Johnathan Cooper loaded the last rescue into a waiting van, then uttered the three craziest words he could have said after just narrowly escaping a war zone. “I’m going back.”

 

“The hell you are,” his partner grunted. “We finally got everyone clear. It’s time to move out.”

 

Johnathan cast a worried glance over his shoulder. "I'm not leaving an innocent child behind to die."

 

"You don't even know that an innocent child is what you saw.  We've got to get out of here. Agents are coming back for another sweep."

 

"Start the truck and do a final check. I'll come right back."

 

"You know if they see us helping ditchbreeds, we’re dead.”

 

Johnathan’s eyes flashed. “They aren’t ditchbreeds. They're rescues.” Johnathan grabbed another clip of ammo and took off. “If I’m not back in ten minutes, leave without me and get those rescues to a shelter.”

 

“Dammit, Johnathan!"

 

"I'll catch up. Go!" Johnathan shouted, ducking back into a dirty, narrow alleyway between two large concrete buildings as he pushed his partner in the opposite direction.

 

Driving rain blurred Johnathan’s vision and trickled down his neck beneath his coat as he jogged towards a large dumpster. It was stationed crookedly against the wall of the adjacent building, one corner jutting out with two large plastic cargo crates sitting behind.

 

He crept closer, keeping one ear cocked to listen for approaching Agents. An Agent’s job was to locate and eliminate any and all ditchbreeds- rescues, Johnathan corrected himself- and he didn't want to think about what would happen if the Agents caught him helping a rescue instead. He’d heard about the killing of other Renegades, men and women like himself who had died at the hands of Agents not wanting to leave anyone behind who would get in the way of their ditchbreed extermination.

 

‘Purifying the sin from society’, they called it.

 

Being a Renegade was a dangerous job, but living as a rescue was even more so. Johnathan spent his life doing what he could to keep rescues out of the murderous hands of the government Agents sent to track them down. He and his partner had been able to intercept three rescues on this raid, and they were currently stowed in their fellow runner’s truck, awaiting transport to a rescue shelter. But Johnathan couldn’t leave knowing there might have been one more that they missed.

 

Johnathan inserted himself into the tight space between the wall and the dumpster. Peering around the garbage bin, he sucked in a breath when he saw the small, huddled form of a young boy.  "Hey there," Johnathan said softly. Johnathan couldn't see the top side of the child's left wrist as it was covered by his soaking wet sleeve, but he knew what would be imprinted there. He needed to get this child somewhere safe, before the Agents could get to him.

 

"It looks pretty cold back there. Do you want to come out?" He extended his arm into the slim opening between the wall and the dumpster, but the child had wedged himself too far back inside one of the crates for Johnathan to reach him.

 

The boy made no effort to move forward. "How old are you?” Johnathan asked gently, trying to keep the child distracted while he contemplated a way to get him out.

 

The boy stared back at him, a terrified look frozen on his dirt-streaked face. Wet, chestnut hair plastered itself to his forehead as his eyes dropped fearfully to Johnathan’s gun.

 

“Hey, it’s okay. I know this is scary but I’m going to make sure you get out of here, yeah?” Johnathan holstered his weapon and reached his hand out towards the little boy, who shrunk back further against the broken walls of the plastic crate. “Come on, baby.  We need to go. You aren't safe here.” Johnathan glanced behind him to check for Agents, but for now the street was clear. This boy, long forgotten by any other members of the rescue camp, sure knew how to hide. The thought broke Johnathan’s heart. “Do you know where your parents are?”

 

Tears filled the little boy’s eyes. Johnathan felt them like a punch to his gut. “Do you have parents, or any family that might be looking for you?”

 

The boy bit his bottom lip and shook his head, a tear escaping his eyelid to roll a salty line down his cheek.

 

The thought that anyone would abandon this scared little boy sent a shot of anger coursing through Johnathan. “What’s your name?” He kept his voice calm, though they needed to hurry. Every extra minute they stayed only increased their chances of being caught.

 

The boy drew his knees up to his chest, his hands fisting into the sleeves of his oversized sweatshirt. Johnathan started to reach into his jacket, but paused when the boy started to whimper. “Hey. Hey, it’s alright. I just want to show you a picture. Is that okay?” He slowly resumed his movement, plucking a greying photograph from his inside jacket pocket. The edges were weather worn and the bottom was stained from years of fingerprints, but Johnathan would keep it on his person until the day he died. It was what kept him going, especially on days like this.

 

Johnathan extended his hand towards the boy, the photo held face out in between his thumb and forefinger. “These are my little guys. That’s my son, Declan, and the little girl there in the ponytail is Rae. You look about her age.” Nine or ten, give or take, Johnathan guessed. He couldn’t judge this child’s height due to his curled up position. “Do you have a name?” The boy still didn't speak, causing Johnathan to wonder if he even could.

 

Johnathan offered him a soft smile, one that turned genuine as the rescue drew forward slightly, his eyes locked on the photo in Johnathan’s hand. Johnathan was watching the young boy carefully, taking in his torn clothes, his dirty face, and hair that was stringy, unwashed, and much too long. His face was gaunt, his cheeks hollowed, and Johnathan tried not to think about how long it may have been since this boy last had something to eat, or how cold he must be in this rain.

 

Talking about his children had stopped this little boy’s hands from shaking, so Johnathan continued.  “Rae is a handful. She likes to take off, get into trouble.” It was gone quickly, but Johnathan had noticed the look of yearning in the boy’s eyes. “Luckily, she’s got her brother Declan to help watch out for her.”

 

This child might be around the same age as Johnathan’s daughter, but his eyes lacked the joy for life that hers possessed.  The decision that Johnathan had made the second he had laid eyes on this shaking little boy, scared and alone with no one to comfort him, was finalized with one thought.

 

He wasn’t leaving him behind, and the Agents would only get to this sweet child over Johnathan’s dead body.

 

Johnathan pulled his arm back, tucking the picture back into his jacket pocket. When he reached his arm out again, his hand was warm and welcoming. “Would you like to have someone looking out for you, son?”

 

The boy wiped his forehead on his sleeve, keeping his face partially hidden, as if thinking for a moment. “I bet Rae would like to have another playmate at home,” Johnathan continued. “And I know Declan would love to have a brother, to help gang up on his sister.” The little boy was once again watching Johnathan closely, not with fear but with curiosity and, Johnathan thought, a tiny bit of hope.

 

Just when the child started to reach his hand out towards Johnathan’s, the sound of multiple sets of footsteps rapidly approaching made both of their heads spin around.

 

“Clear the area. No one gets left behind alive.” The gritty voice came from just around the corner.

 

Johnathan’s heart raced, but he kept his voice steady as he spoke to the boy. “I can get you out of here, but we have to go now.” Johnathan took another look over his shoulder, praying that the Agents wouldn't spot him crouched against the wet stone wall of the alley. His body was partially hidden behind the dumpster, as he was squeezed as far between it and the wall as he could, trying to coax the child out. But all it would take was one Agent coming up on them from behind, and he and the boy would both be cornered. 

 

Agents would shoot him where he stood for helping a rescue instead of killing it. And the boy...

 

The footsteps grew louder, thudding heavily against the wet pavement. The boy whimpered again, the fearful, lonely sound ripping a hole into Johnathan's heart. “Listen, baby, we have to go, okay?  We have to leave, right now. Those men are bad and they want you to get hurt. I can help you, but you have to come out.” He was inches away from being able to grab the child’s hand, if he would just crawl a little bit closer. 

 

Johnathan grabbed the photo of his son and daughter again, and offered it to the little boy. “You can hold this when you come on out, if you want.” The muscles in his shoulder burned with the strain of as reaching his arm further, trying to connect with the boy’s hand. “Come on, baby. Come with me.” The child inched forward, his light brown eyes pleading pitifully up at Johnathan.

 

Johnathan held the gaze of this poor, helpless child, and made a vow he would keep for the rest of his life. “I promise I will keep you safe.”

 

A voice, sharp and dangerous as steel, cut through the rain. “Area not secure. I hear movement.”

 

Johnathan cursed. They were running out of time. “Come on, baby,” he whispered.

 

“There’s someone back here!”

 

Johnathan spun around and fired two bullets straight into the Agent’s chest before the man could get out another word. As soon as he turned back towards the plastic crate, the child launched himself at Johnathan, hiding his wet face in the crook of Johnathan’s shoulder. The boy locked his arms around Johnathan’s neck, hanging on for dear life.

 

“It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you. Hold on tight, that’s it.” The little boy’s legs wrapped around Johnathan’s waist. “Keep your head down, and just hang on to me, alright?” He felt the boy’s small hands fist in his shirt, and Johnathan cupped one hand around the back of his head and placed the other on his back, holding him tight as he stepped around the blood soaked Agent’s body and made his way out of the alley.

 

Checking left, then right, Johnathan darted across the street, turning the next corner and moving stealthily around three more buildings, constantly looking and listening over his shoulder. The child in his arms weighed far less than he should, making it easier for Johnathan to keep a hold on both him and his pistol as he made his way towards the exit point.

 

“The hell is this?” His partner grunted, throwing open the backseat door of their truck.

 

“I told you, I wasn't leaving him.” Johnathan tried to place the little boy in the backseat, but he only whimpered and clung harder to Johnathan’s jacket. Jumping into the seat first and placing the boy on his lap, Johnathan stuck his gun into the pocket of the passenger seat in front of him. “Get going. There are at least two more Agents behind me.”

 

His partner looked back at Johnathan from the driver’s seat, his eyes locked on the child’s imprinted wrist, now visible where his sleeve had bunched up his arm.

 

Johnathan glanced at the dark ink print marking the boy’s skin, then back at his partner. “Go!” His partner punched the gas, roaring away from the city.

 

Once they were far enough out, Johnathan let his head fall back against the seat. He closed his eyes, shutting out the events of the raid so he could murmur soothing words to the child in his arms, trying to stop his poor little body from shaking. “Shh, it’s okay. You’re safe.”

 

“We ain’t taking him to a shelter, are we?” his partner surmised.

 

Johnathan cupped the back of the child’s head. “No. We’re not. Jared is coming home with me.”

 

“…Jared?”

 

Johnathan swallowed. “It’s what Elise and I were gonna name...if we had been able to have a third. Before she…”

 

His partner grunted in response, glancing in his rear view mirror. “I think we’re out of the woods. For now.”

 

Johnathan held the boy close, absorbing Jared’s tremors into his own body as he clamped a hand around the child’s tainted wrist. “You’re okay now. You’re safe. You’ve still got that photo? You’re gonna meet them, my Rae and my Declan. They’re going to love you. You’re safe now.” Johnathan continued to utter soft platitudes to soothe the boy in his arms, clutching him tighter as his partner wove their truck around sharp turns and back roads to ensure that no one was on their tail.

 

After several moments, Johnathan’s partner finally spoke again. “We’re taking enough of a risk helping rescues get to shelters under the noses of those dumbass Agents as it is,” he said gruffly. “You have any idea what they would do to you if they knew you took a damn rescue home yourself?”

 

Johnathan’s arms wrapped more securely around the boy. “That’s why they can’t find out.”