Mai ran, head down, arms pumping. She’d activated FREERUNNING and was using it to carve a path through the mothballed industrial complex.
There’s no way Sharktooth can catch me, she thought. Not that she knew whether he was a free runner himself or not.
Her minimap pinged. She’d set it up to chime every time a culler was killed within five hundred paces. Anything further away was pointless. Opening it up as she ran, she took careful note as to where they were and adjusted her course.
A familiar stench reached her nostrils and she grinned at the opportunity it offered. Why she hadn’t thought of it before she didn’t know.
The first week of the Culling, cullers were most likely to play a careful game. The sane ones at least. Like her they would try to avoid other cullers for as long as they wanted so long as they didn’t break the rules by staying in one spot for too long.
After the first flurry of killings that is, she thought, mouth souring. Viewers didn’t want to see a load of people running for cover in the first hours or days of the Culling. They wanted death and destruction from the outset. Which they got in bucketloads.
But how long can we keep away from trouble? A week? More? They’re bound to work out some way of forcing us to fight, to move us into closer proximity. Can’t have viewers getting bored and losing them. Wouldn’t be good for the Celestial Court to lose out on all that income.
Income generated by all the holo-ads, promotions, merchandise, and bets.
Forcing them closer would also mean that the Culling didn’t last too long. Running battles, whilst popular with the loyal citizens of the empire, tended to have a negative effect on trade and since the Culling wasn’t restricted to levels, it could have a tremendously negative effect upon even ten-mile establishments.
But the sewers were the perfect place to hide until she had to leave. She was already two days into the Culling. Which meant she could leave the others to kill as many others off before she was forced into wherever the drones pushed her.
Using her nose, she tracked down the stench. As it got stronger she saw that it was coming from a heavy iron hatch set into the wall.
Shit, that’s bloody massive. Mai ran her hands around the hatch, looking at every piece of it. From what she was able to work out, it was opened remotely by hydraulics.
How the hell am I supposed to open this bloody thing! She bit her lip in thought for a split second. Opening her nanite-menu, she scrolled through the options.
Frag? She didn’t have a DEMOLITIONS skill, but it was worth a try. Grunting, she made five grenades at a cost of fifty per cent BIOMASS. Taking another look at the hinges, she started to push the grenades into any gaps she could.
Stepping back, she took a critical look at her job.
How the hells do I blow them at the same time? There wasn’t a chance that she’d be able to pull all of the pins and get to a safe place before they detonated.
It’s never this hard on the holomyths! She dove back into her menu, skipping past the combat choices as she tried to find something she could use to pull the pins of the grenades at the same time. Her foot tapped as she did, it was taking far too long. Rope!
Grinning at the prospect of not having to feel pain as she created the rope she made a few metres of it. At less than half a per cent per metre, she wasn’t too bothered about the BIO-MASS. Taking care, she passed the rope through the grenade’s pins securing each in turn, then slowly and carefully made her way back to an alcove.
Tucking down, she gathered the rope in her hands until there was just enough tension, then yanked.
“What the hell?” She was more than disappointed at the result. Nothing happened. “What the fucking fuck!”
Fist clenched she pushed herself to her feet and stepped out of the alcove.
Boom!
DAMAGE! 15%
DISORIENTED
BLEED @1% PER SECOND
HEALTH 84%
Staggering, body feeling as though it had been hit with a thousand tiny hammers, Mai made her way to the hatch.
“Bloody fuses. Grenades have fuses.” Cheeks puffing, she blew out a breath as she remembered just how long she’d held onto the grenade before. Fear and adrenaline had completely wiped the fact that they were timed from her mind.
Gods are looking down on me, she thought, raising a shaking hand to mop her brow.
She smiled at her handiwork. Shattered iron lay scattered around and the hatch had been completely blown open.
Nose wrinkling at the stench of the released sewer gases, she looked into the opening. From what she could see it would be a tight fit. But she’d make it. Someone’s going to have a shit day fixing this.
Gasping at the heat of the still-smoking edges, she carefully climbed in.
***
After two hours of squirming through tight pipes whilst pulling the backpack after her, Mai was exhausted. She’d had to use nanites to create a breathing mask as her head had started to spin.
Reaching a bend down in the pipe, she rested momentarily, trying to massage some life into her screaming thighs and get a break from the pain. Opening up her menu, she scrolled through to the CLIMB section, smiling as she spotted the ultimate solution. She had no idea how long she may be headed down, but she wanted to be prepared as much as possible. It only cost one per cent and was more than worth it if it stopped her from falling into the stygian darkness below. Gritting her teeth, she admired the spurs that now jutted from her heels and palms.
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
After this she’d tried creating low-light and even no-light goggles to see what was below, but this pipe seemed to just go one forever. So far that it felt as though it reached to the middle of the planet.
Shrugging her backpack around to her front, she dipped a hand in and pulled out a random snack. She was surprised to feel just how empty the backpack was.
All of the exercise was taking its toll and added to the nanites and their never-ending hunger, she was quickly going through everything she’d collected.
I really don’t fancy having to cook up a bloody mogwai. Licking her fingers clean of chocolate, she started climbing, this time down.
Sooner than she thought she found herself at the end of the pipe. By this time, her muscles were cramping, so hard that she thought they were actually going to tear. It didn’t matter how many nanite tools she used, she still had to use her own muscles to power herself through the damn pipe.
The stench, even through the mask, was worse than she remembered. Looking down, she judged the drop to be a few yards. Nothing too dangerous.
The flow of the river was slow. From what she could tell it was barely moving at a crawl. Depth was another matter, however. Opening her menu she selected her old hazmat suit and dropped into the mess as soon as she was covered.
It was as if she’d dropped into molten marshmallow. Only shitty. The feeling utterly revolted her, and she swore as she fought to keep her numerous sweet snacks down. After being away from the stench for so long, it was overwhelming. With everything she had been through since joining the Culling, it sure felt like it had been forever as she initially fought her way through this shit.
Despite her revulsion at both the stench and the warmth of the river, she noticed that it was actually soothing her tired muscles. Accepting that she wasn’t going to be getting away from it for a while, she decided to accept it. Her tired muscles were grateful to be supported by the noxious mix of urine and excrement, so she floated, letting herself rest for a while. Letting the warmth soak into her muscles.
What the hell? Her foot felt as though she’d dipped it into acid. Mind woolly she tried to rub at her eyes, but her hands were stopped by the visor of her hazmat suit.
I must have fallen asleep! Her exhaustion had overwhelmed her. Panicked, she checked her timer. She’d been asleep for at least three hours. Where the hell are the drones?
Opening up her minimap she looked at the path she’d carved through the sewers as she’d been asleep. The flow had been just fast enough to stop her from breaking the two-hour rule.
The pain got worse and she screamed as it spiked.
DAMAGE! 5%
BLEED @1% PER SECOND
POISON @1% PER SECOND
HEALTH 93%
Curling up into a sitting position she saw a small mogwai trying to devour her foot. It looked more like a baby than a full-grown adult.
Cocky little shit must have thought I was dead. Gathering her strength she lashed out with her other foot, catching the side of its head.
HIT! 50% DAMAGE
STUNNED!
Three birds appeared over the head of the vile creature. Kicking again, she killed it, ignoring the notification. Reaching down she gently prised the teeth out of her foot. If she hadn’t she wouldn’t have been able to HEAL herself. She was able to quickly repair the boot of her hazmat suit, and just as she was about to activate her healing, her stomach cramped. God, I feel sick, was all the warning she had before she vomited inside her helmet.
Gasping she sucked the vile liquid back into her mouth just as she heaved again. Unable to draw air she clawed at her helmet in desperation. The vomit kept coming and the helmet kept filling up.
Not again! This time she didn’t have Andries to save her, and she’d never felt so helpless.
DAMAGE! 15%
POISONED @2% PER SECOND
PANIC!
CHOKING @5% PER SECOND
HEALTH 69%
She barely noticed the notification, too lost in her panic as she started to drown in her own vomit. Fingers scrabbling at her helmet release, made clumsy by the thick gloves she wore, Mai tried to scream. More vomit was sucked down into her chest.
DAMAGE! 40%
POISONED @1% PER SECOND
CHOKING @10% PER SECOND
HEALTH 9%
Her vision started to go red. All she could do was scrabble at her helmet. She could feel her fingers getting weaker and weaker.
With one last effort she grabbed hold of her helmet on either side and twisted hard, ripping its seals open.
It didn’t matter how noxious the air was around her, it still tasted like the freshest air she’d ever breathed. Mouth open, she sucked deeply before vomiting again.
The notifications kept coming.
I’m bloody dying, and then, through the mists of her panic, she finally activated her HEALING and TREAT SERIOUS WOUNDS.
There was a moment of shock, and then the nanites set to work.
BIO-MASS 95% - 90% - 85% - 80%
The countdown continued as her health bar continued upwards. For every 5% of health she regained she lost exactly the same amount of BIO-MASS.
If she could, she would have eaten a snack from the back pack but despite the healing her throat was raw, and the idea of food made her stomach rebel once more.
Using 2% BIO-MASS to create a staff, she stood on shaky legs and made her way to the side of the sewer where there was a worker’s walkway.
Tried beyond belief she lay there, counting her blessings, and resolving to be far more careful next time.
***
A few hours later, once her stomach had stopped rebelling, Mai finished off her snack, licking her fingers to ensure she didn’t lose the slightest crumb. It was a brand she wasn’t really fond of, but she was so low on BIO-MASS that she realised beggars couldn’t be choosers.
Fully healed she still felt utterly drained by the ordeal. She couldn’t tell if that was a mental or physical tiredness and if she was honest with herself she didn’t really care.
All that mattered was she was alive. She’d take being tired over being dead any day of the week.
Calling up the Culling League table she looked at the stats. Her mouth hung open in surprise. Some cullers had managed to rack up three figure kill numbers. How, she wasn’t sure, but looking at their profiles they were all prisoners, gangers, or ex-military.
No normal people were anywhere near the top ranks.
What surprised her was that she was in the top twenty per cent. She also had an approval rating of thirty per cent, way higher than any other normal person.
People like me? It was an odd feeling. She knew every culler was being watched. You couldn’t do anything in life without being watched after all, but that they actually liked or approved of her was surprising.
She gave a thumbs up, not knowing who might be watching.
I’m such a dweeb, she smiled ruefully. No one’s going to be watching as I wade through poo.
A warning chimed. There’d been a kill nearby. Calling up her map, she saw that it was less than thirty paces to her east around the gentle curve of the tunnel she was in.
There were only two ways for the victor to go. Away from her, or towards her. Shouldering her bag, she formed an SMG and knife hand combination.
Leaving her TUNNEL COMBAT passive until she actually needed it, she activated LARCENY and made her way towards the kill.
There’s always a chance the other person is bleeding out, and they might have supplies.
Moving slower as she approached the kill-zone, she turned the corner and bumped straight into another culler. Face-to-face with them only one thing was said. Only one thing could be said.
“Johnny?”