The Hart hostile looked dead immediately from what I could see as I quickly stepped past him as he slumped down. From the hole near his neck I think I got the bottom of his brain near the spine. The hole was just gushing with blood and Hart was twitching a little. A quick death at least, lucky the bullet made it through the bone there.

Stepping into the bright doorway my view resolved into an empty room with a pump station in the corner and a bunch of sleeping bags spread around with empty wrappers and bottles and drug cases and so on spread around. The guy on the floor was still alive, laying on his side and groaning as he reached for a cut-down shotgun of some kind near one of the sleeping bags close to him.

I aimed at his head and fired, wincing as the bullet managed to shatter the top of his head open to cover the little area above him with brain and blood. I’d almost aimed too high, if he’d managed to swing the gun around quick enough after I missed it would have been all over.

Well, I was a known hostile among them now. Time to get the package and get the hell out of here. My arm still hurt a little from earlier and trying to keep the recoil of the pistol under control wasn’t doing it any favors.

I quickly scooped up the shotgun and hung it from my storage rig, I didn’t have a mount on it or anything so I just looped the buckle around it and jammed the end mostly in the bag attached under my arm. A scan around the little room didn’t show any other guns though, just a wrapped pipe and a handmade machete that didn’t even have a curve. Nothing worth weighing me down.

Turning and scanning the way I’d come I moved around to the next room fully expecting more hostiles.

Fortunately this room was just filled with trash, complete piles of the stuff. From old clothes to wrappers by the dozen to cans and drug pieces galore all swept into piles or thrown into cheap metal crates.

There was even a few broken tools and a half deconstructed and bent rifle of some kind thrown into a crate. I pondered grabbing it as a trophy for Noe but I decided to move on quickly.

I head across to the opposite doorway and checked through, the lighting of the sleeping room was holding out in these new rooms so I could see clearly. There wasn’t anyone in the last room in the line and I didn’t need to head in there, it mostly being filled with big pumping machines that made a lot of noise. I headed across to the right hand room from the one I came in from instead and checked inside.

As I poked my head in I saw a ganger slowly walking into the room with a pistol drawn from the tunnel doorway to the left. The package was just beyond where he had walked from, a little further along and then fixed to the back of one of the pipes on the right.

The ganger was turning to my doorway when I pulled back into my room, he didn’t see me so I still had the element of surprise. The problem was now he was approaching I couldn’t move on the creaky grated flooring without him knowing immediately.

I quickly and ever so carefully placed my right foot back and got into a ready shooting stance. I aimed where I thought he’d appear as soon as he got into line of sight and waited the breath it took for him to get across the room.

That breath must have been the longest one I’ve had in a while but as soon as I saw the edges of his profile move into sight I gripped the pistol hard. Then as he got his torso and head into sight he noticed me standing there, just in time to widen his eyes and clench his own pistol in his hands before I’d fired three shots into him.

The booms rattled around and the echoes weren’t far behind, but before the echoes arrived the ganger was hitting the grating hard. He’d taken two in the chest and another in the neck as I lost a bit of control over the kick of the gun.

The gun was still in his hand, so I put another bullet into his torso. I thanked Noe for the lack of the gun smoke filling the area after these few shots. The guy was hanging onto his last few breathes but his gun was at least loose in his hand now.

I walked over and kicked his arm, the gun slid free and rattled across the grating. I then stepped back and aimed at where he had walked in from and waited. I didn’t hear any subtle metal creaks to announce his chooms coming to back him up.

Grabbing his pistol and just throwing it into my jacket’s inner pocket I stepped up to the walkway door and pulled my NV scope out. Well, Noe’s NV scope.

The thin walkway tunnel was clear as far as I could see with the scope, using it from a lit area made the dark a little bit more a mess to work out but there was nothing out there to see.

I started my way through it looking for a tiny triangle carved onto the top of one of the smaller pipes on the left, should be about knee height, or maybe hip height for me. That would be the area to look for the package.

As I moved through the darkness I kept my ears as open as I could get them, trying to hear every speck of noise. Was I being followed? Was there enemies ahead? Was there a trip wire my foot was stretching out as I walked?

Using the scope while walking wasn’t optimal and left my a little exposed but I didn’t want to search for the drop marking with my little flashlight. That’d just be asking to be lit up with gunfire from the distant darkness. I’d be dead before I even knew what was happening.

Suddenly a tiny little triangle carved into a pipe appeared. Finally I’d found the thing, the details had said “Near the doorway” so what the hell was this thing doing this far away from the doorway. Did we change what near means?

I quickly swung around to the right side of the hallway, put away the scope and ran my now free hand around the backs of the pipes nearby there. It took a few seconds because there were like forty of the damned things but I soon found the tiny box.

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I pulled it off the pipe with a bit of effort, checked for damage with my hand. Seemed fine and whole. I then pocketed the thing in the bag that the shotgun wasn’t hanging from and zipped it closed.

Secure as I could make it right now.

Part one of the job complete and I’d only nearly been shot twice and had to kill four people so far. Marchand is insane. Dead drop courier. Yeah, just a damn delivery mission here Marchand.

I pulled up my route and checked it. If I wanted to get out the quickest way I’d want to head back through the hopefully still cleared out junction, back where I’d come from for one crossroad and turn left there and just head straight for six crossroads, then a quick detour around a big sewage container thing, just a big circle on the map, so that’s a right and a left and a left and a right then back to straight.

This maze must have killed some people at some point, wandering around in the dark for days until they pass out from thirst without light to see by the whole time. Horrible way to go.

Placing my hand onto the railing and my gun held low but ready I gave up stealth to move quickly along the walkway. The steady clatter of my feet hitting the walkway was loud but I didn’t care now.

They knew I was here, it was time to leave.

I soon reached the junction again, I raised my gun in both hands and moved into the room, the dying hostile guy I’d taken the pistol from was now a dead hostile guy. Nothing else worth the time to loot on him even if he had an actual military rigging vest on, I could get it from elsewhere.

The next room was carbofries guy with his head opened up, still dead. Moving past him and into the vending machine room with Hart still there slumped against the vending machine. The blood had stopped flowing at least.

I quickly lined myself up with the doorway for my route and pulled out the scope with my pistol raised. No hostiles in visible range. Good.

Pocketing the scope I lowered my gun again and grabbed the railing as I stepped into the shadows again from the doorway of the junction. Then with the railing in my loose grasp and ready to defend myself I near enough ran through the darkness relying on my hand on the railing to give me enough information for my body to stay oriented.

Clang, clang, clang.

My boots hitting the walkways were echoing around me as I ran with only two things in my mind. The constantly tight string of thought that was “React the moment you sense something in front or behind and defend yourself.” And the counter for the crossroads and the list of directions I needed to turn. Fortunately, I turned left without issue and was on a straight for a while.

Then I heard a load of loud and echo-distorted shouting of multiple voices from somewhere where I’d come from, the cleared junction or beyond. They’d found the bodies and were angry and calling out to me. I couldn’t understand the words through the echoing and multiple people shouting at once though but it likely wasn’t a “Nice to meet you choom, goodbye.”

I kept running, not caring right now if I was being pursued by rabid gangers. Either I’d out run the, lose them in the dark maze like walkway tunnels or they’d be a problem later. I needed to keep the count of crossroads in my head right, I needed to keep myself ready to react should I run into someone ahead of me. I didn’t have the luxury of worrying about enemies that hadn’t caught up yet.

Another crossroad, find the railing going forward just past it. Keep running. Keep ready, keep breathing. Another crossroad. Repeat.

The darkness now was just a background to the more important and much more real sensations I was working with. The feel of my feet on the grating, the sense of balance I had to keep, the feeling of the cold railing I was resting my hand on, the sound of my breathing. I didn’t need light to see by, I just needed to move forward with what I had.

Not running into anyone of the long straight I arrived at the right hand turn around the big storage vat, there I slowed until I nudged myself into the railing stopping me from falling into the gap between the vat and the pipes. I reached out and touched a smooth metal surface, likely the vat itself.

Alright, so now it was turn right, then left and then right to go straight on from my current direction. Just a path around the vat and I was basically at the water treatment facility I had to leave the package at. I did need to make sure I wasn’t being followed by the time I reached there though.

I turned back and pulled out the scope to check the way I’d come from. Nothing. No movement, no crowds of bloodthirsty gangers, no savage, berserk scratcher trying to bit my throat out. A small part of me was disappointed after putting in all the work into that fear at the back of my mind. Kept at the back to focus on what I needed to do right now.

The scope wouldn’t tell me the full story though, the little battery attached to the scope was only powerful enough to pick up nearby things. If I had this scope plugged into a proper bot-rifle with it’s battery it would likely cut through the dark all the way up the straight I’d run down.

But I had to work with what I had.

Putting the scope away I turned and found the railing again, then I oriented myself to go right along the walkway and headed off at a run. It wasn’t long before I found the left hand turn then I ran down and turned left again, then a right turn after that.

I was back on the straight path I had come from on the other side of the vat. Now I just needed to head straight through the crossroads until I hit the water treatment plant. It was quite some distance to it though.

A quick check around with the crossroad I was standing on with the scope told me I was still alone. I hadn’t heard any shouting in a little while so hopefully they were still moving around as a group in the darkness waiting for a gunman to light them up, it would take a long time to find me if they were doing it that way.

Orienting around to the way I needed to go I head off using my near enough patented “Run in the dark with only a damn railing to hold onto and keep your gun down but ready.” method.

My nerves started to cool off as I got further from the scratcher den. My breathing wound down from frantic to calm. Some cool and genuine calm started to return to me as the rhythm of running settled into me. Nothing but the cold of the railing and the pounding of the grating under my feet. No hostiles, no danger.

Minutes passed and I started to grow a bit tired as what was left of the adrenaline left me and simple exercise fatigue settled in. I slowed down to a walk and checked around with the scope, still clear.

It was still a good way away from the water treatment plant, but I needed a quick break. I took a knee there on the walkway half way between two crossroads. Hostiles could only approach from two directions, so I settled there with where I’d come from in front of me. I was watching it through the scope. As for where I was going I only had my ears to rely on.

I needed to catch my breath and give my legs a break though.

Right as the ache totally fades from my legs I heard a quiet clank, then another.

Then another, then another louder one.

Footsteps, fast footsteps. Running footsteps on the metal grating of the walkway. Just one set of footsteps from what I could tell in my panic.

I swung my pistol to aim down the way I’d traveled from, the source of the noise. I couldn’t see anything the heavy clanking grew louder and louder and heavier as it approached.

Right as I wondered if I should pull out the scope to gage the distance to this hostile I felt the grating under my feet start to shake with weight of the hostile’s foot falls.