, and after a moment, they forget about me. That’s the nice thing about these urban areas—you can be relatively anonymous if you want to.

I grab a shopping basket and start putting stuff in, trying to be discerning despite my parched throat and my grumbling belly. Hunter’s agitated; I feel him kick a little bit.

I pick out two bottles of water—I hate spending money on bottled water, but you can’t trust the tap water quality everywhere—as well as some cheap sandwiches. I also grab myself a chocolate bar. I can’t really afford to indulge my cravings, but I know it’ll help my spirits remain high. And I can’t underestimate the importance of mental health when trying to survive.

I go up to the counter and put my basket down, rummaging in my pocket for my wallet while the cashier totals my purchases. I hold my cash card out to him, glad that the system still works. I hate carrying paper money.

The cashier raises an eyebrow. “Uh, do you have a blue card?”

“A what now?” I ask. My brain’s fuzzy and I can barely stand up straight. I’m leaning on the counter, the hard edge cutting into my skin.

“Blue card? SSA?” When I continue to blink at him, he sighs. “Stelline Savings account. We don’t accept cash cards here. You’re from out of town, aren’t you?” The cashier tilts his head at me.

“Oh, um, yeah, I’m new here,” I say, fear rising like bile in my throat as I realize I might not be able to take the water and sandwiches with me. In that moment, I want those soggy slices of bread and turkey more than anything.

The cashier presses his lips together and wrinkles his nose. He looks just a few years younger than me, but he has that blasé expression I’ve come to associate with convenience store cashiers. I don’t think there’s any chance of sympathy from him.

“Well, you’re going to need a blue card if you want to buy anything,” he says. “I can’t help you.”

“Are… are you sure?” I ask, reluctant to beg but knowing I might have to for the good of my child. I hadn’t anticipated this problem at all—it doesn’t make sense that stores in a big city like Stelline won’t accept the national cash card system.

“You didn’t hear?” drawls someone from behind me. “The cash card system is being dismantled this week.”

“What?” I turn around to see who’s speaking.

“Move along, please,” says the cashier, irritated. He hands my basket of goods back to me. “Next customer.”

I step out of line, too exhausted to be angry. Instead I regard the person who spoke to me.

He’s a tall, stocky man in a suit. He looks high class, like he doesn’t belong in this neighborhood at all. I can see the sparkle of his watch and cufflinks as he slips a finger into his breast pocket and pulls out a blue, shimmering card.

“I’ll pay for you, come on,” he says.

“W-what?”

“Come on,” he repeats. “I’m not letting a pregnant omega go without food and water.”

“Oh, th-thanks,” I say, amazed at this stroke of luck. Though I don’t know what he called me. An omega? Was that it?

The cashier’s expression is blank as he rings my products up again and takes the man’s blue card. Within minutes, I’m guzzling the water like I’ll never drink water again. When I’m finished, I feel much better, though I know I’ll have to get a move on. I clearly need to open a Stelline Savings account, whatever that is, if I want any hope of surviving in this place.

I wipe the water from my face and put the bottle back in the shopping bag, regarding my benefactor.

“So, you’re new here, huh?” he asks, regarding me thoughtfully. I have no idea how he’s not burning to death in the brutally hot sun. Even though we’re under the shade of the store’s awning, I’m overheating.

“Yeah,” I say. “I’m here to seek a better life, cheesy as it sounds. For this guy.” I pat my stomach.

The man smiles kindly, a gesture I didn’t expect from him. “You’re gonna be a great dad, then,” he says softly. “You need a ride? I’m heading into town. I can help you get an SSA as well.”

The man presses a button on his watch and in seconds, a beautiful, shiny car slides up to the curb.

Where I come from, rich-looking hot shots do not just offer rides in sleek black top-of-the-line electric cars to random, grimy homeless people. I haven’t washed in a week and I smell like it. I have no idea why he’s even giving me the time of day.

“Um, I’d appreciate it,” I say, suddenly wary. Maybe he has an ulterior motive. My guard’s up, but I don’t have any better options. I’ll go with him for now.

“Come on, then,” he says. As we step toward the car, the doors automatically open. He takes my bag and backpack from me, and I slide into the seat. It’s wonderful to be in a clean, air-conditioned seat. I can’t believe how much I missed sitting on a proper chair and not dirt and grass.

The doors slide shut and we take off. With a start, I realize the car doesn’t have a driver. I know driverless cars exist, but only the richest people have them. But looking out the window at the highway, it seems like every third car is driverless, and so many of them look brand new, with the distinctive whirring sound of electric motors. Back in Spruce Springs, most people still rely on internal combustion engines.

Who the hell is this guy, anyway? He’s loaded.

I turn back to him and see that he’s taken one of my sandwiches out, offering it to me. “You clearly have to eat,” he says, concern in his eyes. “It’s ten minutes to the bank, so you have time.”

He’s completely taken control of the situation, but I don’t mind. It feels good to relax.

Not that I can completely relax. I have to be careful. I’m in the big city, after all, and I’ve heard enough horror stories.

But for now, I enjoy the sandwich. It feels good to eat cold meat—I’ve pretty much only had warm, stale bread and pathetic-looking vegetables for the past week.

“So,” says the man, after giving me a few minutes to stuff my face. “Why Stell?”

Stell? I realize belatedly he means Stelline. That must be what the locals call it. The sandwich made me feel a lot better, but my brain’s still fuzzy.

I don’t know how much to tell him. “Ex and I split up,” I say. “I figured I’d get better medical care and more job opportunities here.”

He nods. “A worthy goal.”

I hesitate, wondering if I should ask what he called me earlier. An omega… the word sounds familiar for some reason, but I can’t put my finger on it.

“Here we are,” he says.

“Wait a minute,” I say, as the car slows and the doors slide open. “I didn’t catch your name.”

The man smiles a wide, toothy grin, his dark eyes sparkling in the sunlight. “The name’s Carson,” he says. “Carson Fleur.”

“Nice to meet you, Carson,” I say. “I’m Harley Bellow.”

“And the same to you. Here, you’ll need your ID and cash card from your wallet,” says Carson, handing me my bag.

I take a moment to dig out my wallet and phone. The phone’s dead now, because my solar charger died before I entered the wilderness, but maybe the bank has an extra.

We step out of the car. It’s strange to see it drive off by itself, neatly disappearing behind the bank and into an underground parking structure.

“I don’t have an address here yet,” I say. “Or a job. Are they going to let me open an account?”

Carson holds the door open for me, and I step into the welcoming, cold room. “It’s not a problem. They’ll sign you up for a Stelline Citizen ID.”

There’s clearly a lot to learn about how things work around here. I have to get a charger as soon as possible, so I can plug back into the world. Carson mentioned earlier that the cash card system was dismantled, and somehow I completely missed that major piece of news.

I follow Carson further into the bank. A couple people greet him and he nods at them, and he eventually leads me into an office where another older man in a suit sits.

“Hey, Gerry,” says Carson. “This is Harley. Harley, Gerry. Gerry’s an old friend of mine and he’ll help you get set up.”

I’m incredibly grateful to Carson. Even if there is some funny business going on—I’m still suspicious about why he’s helping me so much—this is a huge boon for me.

“Thank you,” I say, addressing both of them and sitting down.

“Harley’s new in town and needs an account,” says Carson simply. “He needs to close his cash card account, too, and get a Stelline ID.”

“No problem,” says Gerry, tapping away at his computer screen. There’s silence for a moment as the computer buzzes and beeps and Gerry looks in some drawers for what I assume is paperwork. He produces a set of papers and a pen.

“Do you uh, have a charger, by chance? My phone hasn’t been charged in a week,” I ask.

“Sure,” says Gerry. He holds out his hand and takes my phone, then plugs it into a solar panel on the windowsill.

“That explains why you didn’t know about the cash card meltdown,” says Carson, understanding dawning on his face.

I shrug. “I didn’t have access to the news for the past week.”

“Makes sense. Well, long story short, they’re ending the cash card program because politics, blah blah, and now each territory is required to manage its own program. I think they were having trouble with under the table cash transactions. Or something. Who knows why politicians do what they do,” says Carson.

“Amen,” agrees Gerry. “Now Harley, fill the paperwork out here, and here…”

He shows me what to do and I take a few minutes to read and fill out the paperwork. It’s straightforward, and like Carson said, it doesn’t matter if I don’t have a permanent address. It seems like it’ll be a fairly seamless transfer from my cash card.

A machine behind Gerry pings, and he swivels around in his chair.

“Here’s your Stelline Savings card,” he says, handing it to me.

I take it from him and look at it. The shimmering blue metal is much prettier than the bland gray of the national cash card. The logo of Stelline City, a cluster of stars, shimmers in the corner, right above my name and information.

“And here’s your Stelline ID,” says Gerry, handing me yet another card. This one is also beautifully designed, though the picture is my old one from when I first got my cash card. It’s convenient that all these computer networks are linked now, but I wish they weren’t because I really need a new picture.

I don’t look like the sixteen year old boy on that card anymore. That boy had no idea what was coming for him. His smile is pure and unburdened, and his eyes are bright.

Well, maybe at least Hunter will look like that someday, if not me.

“You should be good to go,” says Gerry. “I’ll hold on to your cash card, as the bank shreds those. You shouldn’t have any problems, but our number is on the cards if you do.”

“Thank you so much,” I say, relieved. Now I can actually pay for stuff in this city.

“Not a problem,” says Gerry, standing up and shaking my hand again. His grip is firm, even though he seems older and a little frail. “Oh, I almost forgot.” He retrieves my phone and hands it to me. “Looks like it’s half full.”

“Oh good, thanks,” I say.

“Thanks, Gerry,” adds Carson, and before I know it, I’m back in his driverless car, reveling in the air conditioning. I don’t think I can be cold enough.

“Where to next?” he asks me.

“Um… I really don’t know,” I say. “I guess I need to find housing. And a doctor, stat. Hunter’s due this month.”

“So you basically need to set up a whole new life,” says Carson.

“Yeah,” I say, looking away, a little embarrassed. I don’t want Carson to feel obligated to take on the huge burden of helping me. It’s a tall task, and there’s a lot I need to do. And it’s urgent, because I need to have a comfortable space and situation set up before Hunter arrives. I don’t even know who’s going to help me with the baby, but I can deal with that later.

“It’s not so difficult to do here,” says Carson nonchalantly. “The city runs hostels for visitors and temporary guests. You can stay there while you figure out a place to live. There are some nice little houses and apartments in good areas. Even though Stell’s a big city, you can find something affordable, since the city council tries to keep the cost of living low. And your Stelline ID, when you link it up with your new address, will afford you free healthcare.”

“Free healthcare?” My eyes bug out.

“Yeah,” says Carson, as if it’s normal—and maybe for him, it is. “So don’t worry about the baby. In fact, if you can prove you’re looking for housing, they might help a bit with the bills, until you get into the Stelline system.”

“That sounds almost too good to be true,” I say, still incredulous. Maybe there’s something wrong with what he’s saying. Maybe the free healthcare and hostels only apply to rich people, people who look like him. Not grimy small town folks like me.

“It’s just how life is here in Stelline,” says Carson. “The city has its problems, but we make it work. I guess it’s a lot different from you’re from, huh?”

“Totally. There’s so much different, I don’t even know where I’d start.”

Carson looks at me, a thoughtful expression in his eyes. I can’t help but notice how handsome he is, with light laugh lines around his mouth and strong brows. He looks like a good guy. But there’s no way I’m letting my thoughts go beyond that. I’m still reeling from my previous relationship.

Still, it’s nice to have some eye candy.

“I hope the other governments take a hint already,” says Carson finally. “We’re clearly doing something right. Time for the rest of the territories to get with the program.”

I don’t pay much attention to politics. It’s hard to, when you’re focused on surviving. I can’t think of anything to say, so I nod noncommittally.

“Here we are,” says Carson, as the car slows to a stop in front of a building made of dark gray bricks. It looks like some kind of fancy hotel; I can see a chandelier in the lobby.

“Is this where you live?” I ask.

“No, this is where you’re going to live,” says Carson. “For now, at least.”

“What the…” I can’t believe my eyes. Never in a million years will I be able to afford a place like this. “You sure there isn’t anywhere… more uh, more affordable?”

Carson chuckles. “Go on in and talk to them. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.”

So far, Carson hasn’t screwed me over, so I want to believe him. But I find it extremely hard to believe I’ll be staying in a place so fancy.

“Hey, why don’t I get your number?” says Carson. “Please, let me know if you need any help. It’s hard to come to a new place when you don’t know anyone.”

“Wow, thanks,” I say, retrieving my phone. I can’t at all imagine why Carson’s being so nice to me. It’s the middle of the day on a Wednesday. Doesn’t he have better things to do?

After entering his number, he hands my phone back to me. “Seriously, don’t hesitate if you need anything.”

“Got it,” I say, oddly reluctant to leave the car. I felt almost… safe with Carson around. That isn’t surprising, because he just massively helped me, but it isn’t just that. There’s something else I can’t put my finger on.

“Take care, Harley,” he says as I step out of the car, grabbing my backpack and shopping bag.

“Thanks for everything.” I wish I could do more to convey how grateful I am. Carson might have just saved my life—and Hunter’s.

He smiles at me as the door slides shut again, and the car gently picks up speed and merges back onto the road. I’m left in front of this fancy hostel, intimidated to go inside in my dirty condition. I look around and spot a couple of convenience stores, a coffee shop, and some boutiques. It looks like I can pick up some basic supplies here.

But I can’t believe I’ve made it. I’m in Stelline City, finally embarking on my new life with Hunter. We’re going to make it. I just know it.

I turn around and step into the hostel lobby, since the sun’s hitting me hard again. I take a deep breath and walk up to the counter. I can do this.

I have to.