Mary pivoted on a heel and started unloading her rifle at the beast—
CRAAAACK.
Unfortunately, just as the ceiling collapsed a few feet behind her, separating her from both Stiletto and her escape. Her mind didn't parse this for a few seconds until she nearly tripped over the debris behind her in her attempts to slowly backpedal.
“...Ah, crap.”
She kept the trigger squeezed firm, going from well-practiced and aimed bursts to a crazed spray of lead. She hoped to gain some ground on the creature so she could at least bolt past it, or do something other than hitting it head on. Only a few seconds to think it through; her heads-up display notified her that her mag was about to completely bottom out. Thirty. Twenty two. Sixteen—
The beast hurdled forwards through the muzzle flare, its faceplate visibly concaved inwards at this point. Mary narrowly weaved to one side, barely able to duck out of the way with only a scant foot between her and the creature that wanted nothing more than to murder everything in its field of view. The bad news was that it caught her RPM in its maw, managing to wrench the thing away from her.
“Shit, shit, shit—”
The good news: the thing bought her a precious second, gnawing on her gun ineffectually. With no other real options, she decided on the dumbest possible course of action. She balled up her fists and dropped a punishing elbow straight down onto the metal-plated skull of the monster.
CLUNK.
The ring of metal hitting metal rang out through the dilapidated tunnel. Her short term plan worked, and the thing seemed to be concussed for the time—
CLUNK.
Her fist came down on its skull this time. She didn’t even stop to inspect the damage.
CLUNK.
And again. The force behind her cyberarms crashing into its cyberskull left it even more visibly bent and deformed; the edges of its faceplate curling upwards from the impact. The only thing that gave her pause was the fact that it was still moving. At the very least, it gave her hope that she could clobber this thing to death.
The beast suddenly lunged at her in her moment of hesitation, slamming her hard against the wall with the broadside of its skull. The amount of force behind the hit was enough to leave a Mary-shaped indentation in the stonework behind her.
“You little bastard.”
The hit must’ve knocked a cog or two loose in her skull, because her timid facade faded away. She raised her fist a third time.
CLUNK.
“You.” CLUNK. “Little.” CLUNK. “Bastard.”
Her cyberfists bared down on the poor beast's skull in a blurred frenzy of a flurry. She gripped at the loose faceplate and ripped it away with an effortless flick of the wrist. Chunks of viscera and gore follow along, as the few organic bits in the beast’s skull trail along with the non-organic parts that were torn away as easily as tin foil.
It wasn’t moving any more, but Mary wasn’t done. She was definitely pissed at this point over a minor transgression. Her cyberfists continued to pound away at the creature’s skull. The metallic clunking soon gave way to dull wet thumps as her fists—and still rising agitation—transformed a mutated rodent’s skull into something that could only vaguely be described as a skull.
----------------------------------------
Stiletto hurried through the tunnels, which weren’t quite as straightforward to navigate as one would’ve hoped. Each route seemed to turn off into another direction instead of looping back towards the sound of incessant gunfire. The bright side being, at least she could figure out if she was getting closer or further by the volume of—
She slowed down for a split second as the gunfire died down. That was not a good sign at all.
CLUNK.
Still not a good sign, but it gave her a good indicator of where she was headed. She kept her hurried pace forwards, looking for anywhere that would get her where she needs to be. That metallic clunking sped up and grew in intensity as she hit a bend that finally took her in the direction of that sound.
Keep pace. She might need help. Can’t slow down now.
“Mary?”
“Oh, uh. Hey, Stiletto.”
The first sight that greeted Stiletto as she rounded the corner would more than likely make the average person hurl the contents of their stomach out. The walls were painted red with rat guts, with Mary finally standing upright to regard Stiletto after spending the last near half minute of playing a drum solo with the beast’s remains.
“I, uh, killed it. I think,” she stammered out, in her usual tone; one ill-befitting for someone who looked like they just rolled on the floor at the butcher’s shop.
“Yeah, I think you did!” Stiletto traipsed through rat guts and skull chunks. “I also took care of mine. I'm not sure if there are more, but two of these is more than enough for me.”
“... I think that might’ve been the problem, really. Judging from how messed up the junction box was, it was probably the big guys.” Mary took a deep breath and reached up to rub her nose, stopping short of rubbing rat guts all over it. “But, uhm, yes. We should probably get out of here before we have to deal with anything else. You remember the way we came from, right?”
The cyborg turned on a heel, retrieving her partially chewed upon RPM. It’s a little worse than wear, but still functional. Probably.
Stiletto's ears pricked up and she swung her head in the direction of the intersection she passed. “Wait here, I just heard something.”
“Heard wh—” Mary sighed after cutting herself short. Stiletto was off to the races and there was no stopping her.
----------------------------------------
She definitely heard that. Gunfire reverberated off of the walls. It wasn’t that far, but it was far enough that it was faint. Stiletto kept her movement to her usual jovial bounds, supposing that this was a little less urgent than trying to make sure Mary didn’t die.
This was more a matter of curiosity than anything. After all, a scavver or someone could’ve simply found their way into the sewers and was dealing with their own rat problem. More gunfire. This time, it sounded automatic. Closer. And there was definitely a lot more than one gun involved.
The chances of it being scavvers are pretty low. Curiosity was hitting hard. She followed the sounds. Now, she could smell something different over the sewage. It smelt worse than the sewage. It was off and didn’t belong.
More gunfire, several guns layered over each other. It was close enough to be deafening.
“Blue Element reporting, we’ve neutralized one of the subjects. Status? Over,” a voice spoke out from just around the corner.
Stiletto’s pace slowed to a near halt, as she decided now was not the time to get shot up by corpos. What the hell were they doing down here? She took a quick peek around the corner. Maybe getting shot at a little was worth it, just to see what was going on.
Yep. Definitely CorpSec. A full team of them, all clad in their stereotypical black tactical armor. Standard loadout with a spread of SMGs and ARs, all with flashlights clipped to them. No identifying markers otherwise, though. Looked like there's one of those monstrosities of a mutant rat behind them, riddled with enough bullets to make Mary jealous.
“Red Element. Still looking for the other two. Over,” another voice crackled out. Stiletto’s ears twitched. They’re using old style walkie-talkies. Why? She didn’t have much time to ponder over this, considering their flashlights soon danced along the walls and in her direction. Curiosity wasn’t going to kill the bat, and she decided the best course of action was to fetch Mary and get the hell out of here. And probably tell her what the hell happened on the way.
----------------------------------------
Stiletto clambered up the manhole, her Kreuzzügler II back inside its holster now. She turned around to see if Mary needed help with climbing up.
“—Uuh. You're okay, right? Nothing happened to you, right? No bites or anything?” Mary rapid-fired before she even crested the lip of the manhole.
“Yeah! I'm okay, not a scratch on me.” She looked down to see the splatters of blood on the front of her waders, quickly adding, “the blood isn't mine. What about you?”
Mary finally took Stiletto's hand to try and assist herself up and out of the manhole. All 100 kilos of her mechanical ass. Thankfully she's still mostly climbing out of her own accord. “Uuh. You did most of the work, I think. So I'm pretty much okay.”
“No such thing. We both worked hard!” Stiletto took off her armored jacket after Mary joined her on being fully topside once more, fanning herself with a hand. “Wouldn't say no to a shower right about now, though.”
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
Mary turned around and looked down the hole. “Should probably close that and lock it before those, uh… Yeah.” She gestured back down to the cover, fidgeting with her waders. “Pretty sure you did all the work. I think.”
Stiletto knelt to slide the manhole cover back in place, latching the padlock on and closing it with a click. She deftly jumped out of her waders and let it crumple to the floor.
“We both worked hard,” she repeated, wiping down her legs as she looked around for her folded up romper.
“—I'll make sure that I tell Switch that you worked hard.” Mary laughed, brushing her own hair back and mixing in sewer muck in the process. “Should we tell Eddie? Then we can get out of his hair. And, like, shower.”
“I'll tell her you worked hard too! And yeah, we should.”
She's still looking around for her romper.
“—Don't tell her that I worked hard. I'm still, like, plenty sure you did all the work,” she gabbered on, glancing around the room as she tried to figure out what Stiletto is looking for.
“Okay, let's just say we both worked equally. You killed one of the big ones by yourself. I killed one by myself. Equal, right?”
She only managed to find her heavy boots.
“Uh, let's talk to Eddie. Think I misplaced my clothes but I don't want to turn this room upside down to find it without his permission.”
She threw on her letterman jacket and slipped into her boots, looking a bit ridiculous with nothing but her underwear underneath.
“Wait. Wait. You're going out like that—” Mary paused to hold out a hand as if to stop her. “You could just raise your voice and, like, tell him that you lost your clothes and you want to, like, look for them.”
“Oh. That's smart.” Stiletto raised her voice. “Hey Eddie, the sewers are clear! ALSO I LOST MY CLOTHES!”
“—WHAT,” the ork shouted back, sounding mildly shaken for whatever reason. “—How did you lose your friggin' clothes? I haven't even been back there since ya went down!”
“I DON'T KNO—” She spotted her romper peeking out from behind the box she left it on. “False alarm, it just slid behind a box. WE'RE GOOD.” She quickly underwent the dance of taking everything off to slip into her romper before throwing everything back on again. “We're good,” she repeated in a much softer voice.
Mary, of course, averted her eyes.
“Some prick showed up to drop off a business card for you two, by the way.” Eddie called back out from the other room, before audibly swigging back a bottle of liquor. “Prick inna suit and tie.”
Stiletto's bat ears twitched at that, bolting to the other room where Eddie was. “Yeah? What did he look like?”
Eddie froze at the figuratively flying woman, flinching back as he registered what was happening.
“—I told you. Prick in a suit and tie. Human dude with brown hair. I don't know.” He tilted the drink back, sighing. “He had a buncha Sec with him saying to pass it on to whoever I had clearing the sewers out. Guess he saw my posting and headed over.”
“So plain looking, huh? There were a few bigger than normal rats.” She looked at Eddie, head cocked to one side. “You probably don't care about the details. Path should be clear to do your repairs when you do it.”
“Yeah. I'll head down pronto after you two scatter,” Eddie said as he held out a business card, printed on stock paper. It doesn't have an address, just a contact code.
JOEY JOHNSON
BUSINESS ASSOCIATE
AT LAW
“—Yeah, don't ask me. It doesn't make any sense,” he mumbled, setting the bottle of whiskey on the floor. “And, the coordinates to the safehouse.”
Both Stiletto’s and Mary’s commlinks chimed loudly.
Stiletto shrieked. With laughter. “Thanks, Eddie! We'll take care of any future rat problems. We'll scatter right now.”
She didn't budge from where she stood, and instead took another look at a random pin-up pinned up on Eddie's wall.
Eddie stared at Stiletto, as if he was waiting for her to leave.
Mary also finally made her way out of the backroom, free of the waders and back in her regular clothes. She beelined for the door, offering up a tiny wave. “—Er. Bye! Thanks for having us!”
“Bye!” Stiletto pulled the door open and stepped outside, back into the racket of the Night Market.
“—Don't tell me you offered to help him with that again,” Mary blurted out, stepping into both the figurative rain of sound and the literal rain that drizzled on them.
“Was reflex.”
Thankfully, the rain helped somewhat in washing the sewer stench off of both girls.
“How is it—Okay. Okay. I totally get it. I probably do the same thing. Sometimes.” Mary sighed upwards at the rain, shaking her head. “Uuh, back to the bikes, then? 'Cause I'm not messing with that business card until I get clean.”
“Yep! Back to the bikes. Meet up at the clubhouse, or are you going to have some… alone time with Hotrod?”
“Back to the—Wait. What?” Mary stared. Vacantly. “I smell like sewage. Why would she want… er, you're implying what I think you're implying, right?”
“Well, yeah. I'm also assuming you'd shower first. So, clubhouse?”
“Of course. That's—Yeah. I was going to… shower. Yes.” She stumbled over her words as she realized what was being said, eliciting her to double time her pace a little.
“Okay, I'm sorry. I'll stop teasing you about Hotrod.”
“Oh, uh, it's okay.” Mary jumped at the chance to switch tack. “What are you doing besides showering when you get back to the clubhouse?”
“I'm probably just going to hang upside down in the rafters and continue reading my novel, unless you wanna hang out and talk.” Stiletto straddled her Hozumi Cyclone, the bike roaring to life via NeuroLine command as soon as her butt touched the seat.
“Uh, okay.” She offered up a timid nod, hopping onto her Nodachi and being slightly less prompt in starting it. When she did, it responded with a low rumbling growl. “I can totally, uh, talk. I'm good at talking. Sometimes.”
She immediately returns to stumbling over her words even more severely now that she’s out of her element and in a social situation.
“Sorted!” Stiletto clapped her hands together and grabbed hold of the handlebars. “Also I don't know if you know, but the clubhouse showers are communal. Race you there?”
“Sure. I—You'll probably win. My bike totally isn't that fast. It's kinda stock,” she mumbled out, sounding far more embarrassed about this instead of the things she should be embarrassed about.
“Shouldn't be tough to mod it out. Hotrod or Blackjack can probably help you plan out the mods and shopping list. And any of us can take you to Union Garage for the actual work. Unless, you know, you're one of those hands on types that wants to do her own modding.” She revved her Cyclone a couple of times. “We go on 'go!' Three, two, one... GO!”
And she zipped away, turning into a black white-streaked blur as she sped in the direction of the clubhouse.
“I'm kind of bro—” was all she got out before she realized that Stiletto began counting down. And, she managed failing to go on the mark of ‘go.’
She still managed to peel out and zip after Stiletto, though! Albeit, barely keeping pace, considering the Nodachi was much more of a meandering brick compared to the nimble speedster of the Cyclone.
----------------------------------------
Gravel crunched under her tire as Stiletto rolled her bike to a stop in front of the clubhouse, parking next to a near identical Cyclone. She stayed perched on her bike, waiting for Mary to arrive as well.
Mary slowly, but surely, got there; engine gently thrumming as she decided to take the last bit of the race a tad too slowly. Apparently she’s not too confident about the quality of the road, despite it probably being perfectly safe.
She slowly cruised it in, coming to a halt beside Stiletto. “—Totally sorry about that. Still, uh, pretty bad with the bike.”
“Don't worry about it. The more you ride the better you'll get.” She hopped off her bike and practically skipped up the front door before loudly pounding on it with her fist. “HEY, WE'RE BACK.”
“I've been riding a lot, tho—” She stopped herself short again as Stiletto yelled, dismounting from the bike instead of talking.
The door's unbolting and swinging open was unusually fast compared to usual, Onigiri apparently deciding to be on the ball for once. She still looked less than pleased to be on door duty.
“Hey hey, Oni. Job's done and we both smell like raw and fermented sewage.” Stiletto pushed past the entrance, managing to haphazardly discard an article of clothing with each step. “—Are the showers empty?”
Onigiri unashamedly stared at Stiletto, some H-rated doujin still in hand. She didn't seem to be all that aware about the sewage smell until it was processed in her little technomancer noggin that the words ‘raw and fermented sewage’ were just uttered, which elicited a—
“Oh my GOD,” she practically yelled, giving the doorway clearance to the point where she might as well have been in another building. “Does it really matter? Go. Go. Get. Move before you stink up the floor. Auuuuuugh.”
Stiletto rushed to the showers, all the while giggling like a maniac at Onigiri's reaction. Mary quietly followed after Stiletto and decided that stripping down in the middle of the hallway wasn't her style, waiting until she got to the showers first.
The shower area was fairly spartan, set up like the showers of a gymnasium, with six shower heads on one side and another six across it. The controls were all manual, a carryover from before the go-gangers reclaimed this building. The only touch of modernity was the digital shampoo and soap dispensers mounted on the wall, offering a respectable selection of scents.
No one was currently inside it.
Stiletto took one of the farthest away ones, the controls turning with a metallic squeak. Hot water soon poured down and washed over her.
Mary was a lot more quiet and pensive over the entire ordeal. She's the kind of person who would wait until the showers were clear before she'd actually use them, which showed through pretty hard; she waited until she's practically under the showerhead before she disrobed. At least she had enough sense to hurl her clothing far enough away so that they didn't end up getting drenched in water.
And then she realized she's going to have to adjust her 'ware to get the smell out.
“So, uh. I was totally going to ask something but I forgot. We were totally supposed to talk. About something,” she blurted out as she turned the faucet handle, clumsily trying to palm water onto her chrome legs.
“Were we supposed to talk about something? I forgot too. But okay, so, let me tell you about this novel I'm reading...”
And so the girls chattered the night away, mostly Stiletto talking Mary's ear off about whatever came to her mind, be it questionable novellas or even more questionable music. While their sewer adventure didn't leave them any worse for wear, their actions tonight further cemented the Screaming Banshees' influence in the area. Time will tell how they decide to utilize their payment: coordinates to a Krieger resupplying safehouse in the Slag.
The night favors the reckless.