>> Intel Retrieval Team

Dust blooms in gentle waves as we enter the dead apartment. Breathers rasping as things with brilliant red spots flee for the corners. The wrought-iron stairs a jagged, imploded, mess. The ceiling cracked and scarred with blood. Metal staircase swooping down. Sofa discarded where it fell, so long ago. Grey with dust.

Looks just like ours. But cleaner.

A dot targets our hidden data stash, and I slip over to the dead kitchen. Claw tapping along cupboards until I find the one we didn’t rig to explode. Slowly, I ease it open. Unhooking a thin wire from the door, before swinging it wide to extract the shielded container within.

I rip it open, and scan it quickly.

Still dead?

A glance up at Zipper. A nod. And I tip out the container.

Revealing the gleaming dataStick inside.

Half silver, half gleaming black. Etched with the leering face of Moon.

“Mate…. We’re taking, like, a serious risk here.” Zip whispers in the endless silence and death. Staring at the twisted skull laid out on the cheery tiled surface. Five, glaring, eye-sockets crawling with nameless... unthinkable.... darkness.

“It’s in our systems.” I breathe, in that hesitant instant.

“Yeah.” Zip says. His stare fixated. “But, y’know, like, I.... I mean…” He swallows. “Mate, I still get nightmares bout The Red Right Hand…. Like…. Do we really gotta-”

And I see it again, in a terrible flash.

RED. BURNING RED. INCANDESENT. GLORIOUS.

PURGE THE-

“Watch the room.” My hand shakes as I scan the dataStick again. This time, with the scanner Kami lent me.

“Right. Right.” He tears his eyes from the skull. “But, mate…. we still got options here. Y’know? We don’t gotta side with Moon-”

“We ain’t sidin’ with nobody.” I flick the dataStick back into its container. Hesitate. Then drop it out, and scan it again. “This is us fighting Moon.” I add, because Moon wants to hear it. “We get hold of this ‘Hand’ thing, we got options. It puts us level with the damn thing.”

And buys Pol time to delete the real threat.

“Right! Yeah! But, y’know, like.... first time we whip it out, people are gonna know we have it?”

“I know.”

“But, hey, we don't gotta play Moon's game!" He almost gushes in hope. "We got mad sellables here? Right? All kinds of old tek in this tower! I mean look!” He slaps a hand on the stove, which roars with rings of sudden light. Tiny metallic arms rising - ready to cook.

“Zipper. Monsters. In this room.”

“Right.” He shuts it off, with the sweep of a finger. Voice dipping to near silence - carried only by his comms. “But, I mean, c’mon! Pack it up, mate! Sell it!” He beams over his shoulder at me. “I mean, like, we’ve done it before! And, sure, we didn’t get much…. but….”

“But Wayman. The Pirates, too.” I shake my head. “And whatever freaks our The School is doling out to chase us.” Claws slip as I seal the dataStick in its container. “Sorry. Can’t risk sneakin’ into The Towers right now, Blue. Not the way we are. Not luggin’ a buncha big ole cookers that’ll sell for ten Blood a pop.”

“Yeah... mate, like I get it.... But Y'know.... ” He whispers. “Y'know there's gotta be another way. Right? I mean.... The Hand is in under the towers. Down in The Old City. Do we even know what’s down there?”

“That which slumbers in the dark. Dreaming of humanity.” Polybius whispers back, sending feverish shivers up my back.

But Zip doesn’t react. Like he never even heard.

Silence bores deep, and I stare up at him. "No." I murmur. And shiver. “Nothin’ good, at any rate.” The dataStick glimmers with deadly intent as I lift it, fingers quaking. “But that’s what we’re here for.”

To see if Moon left us any hints…..

“G-guess so….” He shivers. “But, mate. It’s creeping me out. Seeing that thing again. If you use it….” He swallows. “Like, if Moon gave us intel…. Why put it on that? Why not our implants? Y’know?” Another swallow. His head twisting. “Like…. ain’t it a little suspicious?”

“Yeah.” I mutter. Pushing past, in a whisk of tail. “It is.”

"Guess so, mate.... But. Like. Don't you think The Hand is..... Like, way too close? Like Moon planned this....?"

"Yeah." I mutter as we chase to the door.

The tiny dataStick hot in my hand.

You're both right, but we’re stuck in a corner here.” Our [Sniper] grumbles as we rejoin her in the hall. Her slick new pistols trained on both ends. Her voice too low to register, except on comms. “If we pool our SMG ammo, we’ve got enough for two out of three guns.” Her head shakes. “For one trip.”

“Four, if you count Badger.” I prompt.

She stops. “Spook. When have you ever given Badger ammo?”

“Once.” I cringe-shudder. “Never again.”

"Mate. Shit. Movement." Zip hisses, and we hurry for the lifts.

“Either way.” Kami adds on, as we slide back into their relative safety. “We get, maybe, one trip with the gear we got.” She drops her guns, as the doors clicks shut. Volume rising. “So whatever it is, we have GOT to make it count. If we don’t….” She lets out a shaky breath. “….we’re done here.”

“I get it mate.” Zip nods, as we start our coded tapping. “But, like, I ain’t talking about sneaking in ourselves. I ain’t that dumb. We got other weapons…. Right? Like, other ways of shifting tons of junk to the towers?”

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Kami hisses. “You can’t possibly be thinking of offloading The Night Tyrant in public…!”

I seize up. “The Precious!”

“Mate! Hey! C’mon! I mean my drones!”

“Oh thank bloody goodness.” I wheeze, slithering down the metal wall. “Stealth tek like that? In the main towers? I’d get an ‘unbeatable one-time offer’ the second I landed.”

“Oh yep.” Kami mimes shooting me. With artillery.

“Nah, mate. Nah.” He flickers a hand. “If we arm up all the drones I got, like, we can trade junk for materials. Then maybe pull some item bounties, or whatever. Right? Easy. Don't even gotta go out.”

“Sounds good. Can ya pull a drop tonight?” I ask, but he hesitates.

“Uh…. kinda.... no. Maybe in like, a week? Two weeks?” He rubs his neck - embarrassed.

“What? Two!? Two weeks!?” Kami shakes her head.

“Well. Carrier’s a bit, uh…. in bits, mate. A lotta bits. Y’know? I’m sorta putting it together, but-”

I groan. "We're actually worse off than I thought."

“Wait. No drones?" Kami’s metal-studded eyebrows rise. "So how are you assembling it?”

“Uh…. Slowly?” Zip tries as that cringe threatens to implode him. “I mean, well, the Carrier drones are sorta 'slaved' to it. But, like, I got a few toys on the side. Couple of jets. Not much, but, like.....”

I fend him off. “Too slow, Zip. Pressure’s on. Cooker’s off.”

“Har har, mate.” He rubs his neck again.

“We do this.” I state. “We got power. We got a shot at The Dead Mall, downstairs." I swallow. "It’s deep in, but there’s an entire 3D Printer Supplies shop. If it's still there.... if we can get to it....”

“Suicide, mate.” Zip cringes. “Like, we don’t got a lot of cameras…. but…. But, like, the ones we do….” Memory prickles my mind with huge, terrifyingly indistinct, shapes. Fallen hallways. Things seen only through ink and living grime. “It ain’t good in there. Y’know? Or the rec deck above.”

“Not.” I grin. “With The Left Hand. We could break through the ceiling, even.”

“Spook…. Like....”

A sharp breath. “No." I shake him off. "Polybius thinks Wayman have a soddin’ B-Team. And a C-Team. And, right now, they've gotta be tuning up to rip us apart." I pick at my tail, tip. Clutching it. Like every GMO's first blankie.... "Two weeks. Even if Wayman can't track us, I bet The School set off a lot more bounties than that. And agents of their own." My claws click, and twitch. Every GMO's first weapons. "We need an edge. We need Power. Power so vicious and vast, no monster of maniac will mess. Ever again….. Because if they do. All we've gotta do is....” I point a finger at the door. “Boom.”

I pause for a long instant.

“That would’ve been a great time for that to open.” Kami snorts. About twenty, full, seconds before it actually does - and we peer out through that crack once more. Hunting shadows in the shadows. In the darkness. In the cracked mirror, and the empty doorways. In that quiet, velvet-red nothing, drifting with dust.

And then we slip out. Padding toward that door, as my heart begins to panic. Clawing at my ribs. Desperate to get out.

Get out. Get out.

What if she’s there again? Waiting? Wafting....

Waiting for me. For us.....

A scuttle of soft things on velvet. My jagged ears snapping from point to point. Twisting this way and that. The torment of expectation building as we turn the corner.

Seeing the endzone.

Which is when the whisperers start.

I blink, and Zipper is facing the other way. Just like that. Fast as can be, A shock of wind on my face as his gun jumps at invisible targets. Seeking out lives to end.

He doesn’t even stop. Heels sliding, backward, across carpet as we close distance on our target. Our goal. Our safety.

If it's even that.

But something is coming.

“Ssshshshshssssss…..”

A hand slips to my belt. A flasher grenade snapping to my palm. Bulbs charging.

Step. And step. And step. And-

A meaty, hairy, arm slides from the dark hole of a doorway. Thick with muscle. Stretching too far. It grips the edge of the door. And another follows it. Another. Another. A crawling flood of fingers, of all different kinds. Men’s arms. Women. Human, and GMO. Swaying and twisting. Bending, like rubber. Like fronds underwater. Like things from a very bad dream.

“Child Eater.” I whisper, as it flows up the wall like some boneless and demented spider. Seemingly mouthless, yet eerily hungry. Vents in Zipper’s gun explode with flame as he fires. Loosing a roar of blazing streaks that pummel the thing back. I roll to the side, and unleash a quad-shot. Snapping flesh. Aiming for the thick web of heart-muscle driving its core. Kami above me unleashing a storm of 10mm slugs at full-auto speeds. Lower arms blurring to reload as the upper arms fire. Our wall of bullets tearing chunks from the monster.

Ripping off hands.

Mutilated arms lash like tentacles. Thin as they stretch. Fat as they compact. Bending and flailing in impossible ways as they clench their ruptured ends to cut off the flow of blood. The thing screaming, without mouths. Wailing, without lips. More limbs rising. Limbs with sucking holes and sniffing noses.

I slap the flasher to my belt to get it out of the way.

Then I slap Kami’s arm. And shove my SMG at Zipper. He grabs it, duel-wielding as I crick my neck.

Claws splaying.

"Mayhem time."

And then, as the nightmare rolls toward us, on arms that compact and stretch. Hurling itself-

I erupt from the floor in a blur of speed. Hit the wall. Hit the other wall. And then I slam down upon it with both feet. Claws pointed. Grabbing. Ripping. Slashing. Tearing. Gore splattering my visor. darkening my vision.

But I trained for this. For not being able to see.

I navigate on sound. Smell. And touch. Plunging my claws down, deep, into the mass. Hand and foot. Puncturing the flexible sack of pumping muscle at its heart. The thing's hiss rising to a scream as I tear off arms and hurl them at the walls. Punching my claws into the mass. Finding the tiny cluster of almost-brains, and squeezing.

The creature jerks. I scream.

And then I plunge in my other arm, to join my legs, and rip the damn thing in half. Shoving with all four limbs at once.

Dropping to the floor.

“Die.” I whisper.

And it obeys.

Slowly, I flick out my hands. Reaching up to wipe something long and jointed from my helmet. The stink of rocket-smoke billowing through the air. “Third one.... " An arm flops, and slithers, twisting itself into knotted stillness. The gore and goo the thing soaked into my skin.

And there's a part of me that enjoyed murdering it. Especially after Moon, and its vilenes.

To just cut free.

To destroy something evil, and tangible, and killable.... for the sheer joy of it.

To bring harsh light into bad places, and make the things in the dark afraid.

That's what I want to be.

We race back for the door. Heartrate never dipping for a second as we tap at the intercom. Bundling inside, all at once, and snapping the door behind.

"Mate. Dang, like that was badass." He coughs. "Also, you kinda stink."

“I really.” I say, very slowly, as the scanner does its thing. “Really, really, miss my sodding PAW.”

“Not as half much as you miss with the PAW.” Kami’s lip quirks, right by my eye.

“Shurrup.” I grumble, tiredly. “You only hit stuff cause your bullets are bigger than they are.”

“Still.” She shivers, as we bundle out. My whole body lost to shaking as I try not to lean on the wall. Or to touch things, generally. “I think that proves it....”

“Yeah. I know.” I look up at her. “We can’t wait. Even if nobody come for us. Even if Wayman, The School, an everyone else forgets we exist…..” I shake my head. “We’ll run out of ammo in a week or two, just living here. And claws can't kill everythin'.....”

But our flat is a dim light huddled at its evil heart. A glimmer of warm hope, and joy, and sometimes even peaceful sleep.

And my mini cheer squad.

“YAY!!! SPOOK’S BACK! SPOOK’S BACK!!” Badger cheers, waggling furiously and jumping about. “I KNEW YOU COULD DO IT!!”

Kami bomps him on the head. “And what are we? Monster guts?”

Badger sniffs. Then gags. “EWWW! YES!!!”

“Not as stinky as YOU!” She scoffs.

“Even so, I’m hitting the shower.” I snort. “With my armour on.”

“SsssPOOKIES!!!” Gremlin cheers - letting go of Tufty’s ear, with her teeth. “SPOOKIES SMELL TASTYssss!

“Seriously” Kami grumbles. “I’m not even good enough to get mauled first?”

“Hey, like, y’get used to it.” Zip smirks. “Spook used to be-” He hesitates. “-like, babysit em. And stuff. All the time.”

Kami frowns at him. “Really?”

“Oh, yeah, like - Grem used to be, like, super tiny. So Spook used to wear her like a hat. Right? It was hilarious.” He grins, sheepishly. “And Spook was like the world champ of dragging the rest of us about. Specially Badger. Tufty.” And Zip. Demon. The others….. A little party of chaos.....

Her eyes flip from me to him.

“Huh. Feels like you're missing a bit out.”

Zip fumbles both guns. "Hah, probably mate."

"Yeah. Life story and all that. Catch up later. Or whatever. I guess….” I mumble off backing into the bathroom, a little too quick. Leaving Kami to frown at the door. A second later, her personal Mute Zone flickers up over the living room, and I plunge into the shower. Water roaring at me from every direction, as I turn it up full blast.

Really hope he doesn't tell her…..

….he better not….

….he can’t…..

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