His eyes were cast down, but Zane was aware of everything around him. The crunch of his feet on the slowly building layer of snow kept his senses sharp in the bitter cold. The city was more robust despite the weather. Usually the winter meant hiding, both from gangs and the cold. The town was slowly recuperating from Chief Caswell’s detrimental rule over the Enforcers Unit, and their reinvigoration was visible. Now there were civilians all over the streets.

Zane didn’t like it.

The tall black collar of his insulated jacket masked the bottom half of his face as his warm breath brushed against his skin. After a few blocks, he didn’t feel the need to check for followers. If any of the Runners were tailing him, he would have caught on to them. The only one he worried about was Olivia; she was the stealthiest, and possibly the smartest of who was left at the complex. In Zane’s mind, Taro knew better than to follow him, Valerie was incapable of doing so, and Nole was just irrelevant.

Slivers of the afternoon’s sun cut through the overcast like a calculated spotlight. For once, there were kids roaming the streets alone. They chased each other, gathering what little snow they could in attempts of starting a snowball fight. Zane wondered how late they would be willing to stay out. After Tom had taken over, the Enforcers were on duty twenty-four hours a day. Still, the gangs hadn’t disappeared, and it would only be a matter of time until they made a comeback. They always did.

Zane tracked the movements of the children around him. There were seven of them, four boys and three girls. He judged them to be between eight and ten, respectively. Why they thought it was a good idea to run around the city unsupervised, Zane didn’t care. He just walked.

As he kept an eye out for potential threats, he didn’t bother to observe the children any further. It wasn’t until he became the target for one little boy, that he returned his attention to them. A snowball, more accurately a miniature clump of ice, was hurled in Zane’s direction, missing him by inches. It landed in front of him, right at his feet.

Normally, Zane didn’t allow anything to distract him, but he was feeling particularly agitated that afternoon.

“Noah, what are you doing?” One of the little girls mistakenly revealed who had targeted Zane. That’s all he needed.

“Oops,” a boy replied, the sarcasm evident in his tone. “My bad.”

“Noah, sto-”

The boy cut her off. “It was an accident, Hannah! Sheesh!”

Zane hadn’t turned to face them. Instead, he stood in place, inches from the snowball. When he checked their position from the corner of his eye, Zane noticed them frozen in place and eying him fearfully; all except Noah.

After a few seconds, Zane resumed his pace, moving one foot in front of the other. It didn’t take long for another snowball to be thrown his way, and this time, it hit. Striking the back of his jacket, Zane heard the attack more than he felt it. Snickers ensued from most of the kids, but the girl, Hannah, scolded Noah once again.

“Look what you did!”

Noah wasn’t apologetic in the least. “My bad, sis.” A triumphant smile spread across his lips. Zane turned to face them this time, and they flinched instantly. He didn’t care that they were children. In his mind, even children weren’t exempt from the harsh reality of the world.

They didn’t run as Zane approached them. Most of them seemed too terrified to move, but Noah almost seemed eager. His carefree smile alone was enough to irritate Zane more than the incident itself. The gloved hands in his pockets formed clenched fists, and shook feverishly the closer he got to the boy.

“Hey, mister, I said it was an accident. What are you gonna do? Hurt a kid because of some snow?” The gap-toothed grin became smaller when he noticed Zane’s brutal, unforgiving eyes. Although the collar of the jacket obscured most of his face, Zane’s eyes were enough to strike fear into the heart of the young boy. “Hey,” his voice cracked, “it was just a joke.”

Removing his right fist from his pocket and placing it by his side, Zane suddenly stopped yards away from Noah. Without hesitating to protect her brother, Hannah stood firmly between him and his assailer. Zane figured that she was trying to create a barrier between them when he noticed her fidgeting with her hands in front of her. Her blue eyes pleaded with Zane from beneath the brim of her pink cap.

“I-I’m sorry! My brother, he’s an idiot. Please don’t hurt him.” She bit her lower lip and turned to her brother behind her. “Noah, say you’re sorry right now!”

“Aw come on! I already did.”

Yanking his arm, she pulled the boy beside her. “Do it again. And you better mean it this time!”

“But-”

“But nothing,” she interrupted, turning her attention back to Zane. “Just say it alrea-” She stopped as soon as she saw that Zane was no longer there. All that remained were departing boot prints.

***

By the time Zane had arrived to his destination, the temperature had dropped another ten degrees due to the sun setting. Although the turtleneck-like collar of his jacket kept his breath subdued, little clouds of smoke would escape into the air every so often.

He lingered outside of the stone steps of the building, their surfaces lightly dusted with about a quarter of an inch of snow. Although it was freshly fallen, shoe prints of every size, and in almost every direction, dotted the white coating. Adding his own to the mix, Zane approached the entrance of Central Station.

A few Enforcers trotted down the stairs, and one nearly slipped on the thin layer of snow. Zane wasn’t surprised by the Enforcers going in and out of the building. After Tom threw out Caswell’s modified patrol schedule, Enforcers now claimed the streets of Nova City, not gangs. A few naïve people believed that the gangs had disappeared, but most of the citizens knew better than to give in to such a simple solution.

When entering the station, Zane tucked his gloves away and unzipped his collar for the first time that day. White flecks of melting ice littered his black hair, but he didn’t bother to brush them away. Instead he looked to the front desk, where a woman with cropped black hair greeted him with a wide smile.

“Hello Zane, back again this evening? How’s Betty doing by the way?”

Betty had gotten her hands into every cookie jar in Nova City, and Glenda, the Enforcer at the front desk, was no exception. Still, her many connections were actually of benefit to him. It was thanks to her that he was allowed to use the station’s normally restricted resources.

“Tom around?” he asked stiffly, peering around the room.

Although it was supposedly less crime-ridden, Central Station was packed with Enforcers. While some continued to enter and leave the building from behind him, some were reading files, making phone calls at their desks, or, most often, doing some sort of paperwork. The hallways off to the side were empty and Tom’s glass-paneled office had the blinds drawn.

He returned his gaze to Glenda, whose bright smile sharply contrasted her dark complexion. “Tom told me to tell you that he’s very sorry, but he’s attending to business on the far side of town.”

Zane wasn’t surprised that Tom had been expecting him. He’d been visiting the Station every day since Nova’s Nightmare, so it was routine. Although the Chief wasn’t there, Zane wasn’t about to let a day go to waste.

“And?” His tone regressed to the usual, agitated norm.

“And,” Glenda chimed, keeping a forced smile on her face, “you need to be… supervised.” She was almost afraid to say it. It seemed as though Zane’s volatile reputation preceded him, even to the Enforcers.

Jamming his fists further into his pocket, he persisted. “What about Captain Maddox? Or Hadley?”

“Sorry, they’re with him, too.”

Right at that moment, Hadley stormed into the station and right by Zane. Most of the other Enforcers noticed her obvious frustration when she stomped past them, but it wasn’t until she slammed the door of one of the interrogation rooms that they all realized she was upset. Shortly after, Captain Maddox came in, brushing the snow off the shoulders of his black coat.

“Chilly reception,” Glenda remarked to unamused company. When neither Zane nor Captain Maddox acknowledged her pun, she laughed nervously before settling deeper into her rolling polyester chair.

“Woo, it’s cold!” Tom exclaimed, bursting into the room. His navy pea coat almost looked like it was polka dotted thanks to the pattern of the snowfall.  “How are ya, Glenda?” he greeted, removing his black bowler’s cap.

The receptionist instantly livened up upon seeing the Chief. “Nice and warm over here.”

"Wish I could say the same,” he sighed. “Sorry about Hadley, she must’ve given you the cold shoulder.” Tom paused briefly, waiting for his pun to sink in. Sure enough, Glenda let out a guffaw, and Tom joined in. For an instant, Zane wondered if Tom knew about Betty leaving, but he didn’t care to ask.

With a shake of the head, Maddox removed his hat and coat, hanging them on the nearby coat rack. Before returning to his desk, he and Zane locked eyes for mere seconds, but neither spoke. While Nole had earned a good rapport with the Enforcers Unit, Zane was impartial to them at best. In fact, it was only because of Nole that Betty had built so many connections in the Unit.

Zane glared at Glenda until she stifled her laugh and cleared her throat. “Well sir, you came right on time. Zane here was looking for you.”

After throwing his coat and hat onto the wooden bench against the wall, Tom rubbed his ears with the palms of his gloved hands in an attempt to warm them. When he finally met Zane’s eyes, he acted shocked, even though his message to Glenda had revealed that he was expecting Zane all along.

“Hey!” he greeted enthusiastically. “I would ask what brings you in, but I have a feeling I already know.” Zane didn’t feel the need to respond, so instead, he waited for Tom to invite him into the hallway. “Listen Zane,” Tom said, suddenly serious. They moved from door to door until they got to one on the far end of the corridor. “It’s been months, you should let this go. It’s not healthy.” Even as he said it, Tom propped open the door to the filing room. Taking a step into the room, Zane was blocked by Tom’s hold on the handle of the door.

“Stay out of it,” he warned. Even though it was the Chief of Enforcers, Zane didn’t care.

On rare occasions, Tom abandoned his carefree attitude for a stern one. This was one of those occasions. ““Listen kid, the only reason I’m letting you do this is because Betty called in a huge favor. I’m talking massive.”

"She only excused your rent fees,” Zane retorted, equally as stern.

Tom sighed. “Surely you guys know they’re extinct, so why are you so interested in them?”

Zane fixed his eyes on the cardboard boxes beyond the small opening of the door. He lowered his head, clenching his jaw tightly. The fists in his coat pockets shook restlessly as his gray eyes squinted at Tom’s mud and snow encrusted boots. Despite his apparent rage, Tom wouldn’t leave Zane alone until he got a real answer.

Despite his agitation, Zane met Tom’s stark, unmoving blue eyes. “I’m looking for someone.” He hissed the words slowly, as if actually paining him.

Although it wasn’t much of an answer, it was enough for Tom. He let out a prolonged sigh and released his grip on the door. “Have at it then.”

Not bothering to say anything else, Zane brushed by Tom resentfully. The lights directly overhead tossed shadows underneath the stacks of boxes. It was apparent that no one had touched the files since they were created; no one except Zane. After the mass arrests made at the time, the Enforcers just lodged the information into random boxes.

The seventeen-year old inspected the cardboard stacks, partly to figure out where he left off, and partly to wait for Tom to leave. Sure enough, after nearly a minute of silently watching, the Chief reluctantly pulled at the door, still trying to observe Zane for as long as possible. As soon as Zane heard the click of the door, he pulled out the box labeled Quads 6.

Settling down alongside the container, he scanned the tabs of the manila folders. They all lined up on the left side of the box; all except one that was facing backwards, its tab on the right side. A dark silhouette hung over the file as he leaned closer to the pages. The first thing he noticed was the standard outline where the identifying photo should’ve been, and the word “deceased” stamped over it.

“Blue eyes, brown hair,” Zane read aloud. “Five feet, nine inches, one hundred and seventy pounds. His eyes darted across the page until one word cut him short. “Age, twenty-three.” He slammed the folder shut with both hands and returned it into the box, readjusting its position so that the tab lined up with the others.

He rummaged through the next few files, with one dead end after another. “They may be extinct, but I know you’re still out there,” he muttered, wrinkling the papers in his tight grip. “Cowards always find a direction to run in, right Dalton?”