Chaz:

He wasn’t going to make it. I had to go rescue my niece from a Nazi wannabe, I would have to hold eternal life in my hand for a nanosecond and then turn it over to some gutter punk sociopath. But right now my best friend was dying and I had to say good-bye. Even if he had betrayed me.

Pete would always be my best friend.

Long pauses divided each breath. It sounded like he had barbed wire tangled in his lungs and they were filling with blood, like his insides were being sliced up by a miniature army wielding tiny razor blades.

He coughed. Blood speckled his lips. One eye danced open.

I think he saw me, but I wasn’t sure.

“Pete, it’s Chaz.”

A whisper, hoarse and raw. “Where y’at, bruh.” A thin smile. His skin was too pale, the circles under his eyes even darker than usual. He looked at me, death clouding his gaze. “Hey, I wants…to keep it…all,” he said, each word wet and heavy like a shovelful of dirt on a grave. “Don’t erases nothin’.”

“I won’t.”

“And we never talks ’bout it, but yur gonna…”

I finished his sentence. “Be your ’sitter.” I forced a laugh. “You think I’d let anybody else mess with you? I’ll be right there, from Day One.”

He closed his eyes, still smiling. Pain twisted his grin, turned it into a grimace.

I should have let him go in peace, but I couldn’t.

“Pete, why didn’t you tell me? Did Neville threaten somebody in your family?”

His eyes opened halfway. “Yeah.” A look of torment flashed. “You.” He coughed. He was using his last bit of energy for this. “He was gonna…gives ya what he gave yur mom…he was gonna takes yur life away, bruh, and ya only gots the one, I couldn’t—”

I don’t know what I expected. Maybe that Pete had gone soft for his own kind, that he finally realized that the view from the gutter overshadowed anything else. But I know I didn’t expect this. That Pete had been standing in the gap for me, without my even knowing it.

“I’ll see you on the other side,” I said.

“Yeah.” His last grin. In this lifetime.

And then he jumped. My best friend died and within an hour he would be downloaded into a clone somewhere back at the factory. Already somebody was starting the process. I made a quick call, told them to let Pete keep everything, all his memories. Meanwhile, a Fresh Start attendant bustled into the room; he ran a few tests, then whisked the body away.

I stood up and straightened my shirt, glanced at the clock on the wall. Stopped in the bathroom to comb my hair. I had to look presentable.

We were going live in twenty minutes. On the ten-o’clock news.