Up on the walkway, Rubio and Jenn stood along the rail, chatting like old buddies, which I’d been sure they weren’t. Maybe a show of unity in honor of Rivera? The yellowish dusk polished Jenn’s hair to a cap of gold, bright against Rubio’s darkness. Hot as an oven out there, but he was bundled up and shivering. No question his malaria was acting up again.

“S’up, dudes?” I called.

They looked up and waved but put their chat away. I didn’t take it personally. Likely just gossip, which they both loved, even though Rube’d tell you not to listen to such crap.

As I came up, he drawled, “That a shit-eating grin or a grimace of pain?”

“Shock of the draw.”

“Why?” Jenn looked worried. “Where’d you get?”

“Madison and 60th.” I did a little goal dance. “Best post ever?”

“All right!” We thumb-bumped.

I leaned against the railing. Maybe their chat been . . . well, personal? So great if Jenn would be Rube’s girlfriend! But their views of the future were polar opposites: she so desperate to leave the Island, he eager to make a better life right here. That alone would keep them apart. “I’ve never done the East Side.”

“Not all that different.” Rubio waved an arm uptown like he could see it all. “Still got to climb a shitload of stairs. And there’s more chance of running into surprise residents.”

“Of a classier sort,” Jenn put in.

“A classier mugger?”

“No, really!” Jenn was happy for me. “No shaky walkways, more dry land, less flood damage, even the occasional police patrol.”

I frowned. “And that’s a good thing?”

“Sure. They keep the rogue factor down. Don’t worry. They’re easy enough to avoid. Meanwhile, if you find a stash, the goods are high-quality.”

“A big if, since it’s also the most picked-over sector.” Rubio’s gaze was drawn aside as a chorus of shouts rose from below. A burst of torchlight on water, cascading rings of reflection. “Well, look at that.”

The canoe crews were launched and circling the Lagoon. Rubio lifted his hands to start up mocking applause.

I yanked them down. “Are you insane?”

In the flaring light, I’d seen faces who’d been pounding on us in the Mess.

He sighed. “Might just be.”

I peered across the oily water. “Are they really going on a raid?”

“Maybe just a drill,” said Jenn.

“Who will they go after?”

Rubio yawned hugely. “Who’s on the hate list this week?”

“We don’t hate anyone,” Jenn returned.

“Speak for yourself.” The bow flares threw Rube’s thin face into harsh relief.

So right, I thought. They’ll think of someone.