Mandy was snacking on a slim-jim, classic flavoured, when the lights to a large and well cared for swat personal carrier rumbled down the street. Her body, one leg draped outside whilst she roat the sill cowgirl style, idly tapping at the brick siding as the vehicle slowed its approach. No doubt, noticing the small and improvised defence the handful of Tower forces had erected, a sort of—stand-off ensuing between the two sides that filled the air with a tension practically palpable. It was little more than a few trucks done up in the road-warrior technical style, some light armour plating on the sides, a heavy gun on the roof, and they had been, thus far, simply present to eliminate any ghouls that were wandering about, supplying security—however, their presence was clearly not taken very lightly.

“Stand down and disarm you're weapons!” The swat vehicle demanded its too-bright floodlights bathing the world in illumination as though it were still daytime out… and, searing the retenas of anyone who looked straight at them.

Wandering the city by nightfall actually wasn't as dangerous as everyone made it out to be. The thing was, ghouls relied on the sunlight to fuel themselves—or meat. But, absent the latter, they were a lot more dormant during the hours without light than they were during the day. That wasn't to say it was totally safe, but they were markedly less aggressive…

“We are High-rise soldiers! If you want us to surrender, you’d better fucking make us!” A familiar old and surly goat of a captain shouted back, his voice booming with authority and determination.

“This is your second warning!” The carrier called again. “Failure to comply will—”

“Oh, stop with the Posturing!” Isabella cried out, exhausted, the bags under her eyes dark and beyond weary. The thing was, her voice arrived so loud that it could have seriously rattled some ears… the woman somehow using her power to amplify it while stepping out of the center-most vehicle and showing herself in the open. “Let's not play these games, Strom! If you’ve bothered to come, you already know what we're here for!”

There was a whine of hydraulics that preceded several leather-jacketed—soldiers which all hustled from the rear, all spreading out, guns not aimed but held with a menacing promise to give as good as they got. Then, through them, an older and bespectacled gentleman stepped forwards. His attire—unassuming but formal. Dress pants tan, shoes glossy brown leather, coat a sort of—off-green shading… He wasn't very tall, his features more sharp than handsome. But he held in his eye an intensity that was immediately noticeable, marking him out from the crowd. Mix in the crowning baldness, thin but neatly trimmed beard, and Mandy would have pegged him as a college professor… or a therapist… or, someone within that realm of possibility… The man glanced across the assembled individuals before him, his gaze looking to Isabella but not staying there, as though he were searching for others who he knew… They held the longest on Captain Smith, neither man seeming to want to look away before the presumed Archibald Strom barked a laugh, returning his gaze to Isabella.

“You call Smith a light escort these days?”

“Comparitively to the things I’ve personally seen? Yes. And that’s no offence meant to Mr Smith, merely an observational reality for myself as of late.”

“I see… And this mysterious—mercenary?”

“Up here!” Mandy called out, waving whilst still chewing on her snack. Boot bopping along to a song she was playing in an earbud.

“Cute… You put a mask on a child and think that’s going to make her scare me into believing all of this? Are you trying to produce a horror film with kids, clowns and zombies?

“If you want a demonstration, just ask her what’s in you're left pocket! Don't be surprised, however, when she proves to be—scary.”

Archibald Strom looked back at Amanda with a pensive twist to his perpetually disgruntled features. The man standing there for several moments as though considering it before shaking his head. “No, I don't think I will invite that upon myself. Besides, I’ve seen the pictures, and I am more interested in why you think I would agree to this deal? Half? When you couldn't even manage a third of what’s at that Airport?”

“That's a touch off base with our manpower.”

“It is not! You're military consists of a select handful of powerful individuals and guards to watch you're walls. I know you're population hasn't grown beyond a few hundred, and to pretend of such is both foolish and detrimental to our negotiations! I want three-quarters of the military vehicles. Helicopters included, as well as all the weapons, ammunition and associate hardware. You can have Green International.”

“Ha! You're not that stupid, Archibald. There’s no way this deal progresses unless we come out of it with equal ability to inflict harm on one another.”

“Then there is simply no more to speak about!” Strom stated, tone flat and emotionless.

“And we will proceed without you, hoping that what we recover will be able to flatten you're tiny bunkers and legionnaires under several tons of American war machine.”

“Mercenary!” Strom called, shifting his attention to Amanda and ignoring the others. “I’ll give you whatever it is you desire from this arrangement you have made! Join me; there’s no need to involve these tree-huggers! You want power, status? A settlement to rule over? Hundreds of people at your beck and call?”

“That won't work!” Isabella sang, clearly pleased and evidently confident in the knowledge that Amanda couldn't be bribed. “There’s nothing you have she wants. She’s just bored. I know it sounds bizarre, but it's reality. Trust me, we’ve tried already.”

Strom appeared to chew on this for a time, his gaze not leaving Mandy until he grudgingly turned back to Isabella, face locked in a stern and unyielding expression. “You have my terms, Isabella! I’ll not be deterred from them! Do you want my forces? My protection? Well, there’s a fee for such a thing, and it is as I dictate it to be, not anyone else! And I promise you, the moment I catch wind you're making a go at Quonset, I will mobilize everything I have to intercede!”

“Fine! Then we simply will call off the deal.” Isabella announced, shrugging as she did so. “Appologies Subliminal. We will not be proceeding with our prior arrangements!”

“Nooo problem!” Mandy called back, enjoying the pageantry of it all and knowing exactly what came next.

“Sub-liminal…” Strom muttered voice almost grumbling in his throughout with thoughtful consideration, looking almost pleased with himself, entirely like the cat that had trapped the mouse. “What did they promise you? Power? Luxury?”

“A lightsaber! Among other things!”

That seemed to give the man pause, the expected flow of the conversation utterly derailing as he just stared at her like she were a queer stain he found in his sheets…

“You promised her a what?” He demanded, voice approaching anger.

“You heard her! And you know he have the people to at least try and make it happen! She also demanded a forcefield, jet-boots, and all manner of exceedingly dangerous ammunition because it would make her days more interesting. But go ahead! Make promises you can't keep with a dangerously unhinged atypical that we are planning to have wipe out a city’s worth of undead! See how that turns out!”

“Are either of you actually sane, and regardless of that anser, was it you're intention to upset me with this—asinine joke? Because I think I’d be less angry were this an attempt at assassination!”

“I’d be willing to split the difference in your favour. We might not have the manpower to ensure we can proceed safely, but you similarly do not possess the means to actually deliver on what Subliminal wants! It’s a partnership for a reason. Neither of us alone can do it without the other interfering.”

“And the helicopters?”

“Off the table.” Mandy reiterated. “It's not a matter up for debate.”

“That’s absurd! Why bother? Does Mason even know this conversation is taking place?”

“He does not!” Isabella chirped, very pleased with herself. “Burtrom Kole made a last-moment deal with a random traveller who made bold claims. He threw his dart in the dark, struck bullseye, but never had the wherewithal to actually check where his throw landed. He has claims on the helicopters and their parts. However, I don't think he actually believed she would follow through. They gave her a flare, a timeframe, and vague instructions to defend the area until they could arrive. None of that, evidently, was at all specific beyond Subliminal agreeing she would not try to lay claim to more than she could walk away with.”

“Who in their right mind that is supposedly so powerful would agree to such absurd terms?”

“A hero for hire!” Mandy proclaimed, puffing out her chest with immense pride.

Yet, all her outburst seemed to do was leave Archibald Strom seemingly lacking a clear decision on how to proceed… he wasn't exactly scowling, but he was certainly not happy. Honestly, Mandy wasn't even sure happy was an emotion within the man's repertoire.

“I would suggest that we all reconvene at Green International in the morning so you might witness that this is not some elaborate ruse. I assure you, once you see it for yourself, you will come to an easier decision.”

“And what of Mason's people? What happens when they decide they do not agree with you're plan to cut them out of everything beyond such a slim margin?”

“If our people not already riding around in heavy armour isn't enough of a deterrent? Then perhaps because Subliminal seems to be quite—passionate about adhering to the letter of her agreements. She’s already stated that if we try for the helicopters, she’ll kill us. However, as we have an agreement for everything else with her—”

“She will protect our interests, same as there's…” Strom finished, eyeing Mandy with uncertainty. “Are you really that powerful girl?”

“My mom was pretty strong before she gave birth to me, one of the first mutants. I'm not much like her, but I’d say I'm fairly up to par so far as potential for destruction and mayhem could be concerned if I tried hard…” She added sweetly, knowing the kind of devastation she could wreak if ever got her hands on something like a fat-boy from Fallout! God fucking dammit! She could kill mountains!

“One of the first mutants…” Strom repeated softly… “You wouldn't happen to have a real name, would you?”

“That would ruin all the fun! It's always so interesting to watch people try and guess!”

“Didn't actually know that part…” Isabella commented, regaining Strom's gaze as she continued. “But, I’d believe it. Also, as I said, she’s quite—eccentric…”

“Insane, more likely!” Mind corrected, honestly telling the truth… the fat-boy idea was quickly becoming something she might try to shoehorn with the brainiacs…

It was morning when a familiar rhythmic knock banged on her apartment door, a sort of small tune to the sound of, knock, knock-knock-knock—knock, knock-knock, filling the air and causing Mandy's head to turn and regard the noise. She was, as it happened, already awake. And though she had slept and enjoyed a steaming hot shower, the first thing she’d done was swap to a body that had both gotten a full night's rest and already cleaned off. The result was that she was feeling, despite only a handful of hours rest, refreshed and that she’d gone into the shower while essentially already clean. Yet, despite the ability to simply do away with such mortal concerns as the opportunity presented itself, Mandy was not, nor did she ever want to become a machine. She enjoyed her creature comforts as much as everyone else did. The only real difference being that she had a magical skip button that would allow her to bypass many, if not all, the requirements her body needed. It was more a point of fact, rather than some unsubstantiated theory, that her alternate selves could vary as widely or narrowly as one could imagine.

She’d seen crippled versions of herself. Those with long hair those without hair. Variations that had the distinct belly bump of pregnancy, iterations that held a soulless, lifeless gaze, their features battle-worn, scarred and exhausted. She’d come across Mandy’s, who were driving a car somewhere down the street while she was walking, others who were in the middle of urinating. She’d seen herself posed as though she were being chewed on by ghouls or about to execute someone or any number of a truly endless quantity of possibilities that could all be reset and changed with the simple fluttering flicker of her power. As it happened, she never found that she really needed to try very hard to find examples of herself that were close to what she wanted.

Granted, she wouldn't really expect to find a shadow clone that was riding a scooter and pulling off sick kickflips whilst up in High-rise tower, assuming that’s what she was after. But that was mostly because causality was less at her command and more responded well to what she was already prone to do. If she went and found a scooter, then, yeah, she’d probably find quite a few of herself trying to grind off of whatever they could find! Which wasn't to say she hadn't encountered her fair share of bizarre Mandy’s that didn't really make sense—but the point she was trying to make was that, in the grand scheme of things, finding a transdimensional twin to herself that had decided to hit the hay a little sooner, and, subsequently woken up after completing her morning routine was—trivial when all was said and done…

Though there was a heater in the room, the evident lack of insulation—a very detrimental flaw in the whole design of the apartment, Mandy had felt an unmistakeable chill in the air. Thus, had donned her new sweater for the first time after putting it through the washer. The warm and snuggly cloth was both comfortable and, significantly hampering when it came to easy access to all her various—weapons. Still, it didn't bug her too much to need to reach under the thing and pluck whatever gun she wanted, so she was going to leave it on while at the nearby airport today. Which was to say that Amanda was pretty much all packed up and ready to go when she opened the door and saw Will standing there with—what smelled dangerously like fresh coffee…

“Here!” Will grinned, reaching out with a steaming and disposable paper cup as he handed to Amanda without standing on ceremony. “Figured a runt like you would be a caffeine addict.”

Mandy took the proffered offering to her greatness with all the dignity and aplum she could manage, holding back a biting retort towards Will’s penis size, vis a vis how many steroids one would have to take to look as he did—without the mutation of course. “Ohhhh… it even tastes fresh…” She outright moaned, completely unrepentant, as the noise crossed the line from workplace friendly to something some might find in an R-rated amateur film.

“Yeah… one of the brainiacs that lives here has her ability react pretty strongly to anything gree-thumb related. At some point, someone brought back a few bags of Starbucks beans and—somehow, presumably using their bullshit rabbit and hat science, she managed to make the same beans that also can grow in our weather. Like, a good third of the plants on the roof are strictly for coffee, and as residents of the tower, we get a free cup every morning.”

“The perks of being at the top of the communist food chain!” Mandy toasted, “May our fellow comrades never discover that they're poor!”

“Eh, it's less communism around here, and more a pseudo-capitalist oligarchy. Anyone can technically afford an apartment if they are lucky enough or work for it.”

“And the oligarchy?”

“The councils split into two halves. One is elected, the other is permanent. But, for the most part, anyone with a solid power pretty much gets the royal treatment. Not gonna say it's fair, but if it wasn't like this, then you’d get all the important people pissing off to go live somewhere else.”

“Like they did at the eastern settlements,” Mandy noted and earned herself a grinning finger gun.

“Anywho. Isabella wants to know when you’d be ready to depart. She’s politely asked that we leave sooner than later as Strom isn't much of a late riser—or very patient…”

“I could be there within you're literal next heartbeat.”

The big man blinked, seemed to consider what she’d said, then commented—”But you're not…”

“I mean, I wouldn't say no to a car ride…”

“Ha! I knew you were lazy at heart.” Will chuckled, beconing Mandy to follow as he turned around and they headed downstairs.

At the ground floor was an area cordoned off specifically for vehicles. Along with a secondary gate, again, meant for such traffic so that it might not disrupt the flow of people spread out elsewhere within the High-rise domain. There were a few examples of some heavily armoured options. Two armoured trucks looked like they’d spent time delivering money to banks. Another hummer-sort of deal, looking military-grade but she wasn't exactly an expert on that sort of thing… And, there was of course, a kind of battle bus to go along with the technicals she’d seen the previous night, which was almost too fitting for the overarching narrative but… By in large, what really stood out was the massive farm tractor, not because it was some great hidden hack of the apocalypse, but because it was just so—odd to see…

“Whats with the farm equipment?” Mandy asked, noting that there were also quite a few miscellaneous trailer attachments to the thing that—she couldn't have begun trying to name, only knowing that they were somehow related to whatever magic farmers used to feed cities.

“It's a sort of running bounty… Will answered without much interest. “The council places a fairly high value on anything and everything remotely agriculturally useful. The phrase long term and our future usually comes up whenever they start talking about that sort of thing. The plan, tentative as it is, is to eventually migrate like Mason's people are planning to do. There’s just not much need for a city filled with so much concrete these days… I mean, yeah, obviously, this is where you can find all the salvage we needed to start setting up shop when we started but… usable space is at a premium. And, as people settle in and start having kids again…”

“The need for food is going to get problematic.”

“Heh… exactly! It's not really a problem right now, but it's not like we're tossing food out the window because we have too much of it or anything. Scavenging actually offsets a huge amount of what people eat around here and, at some point, we're going to abuse the fish population so bad that we’ll need to look elsewhere. For a guy like Strom, he doesn't have to worry since he’s right next to an old golf course and, beyond that, has been supposedly exploring as far as Greenville these days.” And, at Mandy’s raised eyebrow, her mask still off as she drank her coffee, he added, “Ugh, right, not a local… It's a decent-sized town a little west of here. Actually used to live there was a kid before I moved here.”

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“Work?”

“School, then work.” Will nodded, the pair of them coming up on a sort of guard post that was nearer the exit. “Hey, Tim! Let me get the keys to a truck.”

“Ughhh… what for?” The man asked, not seeming quite so hostile as the last guards they’d run across but more idly curious.

“This—isn't going to be a repeat of last time… is it?”

“No, no! Everyone’s more or less learned a lesson in the art of communication,Tims just being a nosy arse.”

The man in question merely shrugged, reaching onto a pegboard behind him and pulling off a set of keys with a tag on them that was written on in sharpy. “Can't blame a guy for trying. Heard what happened to Zach and Bill. Plus, there was the whole incident in town… and all the rumours spreading around… This her, by the way?”

“Depends who her is.” Will grinned, glancing at Mandy as she merely stood, enjoying what few sips remained of her drink.

“The ugh… crazy new girlfriend you found while wandering around the city?”

“He’s, like, the fifth person who thinks were dating…” Mandy commented more than anything else.

Will just scratched at the back of his neck, jaw working while the guard laughed. “I also heard she supposedly kicked your ass in a fight! And, that she took pity on you, like a wounded puppy, then carried you back to High-rise in a princess carry.”

Mandy snorted, smiling in earnest, while the brawler beside her chuckled as well. “Not quite how I remember the details, but… who knows, I was knocked out for a while there…” He grunted, eyeing Amanda as though trying to figure out if she’d done something unbecoming with his unconscious form which—sadly, she had not. But she would be neither confirming nor denying any such claims as they arrived.

“Yeah… don't worry, dude, I’d be into a girl who could do that to me as well!”

“We're not actually dating Tim.”

“Saying it won't stop the rumour mill bud! Anyways, you've got lucky truck number thirteen!”

“The hell? Isn't that a half-size? I won't even fit in that thing!”

“Not my call, Will, Captain Smiths orders. You're not hauling cargo, so you're on gas rations, just like everyone else. The only reason you're getting a vehicle to begin with is orders we got from the council.”

“C'mon Tim… aren't we friends? We go way back! All the way to high school, man!”

“You were three grades older than me! I don't even think we spoke to each other!”

“Then what about hometown loyalties? Do the bonds of brotherhood not tie us tighter than some stupid—job?”

“The tanks sitting just under half.” Time grinned wider, dangling the keys as though trying to entertain a baby. “Bring it back above the quarter-mark it's deemed your needs require else the balance will reflect upon you're weekly dues.”

“Where the hell is the trust!” Will cried out, swiping the keys with a lazy swish of his arm before turning around and walking away in dismay.

“Right, where you're reputation is mate! Lost in the gutters!”

It was hard for Mandy to avoid chuckling, waving goodbye at the young guard before skipping time to catch up with Will’s longer stride. “We waiting for Isabella?” She asked, thinking she could already see the—truck they were being given… An old Toyota that pretty much just looked like a Corolla, but with a truck-bed… tiny…

“She’s probably already there… or will be soon. Don't think she wanted to run the risk of Strom getting there without anyone on our side to meet him. She’s sort of—busy like that… always on the move, always doing something…”

“You know, I was wondering why one of you're leaders was out part of a patrol team when we first met…”

“Well… we weren't really doing that…” Will replied, unlocking the very vehicle she’d suspected they'd been given before, reluctantly, trying to fit himself inside of it while struggling with the seat and steering wheel. “We were—god dammit! I can't even! Mmmhm! Alright… there we go… ugh, yeah, we weren't even actually there to patrol. Usually, that sort of thing is reserved for a team a little more basic since it's a fairly low-priority area. Not much around, not much to see… nobody usually in the area trying to sneak about… But Isabella had been trying to work out some plan to open up a huge pit and just lead all the ghouls into it. That’s why I was there, why Jason, our ex best flyer, was there, and the Speedster you killed. It was more a team of specialists that were working out the plan. When you showed up.” He continued, the entire vehicle’s suspicion rocking with displeasure as he wiggled inside it, “Izzy and I were sitting in the truck trying to figure out how deep I should make the pit when—yeah, we all just started trying to kill each other.”

“So… why didn't you try that sort of thing sooner? I mean, assuming it would work… The pits you were making looked fairly—adequate…”

“More a plan born of necessity than anything else. We hadn't really needed to try and get in there, well, we wanted to, but after Norwood went and got his suit fried in a fight with Strom, Isabella’s been on a war path saying that we need to start focusing on technology of a more dangerous persuasion. I think seeing her husband nearly killed sort of set her off a bit… Thing is, while she got most of the council to agree with her, we are sort of lacking a plethoric abundance of stuff to make so said weapons with.”

“Because you're settlements so boxed in.”

“It plays a strong part.” Will nodded, turning the truck over and almost delicately shifting it into drive with two fingers. “Can't really head south on account of all the undead around Quonset and the surrounding area. Can't really go east since Mason’s still out there. Directly north puts you against Issac’s nutjobs, and pretty much anything to the general west is Strom's territory. He’s got the most useful people and resources by a wide margin, but, the way I hear it, has plenty of issues all his own.”

“Well, then, who the hell decided to make a settlement here?”

“It's not all bad. We're right on the river, close to downtown, sort of—ignored because there’s not a lot near us that’s actually assessable…”

“And you're plan? With the pits, I mean.”

“I'm sure it would have eventually worked…” Will offered, though didn't sound that enthused about it. “I mean, I’d of been out there every damned day for months busting my ass while pretending to be an excavator, but… Eventually, we’d of made a big enough hole to fit all the undead… We don't actually have many geomancers at Hightower. A lot of pyro’s, a good few aquamancers, lots of the classic three mutations and a smattering of atypicals but… our best resource is how many brainiacs decided to settle here because we aren't trying to rule the world.”

“Partial democracy is better than no democracy?”

“More that were the only ones who don't keep slaves. Or indentured servants. Weird that all the geeks don't seem to like autocratic regimes. Almost like they're too smart to want to be collared and chained.”

“I didn't think the eastern settlements did the whole slave thing…”

“It's close enough to the idea that most people think it counts. If you're told to do something by someone in charge of you, while the fruits of those efforts get taken away and replaced with scraps… well…”

“I get it. High-rise lets them do what they want, and they vote on collective projects that help the community.”

“An accurate description if I’ve ever heard one spoken.” Will agreed, putting a little gas into the tiny four-cylinder engine as the vehicle roared, though more like a kitten than a tiger…

They pulled up to the improvised barricades that had been installed in the wake of Mandy's arrival, only to find the area already filled with people. There were several, what she could only call, ruggedly nerdy-looking individuals all standing around on High-rise’s side, each speaking in quieted tones, one or two wearing labcoats, the other’s button-up shirts. None were the sort you’d see in a lab—more akin to backyard meth engineers who combined concepts like Metalica t-shirts, cheap sneakers, but pristine white coats. Their varying degrees of hygienic care more appearing to arise from a place of personal preference rather than proven availability.

There was no shortage of riot-gear-clad guards either. Many wielding rather impressive armaments, stern faces filled with steely resolve marking them all as competent veterans to their task. She recognized Peter Norwood, who was present amongst the others, absent his metal suit. However, he was wearing a kind of exoskeleton system with a very experimental-looking weapon placed on a nearby bench that was filled with all manner of capacitors and tiny transformers.

“Is that an arc-gun?” Mandy whispered, unable to help the glee in her voice as her imagination took off from the gates without the starting of the race yet being called.

“No… I'm pretty sure he’s called that thing some—absurd acronym, but it's more or less a kind of coil cannon.”

Cannon? Cannon! That—beautiful genius had made a handheld coil-gun? That was straight out her some of her favourite science-fiction! Maybe not very practical, but since when had that ever been the point? “You think he’d let me fire it?” She whispered softly, mesmerized by the quacky, garage-style shenanigans she was seeing and dreaming of what it might be like to own it.

“It uses a whole lot of power… I’ve seen him fire it, and he’s got a big backpack he needs to use to get the thing juiced…”

Oh… so it wasn't quite at the portable stage yet… Still, so far as it went, it was a start! And once she cleared out both airports, he’d have plenty of spare goodies to begin experimenting with!

“That's a—really creepy face you're making… mind putting that mask on? I think you might scare the brainiacs…”

“Condition one if we ever fuck? You're wearing a bag the first time for that comment alone.” Then, she was pushing out the door, mask on because, in all honesty, she felt kind of naked without it…

For his part, Will just chuckled as he half pried, half squeezed himself out of the driver's seat, the big galoot nearly tripping over his own boots as he tried extremely hard not to cause any damage to the paper-thin roof. Presumably, failing.

“Subliminal!” Isabella called, smiling ear to ear as she began walking over, separating away from a man who was—absurdly, almost dressed like a member of Hitler’s SS… Long black trenchcoat, military cap that was ominously low on his brow, dark clothes beneath the jacket… If it weren't for the odd paint job on the thing, the fact he was speaking with an American accent, and was, in point of fact, dark-skinned, Mandy might have thought she was seeing some kind of—neo-nazi… “This is—Legate Simmons. And he’s Strom’s right-hand…”

“Unfortunately.” The surprisingly soft-voiced man said, extending a hand to shake with her as they approached. “Lord Strom was called away to deal with an emergency outside of the city. Though it's not ideal, as my presence is likely already sorely missed, it is, nonetheless, a compromise we’ve had to make.”

“So, I take it you’d rather we start sooner than later?” Mandy asked, being somewhat rhetorical given what was already implied, but Simmons answered anyway.

“I’ve been given full authority to make good on this bargain of Isabella’s. So, presuming you can deliver, I’ll start putting plans into motion before I leave.” then, looking to the councilwoman, he added, “If I'm satisfied. You’ll have a full century building a temporary outpost at the airport, as we agreed. Likewise, the team we will be sending to accompany you're own to Quonset will be part of this force. I’d spare more if I could, but I'm not so ignorant to think you're not aware of just how thinly we’re stretched these days.”

“I figured you’d be eagre to get you're hands on some big toys.”

“They would not be sitting around for more than the time it takes to crew them.” The man smiled, expressive features actually quite friendly looking.

“Well.” Mandy began, starting to pull off her pack before shoving it in a surprised Will's hands, bouncing on her toes a few times to warm up, looking around before spying what she wanted. She blinked over to a nearby Tower guard, the man jolting with her sudden appearance as she pointed to his M-four, “Can I borrow that? Will make things a lot faster for me if I don't have to use handguns.”

“Ugh…”

“Yes, give her the gun, Scott!” Isabella called the man, almost reluctantly, nodding as he pulled the strap off of himself, shoulders slouching a touch as he did so.

“I’ll be gentle with it!”

“As you say, ma’am…”

What came next would be—passionless… And as Mandy froze time, walking over to the fence while checking the magazine and chamber of the rifle, she momentarily remembered that she’d demanded some form of compensation on the part of High-tower before she actually did this. In all fairness, Mandy hadn't really been serious about it, well, not the timeframe, at least, she wasn't dumb and knew people couldn't just snap their fingers and wish things into existence! Well, okay, maybe there was an exception or two out there, herself notwithstanding; however, she felt that if she didn't at least make some stink about it, then nobody would take her demands seriously…

For a moment, brief and fantastical as it was, Mandy contemplated asking to use the coil-gun… but also knew that some dishes were best dined upon after they'd had time to cook. Why spoil the surprise of shooting such a marvel of craftsmanship on simple ghouls when it would be soo much cooler to go find another Hulk and see who held up against what?

“Hey!” She eventually called out, causing everyone to turn, spin or jump as she came back through the opposite side of the fence, earning herself no few surprised and confused looks. “Anyone actually make any headway on my demands? I'm pretty sure I asked for a little reciprocation before I actually did this!”

Isabella looked—shocked for a handful of heartbeats, her expression almost dropping off the map a moment later as realization and despair filled her gaze; before of course, determination and resolve covered it right back up again.

“What’s this all about now?” Simmons asked, looking somewhat bemused as he did so.

“It's our part of the deal…” Isabella explained, then, louder, she said, “We didn't have enough time to actually—make what you want yet…”

“But I did have a prototype for something interesting!” Peter called out, waving to get Mandy’s attention as all his fellow brainiacs seemed to stiffen somewhat nervously. “It's—highly dangerous, very, very temperamental… but we all got together last night to try and make it—somewhat usable…” He offered, nervously eyeing the freaking coil gun on the table as Mandy tried not to internally squeal! Screw what she’d fucking said! Ghouls were perfectly fine targets! Ooooooh fuck, she was getting a little wet… freaking hell!

A different egghead stepped forwards, his own beak-like and ruddy nose twitching with a sniffle as he waved his hand towards the huge weapon with almost manic excitement. “It's only charged for three shots!” He began, clearly cold but also quite excited. “And it's set up to fire solid steel slugs at supersonic velocities! It's—entirely gimmicky in every sense of the word, but it's also essentially shooting small cannonballs with the recoil redistributed in a theoretically even balance. It shouldn't feel much worse than that rifle, we think…”

“Can it be—reloaded?” Mandy purred, forgetting about the M-four as she let it hang from the strap, hyper fixating on the horrible abomination of glorious science before her!

“The slugs are all preloaded, not really too easy to get at with version-two… and of course, the third shot actually starts dropping off quite noticeably at long distances compared to the other’s but… with the time we had, were hoping it will be enough of a proof of concept that we hold our bargain in good faith.”

“Oh no…” Mandy whispered, picking up the very heavy, completely unwieldy, but perfect monstrosity of hypothetical beauty as she held it up, causing all nearby to swiftly move away from her general vicinity. Mandy basking in the knowledge of just how experimental the weapon apparently was… “I already love it!”

“R-right! B-but, just be aware that extreme stress to the weapon could cause it to… release a deadly back charge of fatal amperage…” A different brainiac warned, seeming to eye both Mandy and the bulky gun with clear distrust.

Mandy didn't wait for more nay-sayers to try and tell her how careful she should be! Simply pausing time once more and eagerly running back to the fence. She gingerly maneuvered the weapon as she slid back inside, then nearly sprinted to the nearest collection of ghouls and aimed from the hip!

Her finger slid into the unwieldy trigger guard, releasing time as she wanted to see this as it happen in the real; then, she depressed her finger, hearing a sudden burrrr of electronic distortion as the coil-gun kicked in her arms like a pissed-off mule! Her first shot punching into the nearest ghoul before she could even blink and blowing a hole the size of her damned fist through its stomach, a veritable plume of red mist exploding through the air! Guts, bones, meat and tendons were all sent backwards as shrapnel while the bullet rammed through body after body! Leaving a red trail of gore and viscera in its wake! Mandy let out an exited yip of glee as several ghouls staggered, one outright spinning around as it fell to reveal an exit hole that was… truly astonishing!

“Holy fuck! That one’s completely hollowed out!” She laughed, blinking at the utterly ruined body of a zombie that just sort of—fell, its spine not just missing but vaporized! “Oh, this is gonna get real gross…”

Freezing time, Mandy fired off the two remaining rounds, jumped into a nearby shadow Mandy and did the same again. She repeated the process with building glee and expectation, not bothering to aim for heads, no, she wanted brutality. And, every time she hit the arbitrary number she’d given herself, first twenty shots, then forty, then fifty and sixty, she couldn't help but wonder how much more devastating it would be if she just waited a little bit longer! When she was finally ready to see the fruits of her labour, she’d incrementally shifted her firing arc to try and hit as many ghouls as she could, in some cases, creating an outright crossfire that hadn't yet been realized.

When the foretold moment arrived, it was beautiful carnage… Bodyparts flew in all directions! Limbs, heads, pieces of torso! The airport erupted in a volcanic discharge of entrails and exploding bodies! The entire world, for what seemed like entire kilometres, just—bursting like some pustulant red boil! There was an overwhelmingly loud sound that could best be described as a wet splat. Mandy’s wide and sparkling eyes wondering if she’d ever created such an absolute mess that ever approached the utter gruesome abhorrence that she’d just created!

Then, some of the aforementioned—splat coated her, causing the young woman to jerk with surprise. The entire front side of her person—coated from head to toes… And of the ghouls? Well, there were a not inconsiderable amount of them crawling and scraping around… Some were hobbling around with massive chunks missing that weren't of a necessarily important variety. It was bloody abominable… the scene looking straight out of a genuine horror movie as ghouls, completely covered in the insides of their fellows and wounded beyond any reasonable ability for a human to operate, lumbered towards the nearest non-ghoul warm flesh they could find like a true legion of the damned…

She’d killed more than half, maybe even as much as two-thirds… but those left alive were… “Kind of genuinely creepy…” She muttered, head tilting to the side as she regarded the nightmarish army slowly creeping her way… They were even slower than usual, which, for some reason, made what she was looking at that much more chilling… And, maybe for the first time, she even got a semblance of what a more classic zombie apocalypse might look like…

The sound of wrenching caught her ear as Mandy looked back towards a number of people that had all approached the fence, several seeming to really see what had just happened and—promptly lost their appetites… “Y-yeah… Kinda feel the same way on this one…” Mandy quietly agreed, wincing while looking down at herself… More gore than person as she currently was…