Dunning was cold. It was always cold, but tonight the cold was biting. Rolling winds passed through the renovated city from the flat, overpopulated fields and past the concrete giants that had been built over the small houses that had once made up the town, howling as they went. Even with all of the technological advancements that had been made in the past nine decades; all of the hovering cars, automated drones and neon colored lights, it was still almost impossible to keep a cold wind from slipping into a jacket. 

From the twenty-five story rooftop where Sensha stood, those winds were even worse, and she shivered, hugging her upper torso’s ribs as she waited for the big moment. The moment to end it all. Tonight would be her last time working these crazy gigs. She could take her cash and go somewhere new, start something new. While normally that thought would have warmed her to her core, nothing she did managed to fend off the cold and she groaned in disapproval. She’d worn a solid jacket, a set of heavy-wolf furs, and had even gone out of her way to put on legwarmers, yet she was still cold. She was thinking happy thoughts and yet she was still cold. She could only hope that things would warm up when the action started. Looking over the roof, past the skylights, she surveyed her surroundings. 

Light flooded Dunning making it harder to see into the night than any amount of natural dark could. Multiple sky piercing buildings surrounded her in all directions, the streets below shimmering with car lights, street lights, and various store signs. The little specks that were the populace moved and bustled, going about whatever occupied their little lives below. The city was alive and huge, as all post-Ignition cities were. 

Every city was comprised of people scrambling for space and safety in numbers as giant, mutated monsters, super-human cyborgs, and suped up megalomaniacs threatened to kill, enslave, or make them homeless. Small towns like the pre-Ignition Dunning wouldn’t have lasted a day with the kind of creatures and fiends that plagued the surrounding wilds. Dunning, as it was, played host to twenty-one million sapient citizens, all packed together in a seven hundred square mile radius. To fit that many people together in such a small space with monsters roaming around the borders, picking off anything that wasn’t bigger and meaner than they were, you needed to build smart, build efficient, and build up. 

That’s what the people had done. Sensha was told that the post-Ignition rush to build new homes had been one of the few times in history that humanity had banded together, even when people started growing extra limbs and fur.  

The Ignition, a world changing event that had dragged magic into a world that had been without it, had brought about more than just spell casters and pretty new homes to live in. The event had begun an evolution of sapient life on the planet. Mana saturation had spurred on changes to mankind on a genetic level. Men and women began mutating, their bodies shifting to handle all of the foreign energy now housed in their cells. New species were born over the course of a decade. 

Magic had brought with it the existence of shifters, beastmen, devils, angels, dragons, and in Sensha’s unique case, centaurs. Each new race had quirks and diversity just as wide as the humans before them, and… oddly enough, humans themselves dwindled in number to an almost pitiable amount, nearly ten thousand in existence in PI 92, their numbers replaced as men and women transformed into new beings.

One such being was Sensha’s spotter for the night, a plucky little goblin named Phaz. He was short for human standards, standing at a solid 4’3”, but as a centaur he didn’t even really come all the way up to her underside. His wild, shoulder-length black hair flapped about in the wind around his several inch long, green ears. His face, while charming in a classical sense, was set in an annoyed scowl as he tried to squint to pick up on people across the street in the building where their target was set to show. 

“Any sign?” she asked, her tone hopeful as she glanced down at her weapon. Her gun was taller than the man, and that thought amused her to no end. It was a beautiful, heavy-duty piece, something she’d had made custom for her when she’d got into the business of enforcing for the Dunning Black Cats ten years ago. It looked like a mix between an anti-tank rifle and a glaive, mainly because it was. Old Man Grant, as she called it, was meant to operate on all parts of the battlefield so that she could move from range up close without having to overadjust. For any creature weaker than a minotaur, the weapon wouldn’t work, having to be propped on a bipod and abandoned up close because of its weight. For her, it could be fired on the move and pack enough punch to stop a charging plated juggernaut. 

“Not a damn one,” her watch companion spat, popping a box of cigarettes from his pocket along with a lighter. Sensha’s brow raised as he watched him take one from the box, place the cig to his lips, and drag as he lit it. With how expensive the little things were, it was a wonder he’d take one now, rather than saving it as a post job treat. She didn’t comment on it, though, her eyes moving back to the other building. 

The party for Ceidrik Valonov’s 112th birthday was an auspicious occasion. The entire roof and top floor of the neighboring building had been renovated to facilitate the wealthy man’s party, cinematic celebrities, high class women, and big underworld names all showing up to congratulate Valonov on his long life. The Valonov family was one of the few lines west of the North Atlantic to have surviving family past the Ignition. Something about their genetics had lent them to very long lives, their oldest known living relative being over 150.

Scanning the swathes of beastfolk, shifters, orcs and gobs at his party, Sensha didn’t see the man either, and huffed, rubbing her sides more insistently in the hopes of driving up her own body heat. Shifting from hoof to hoof, the centaur tried to get her thoughts together as she monitored the party. “He could be on time for his own damn party,” she grumbled, her body stiff from the long wait. “How are you not freezing, Phaz? You weigh like 75 soaking wet. I’m up here losing circulation.” 

“Well, for one thing, I have better circulation than your fat, horse ass. Don’t need 2 hearts to keep the blood moving,” he replied, smoke billowing from his maw in messy gouts as he spoke, only to be carried off on the wind. 

“Well fuck you for that too,” Sensha snarked, rolling her eyes. 

“Not kidding,” he chuckled with her for a moment, glancing her way, though he perked up a half-second later, and flicked the cig away. What a waste. “Enough bullshit. Get ready to move. Mark, dead ahead.” 

Sensha set to motion without pause, catching the urgency in his voice. Stooping to pick up Grant and sling his strap over her shoulder as she readied for the jump, she glanced across the gap between buildings to spy a long, serpentine man pulling himself out of a stairwell and onto the roof. Once the thick leather was rested securely around her for the leap, she reached out and took Phaz’s forearm in her hand, tossing him up onto her back as she turned and cantered to the other side of the roof they were on to prepare her running start. Once there, she shouldered the rifle, took aim at the opposing roof, and took a deep breath. This was the last moment of calm she’d likely have for days to come. 

“3 of 4, right?” she asked, more for the sake of calming her nerves than anything else as she felt tension welling in her chest. The cold air clung to her lungs and numbed her cheeks as she once again glanced out at the city. 

“Right. 4 of 4 is better. Take the head and we can hopefully get all 3 hearts while we’re up there,”” he barked as he clung to Sensha’s waist. Normally, she wouldn’t let anyone sit on her back like he was. But with what was about to happen, she made an exception. It wasn’t like he’d tell anyone anyway. 

Doing a quick roundabout, the tauress turned and set into a hard gallop, keeping the bayonet on the end of her rifle low as the edge of the roof closed in in an instant. The wind roared in her ears, setting her long, black tresses flying behind her as she forced her way forward. Large as she was, this was barely enough space to get the running start necessary for such a leap, but she did, raising the muzzle as her forehooves hit the edge and pushed off. She raised the muzzle, her eyes locking in on the head of the 30 foot long serpentine birthday boy as he wrapped his hands around the much smaller hand of a cute little blonde shifter with curly locks. His smile was practiced, charming, joyful. 

Her hind hooves hit the ledge and Sensha launched herself into the air, the world around her seeming to slow down  as she raised the rifle to properly aim as she flew. “Happy Birthday…” she mumbled, the ironic well-wish floating away on the wind before it was completely drowned by the bark of an armor piercing round passing from the muzzle and completely vaporizing Ceidrik’s head. 

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People didn’t even have time to start screaming as Sensha cleared the forty foot gap between roofs, landing hard enough to crack the concrete and continuing her gallop. Only when she’d trampled and ran through over half of the party, doubtlessly injuring countless innocents, did she hear the uproar really start, people screaming and beginning to dive out of the way. The young blond who had been holding hands with Valonov was in shock, too much so to even fully parse that the man she’d been talking to was dead. She was lucky one of the other guests had dragged her out of the way by the time Sensha got to the corpse.

As she observed, she saw that the neck was already pulsing, trying to regenerate the head that the man had just lost. Rather than deal with that, she ran his humanoid torso through with the first three feet of her bayonet, piercing his heart easily with Old Man Grant.  From her back, the much yappier bark of Phaz’s  pistol rang out, followed by even more screams as the man on her bayonet twitched and began to writhe. From his open throat, a wet gurgle came as the creature attempted to continue living, even without its head and one of its hearts impaled, the other two run through with pistol rounds.

From further down in the building shouts and alarms had already begun, loud enough to be heard past the bouncing dance music below. She saw people starting to rush up the stairs the birthday boy had originally come from. Rather than deal with a slew of guards trying to surround them, Sensha exerted some of her considerable strength to lift the corpse on the end of her weapon, holding the body aloft as a shield as she charged the stairwell. 

“Sen, what the fuck are you-” the gob hissed as he let off another few rounds across the body of the snake man. He was cut off by the roar of gunfire from below them dozens of bullets raining into Ceidrik’s still living body, some punching through. Luckily the sudden flare of pain in Sensha’s side was merely a graze.

She charged to the top of the stairs with the body in tow, pushing until she felt the resistance of someone behind him pushing back at her, and saw a muzzle beginning to round the body. Then she fired again. There was no space  to dodge, no warning for the guards trying to climb the stairs. The bullet passed right through Ceidrick, exploding his torso as it passed and shredding a uniform red hole through each of the numerous guards trying to make it up the stairs, felling each of them and causing those at the bottom to scream and disperse. 

Fairly certain not even a Valonov could regenerate from that much bodily damage, Sensha charged down the stairs, into the party, much to the protestation of her passenger. She growled in displeasure as she found some of the guards had managed to avoid getting blasted in her second shot. As her hooves smashed the tiles on the stairs, she charged into the floor, thankful the building was the standard 15’ story, rather than the old-school 10’ which would have made it impossible to maneuver. Instead of shooting again and blasting large holes into the party, she managed the bayonet on the end of Grant, leveraging the dangerous polearm into a wide swing and bisecting two of the nearby men as she hit the landing. 

She was thankful to hear another series of frantic shots from Phaz’s pistol as she charged the floor to make her second roundabout and get out of the building. She was confident that the cover fire had kept any number of holes from being put into her hide as she’d trampled tables full of refreshments and unsuspecting party goers. Yet all too soon she was charging back through the place toward the large, reinforced windows, her weapon leveled at the glass. Reinforced as it was, it was still no match for a weapon of Grant’s caliber, and with a bark and a deafening crash, it shattered, leaving enough space for Sensha to leap from the gaping window and into the night, over to the next roof. 

As her hooves slammed onto the concrete, jarring her bones with the massive impact, the centaur didn’t stop, didn’t look back, didn’t even slow. The chase was on. The main objective had been accomplished, the job was not over. Not until the escape. 

–

The elevator down to the main floor of the building Sensha had landed on played slow, smooth music that made the woman picture someone in a large armchair sliding down until their back was on the seat. It was a silly image that made her smirk. She also found herself pleased that the sting has indeed warmed her up, all of the running and shooting having really gotten her blood pumping. She certainly wasn’t hot but she no longer felt like she’d catch a case of the shivvers.

Beside her, Phaz eyed the numbers on the pad as they slowly went down. 

15…

14…

"Nice shooting back there," Sensha volunteered, checking her light flesh wound on her side from where she'd been shot on the roof.  The bleeding looked far worse than it was, warm sticky scarlet mixed with the furs she wore. Having been shot before, she could tell without a serious check that this was a mere annoyance. Something to be ignored… another damned scar. 

"You too. It's always a treat to watch you pop a melon," he chuckled, looking away from the panel and up at her. His eyes lingered for a while before he spoke again. "Gonna either be clear out there, or a bitch and a half," he said, stating the obvious. He looked into her chocolate brown eyes, seemingly searching for something. 

"Either way the drop points the same," she said, shrugging.  "Gotta hit those gates and slide on past. Once we hit the tree line, I've got us to the safe spot."

Whatever he heard in her voice or her declaration seemed to be what he was looking for.  Ejecting his mag and slapping it into his back pocket,he racked the slide to eject the chamber round and caught it in a smooth motion before slapping in one of 3 fresh magazines he had left. Finishing a quick barrel check and the like, he racked his slide again and nodded to himself. His check prompted Sensha to look at her own packs. Her saddle bags were stuffed for travel, road rations, water, and several spare mags settled to her back and rear thighs. It was enough supplies to make it to the next city over and then some.

7…

Sounds outside of the elevator were muted, the music and shelling of the lift making it feel like the pair were locked into their own little world. In the moments before those two double doors opened, time seemed to slow, to drag on from seconds into hours. Sensha took a deep breath, her hairs standing as she felt the momentum building, pushing at the gates. Something was going to happen. She just… knew it.

2…

“Hop on! We’re making a break!” she decided, the tension ready to burst. She didn’t know how she knew, but she did. Something was wrong. She reached out to Phaz, who nodded and took her hand. Well… she took his arm, but that’s semantics. She yanked him onto her back as they heard the ding. 

—

Her intuition… had been wrong. There was no one waiting for them in the foyer. She charged out of the building, ready to take and return fire, only to find no one prepared for them in the street. However, her erratic, explosive movements drew attention. From across the street, a group of goons in suits spotted her, and began shouting.

“That’s them!” 

“It’s the fucking horse!”

The centaur and the goblin shared a look, knowing that their play had just caused them a lot more trouble than playing it cool might have. “Shiiiit,” they both groaned before Sensha turned, kicking into a full gallop down the main street. 

“I’m never trusting your stupid horse intuition again!” Phaz shouted at her as the wind whistled past his ears, the squeal of tires distant for the moment. The two knew better than to think motor vehicles wouldn’t catch up to them in time. 

“Less talk! More useful plan!” she shouted back at him. 

—

The clack of Sensha’s hooves on tattered, shamble pavement that was old route 91 was the only sound to be heard as  she continued her run to the drop-off point. Escaping the detail of hired goons that had chased them out of the city had been a near thing, and the centaur and her spotter both sported fresh wounds from the chase. Even with their back-up ambush in the city Sensha had barely escaped city limits with her life. Now the pair were 4 miles out from the walls, trotting to the safe spot.

Phaz still clung to her, his breaths just as ragged as hers even though he hadn’t done even a fraction of the running. Near death experiences had that effect on men and women. The two hadn’t spoken since they left the gates either, just trying to keep themselves breathing. When Sensha saw the spot where she’d be parting ways with Phaz, though, she did speak. 

“Okay, Here’s your stop, bud. We’ve got a guy on his way out here to pick you up. Then you’re back to dunning with new duds,” Sensha said between her ragged pants.

“Me? Where the fuck  else are you going?” the goblin asked, looking her over as he pulled away from her, her back still warm where his chest and face had been pressed the whole time. 

“Dunno. Anywhere’s better than here,” she said, sighing as she slowed from her trot to a light canter, making her way to the drop. “And unlike you, my diminutive friend, I’m not good at keeping a low profile. Not a lot of centaurs in Dunning, best I find somewhere else.”

“And… you were gonna tell me this, when?” he asked, his voice dangerously low.

“Uh… now?” Sensha said as she slowed further, only to receive a brisk smack to the back of her head. “Ouch”

“You fucking dunce! Did you think I wouldn’t want to know?!”

“I figured you wouldn’t care much! Fuck!” she said turning and holding a hand to keep her head safe as the irate gob smacked her on the back again. “Not like we’ve ever been all buddy buddy!”

“That’s not an excuse you damn dumb fucking horse!” he shouted, assailing her with a flurry of tiny green fisted blows. “We’ve been working together for over 3 fucking years, you’d think I’d get a two week fucking notice that you were quitting!”

Sensha turned, trying to get the angry little man off of her at this point. “Ouch! Ow! I’m sorry! Sorry! Sheesh” she  cried trying to pacify the spotter until finally he hopped off of her, obviously still angry.

“Shit, man. I didn’t want to piss you off. I just wanted to leave quiet,” she said, looking down at her former partner in crime. “I’m sorry. Genuinely, Phaz. I’m sorry. I didn’t really think it would mean much to you. We barely talk. While we worked together, you were my best partner. No one came close. I couldn’t have gotten here without you. But… I’m out. I don’t want this any more. I want a house… a girlfriend, some fucking security. I’m tired of chasing down screaming asshats and blowing holes in them. I’m tired of running from armored vehicles and pulling off near-death escapes. I want things to be quiet.”

The goblin paused at that. He still seemed angry, still seemed way more hurt than she’d ever expected him to be. But he also seemed like he’d heard her.

Sensha stepped forward, her smile hopeful and pleading. She just needed him to understand, knew it would all be okay if she could just get through. One more push to just get through… 

It must have been a result of her own exceptional weight, but she heard something groan beneath them as she shifted her weight. She looked down, and that action alone probably saved her life. The whiz of a bullet passing over just where her head had been made her quick to move. Unfortunately the ground began to give away. Phaz, reached out, his arm outstretched as he tried to help her. Then his torso vaporized. Pain bloomed in Sensha’s right foreleg, and then the ground beneath her exploded and collapsed. The last thing she saw as she tumbled into the dark below was the arms of her dead spotter, tumbling and twisting through the air above her.