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Kill Shot
Valentine

Valentine

The grenade caught ’em both easy, brightenin’ the alley like the mother sun. Wind and grit snapped past me, yankin’ my hair this way and that, but I moved right out inta the blast, takin’ a deep breath of roasted meat and metal. Gods I was hungry.

The baked ground cracked beneath my boots, but I paid it no never mind. I wanted to see my work! My first target—a long-legged beauty—had gotten away, and everyone else had been blown clear to pieces. I was hopin’ one of these boys was tough enough to stay more togetha.

I found the dip of the blast and sauntered down the edge. The smoke was thick and fulla tricks, but I found ’em, sure enough. I stepped over the first body and straddled it like a lunar looly, hair droopin’ at my sides.

“Wooeee, friend, but ya look a mess!”

The body was cracked and torn, ragged bits of armor fizzlin’ as its mirror cells tried to make matches and failed.

I clucked my tongue.

“Ya had some toys, fella.” I reached down to touch the phantom plate only to singe my fingers. “Sweet Core, man, but you are hot!”

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I tugged on a thermal glove before goin’ explorin’ again, rollin’ the corpse round until I found three knives strapped to its back. When I picked ’em up they started hummin’—least the first one did, the other two blew out quick, so I tossed them. I flipped my new steel pokey from hand to hand, likin’ the way it felt.

“Why thank ya, friend.” I gave the charred body a lopsided grin. “Looks like old Keb owes ya a favor. Ya just name it and it’s yours.” The corpse only sizzled in response, and I laughed. “Have it your way.”

The smoke broke, and what was lefta the screamer leapt at me, yellin’, spittin’, dyin’. My pistol gave it two new eyes and a nose just for fun. The beastie fell back, and I holstered my gun.

“Now what do ya think you’re doin’?”

I stepped over Mr. Bashful and round to the animal. The thing was still managin’ to croak and gasp, floppin’ round like it had somewhere to be.

Damned if I didn’t snort in admiration.

“Ya may be one ugly critter, but by Core ya keep on comin’.” The three holes I made in its face looked at me, and its mouth opened to make one last gasp. Then I heard a clang and looked down to see my new knife layin’ on the ground. Even stranger, my fingers and legs felt prickly numb, and my throat burned awful fierce. That’s when I realized that there was a line of somethin’ sharp and sticky in my neck, and then I was fallin’ but not movin’ and—

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