“… but it is all reliant on you. Can you do it?” I asked, my voice oddly cool to my own ears as I resisted the urge to shiver. Cold-Blooded was doing its work, and I could feel the creeping cool helping to keep me calm with every frigid heartbeat.
It wasn't that the Perk kept me calm per se. It was more so that all of my emotions felt muted, drowned out below a frozen ocean. Even my heartbeat felt dull, far slower than it should've been given the situation.
He looked up at the room's roof, eyeing the dark grooves. “Maybe… Wind Wave might be too weak… maybe Wind Slash?” Torren frowned. “Are you sure though? This will be one of my last spells if I cast it. Well, this and Transmute.”
Transmute? What was that? Doesn’t matter. “Yeah. Do it. Before our time runs out.”
“You got it, boss.” Torren once more closed his eyes, energy coalescing around him. Half a minute passed, in which I took the time to drag Feras as lightly as I could to the bathroom and hopefully out of range from rogue bullets. I also threw one of my last wraps of gauze around him to help hold everything together.
Just as I returned to the main room, Torren’s eyes flashed open with a green light. Immediately, an ethereal wind blew from nowhere, collecting on the big guy’s hand. Before I could even blink, the wind shifted, twisting into a long blade. That blade launched as he slung his hand forward, slicing up through the roof.
Wood creaked and groaned, shattering under the pressure of the Adept’s Wind Slash. The blade cut up cleanly, taking a massive chunk of the floor with it. The area immediately around the cut fell from the roof, leaving a gaping wound up onto the next floor.
”What's going on in there?! Final call! And no more messing around!” The gang leader called from outside.
”Now!” I whispered to Torren. The bruiser nodded, stepping below the hole and going entirely still with his hands cupped. Without giving myself any time to hesitate and trusting my newfound agility, I sprinted toward him.
I placed my foot onto his cupped hands, using them as a springboard to launch myself up. He assisted, pushing upward as my body catapulted up through the hole in the roof.
My tech jacket caught on a splinter of wood, tearing open a jagged slice into the fabric, but I otherwise slid through the hole with relative ease. I hit the ground, bleeding my momentum into a dead silent roll as I readjusted my grip on the SB-17.
This was my plan. I wasn’t a fighter, but I was a thief. When sneaking into somewhere, always approach from an off angle if not going through the front door. Applying that logic to combat made sense in my mind, but it was a gamble to leave the protection of the room below. Still, my heart stayed steady as I followed through with it.
Below me, I could hear the door open up followed by a roar from Torren. A wet squelch immediately followed, but I couldn’t afford to waste a minute wondering what was going on down there. I would just have to trust my team- err, trust Torren. Feras was still as useless as always.
I moved through the room, it being just as dusty as the last, and slowly popped the door open as I activated all of my Perks. I moved low as I exited the door and got out onto the second-floor balcony of the Mortas Motel. The balcony railing was made of thick wrought iron wall panels, granting me good cover while leaving room in between the gaps to peek out.
The darkness of the Motel, mixed with the haze liquid and my Perks, made it so Insight didn’t even hint at me being spotted as I took up a vantage point over the gonk gangers.
Most of them were still scattered about the parking lot, the AR-wielding three further out than the rest to take advantage of their longer reach. They looked super relaxed, almost as if this was a normal everyday thing for them.
Cold filled my mind as I raised my rifle and sighted it onto the furthest thug by the exit, the one who turned on the noise insulator. Slowly, my sights overlapped with the glowing skeleton tattoo over the guy’s face. My hand shook even through the effects of Cold-Blooded as I raised a finger to the trigger.
Was I really about to do this? Again? The trembling in my hand grew stronger, only fading as a slow beat of cold filled my brain. I allowed a moment to sink into the sensation. To give up worrying. To give up my hesitation. I had to be alive to feel guilt.
I once more lined up the shot.
And then I pulled.
A scattering of bullets fired from my rifle, the kick jerking my aim way off as my unprepared muscles failed to properly control the recoil past the first couple shots. I didn’t even check the results of my burst as I dropped to the floor in preparation for retaliation.
None came.
Instead, I heard a massively delayed call from the leader, “Ambush! Ambush! Take cover!”
Below me, I heard a loud thunk as the balcony’s floor tremored. I mean, I knew Torren was big, but to cause such a tremor-
I spotted a red mess of flesh launch from below me through a gap in the wrought iron railing. The mass flew into the parking lot, splattering blood everywhere as it skidded across the ground. Several splotches of blood flew off and hit a ghost ganger, dying her white costume red. She screamed and sprayed with her SMG towards where the meat projectile came from. As it rolled to a stop, I saw it was a head covered in blood.
“You good?” I quietly asked into the squad channel.
“Never better,” Torren said, his voice sounding mostly the same and yet ever so slightly… off.
Cool rationale flooded me as I realized I had been foolishly just sitting in one place after the first burst. I slunk back into the shadows of the balcony, moving out of sight from the gang as I started to crawl along the length of the balcony. Once I was far enough away, I pushed myself up with my rifle at the ready.
Another tremor shook the balcony as the sound of something being torn apart came across the comm line. I didn’t hesitate to use it as a distraction to fully peek over the railing, my rifle aimed towards the first AR-wielder I spotted who operated the jammer. He had ducked behind a car in the parking lot. It would've been good cover, but I had the high-ground advantage.
I opened fire, this time managing to control my burst better as the rifle bucked in my hands. Ten shots ran out, at least three of them hitting the man before a stinging pang of Insight hit me. I ducked out of the way immediately, almost dropping my rifle in haste.
Unfortunately, it was too slow as a bullet grazed my shoulder, cauterizing a burning path across my skin as it blew a hole through my clothes. I hit the ground hard as the bullet slammed into the wall, sticking halfway out of it. An AR round. The last guy might have some kind of chrome eyes to track me better?
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
“There’s a rat on the second floor!” The gang leader called out, his voice trembling with rage. “What are you fools doing? Shoot, you dumbasses!”
A spray of bullets whizzed over my head, sending sharp shards of concrete everywhere as they drilled into the wall. The pangs of cold throughout my entire body kept me grounded as I crawled along the wall, ducking under my jacket to get away from the shards hitting me.
”Good, Zuku?” Torren called through our line.
”Pinned, but mostly uninjured. H-“ I threw myself flat as Insight sliced through my back. The second my chest hit the hard floor, a stray SMG round flew through a gap in the barrier close enough to cause my clothes to ripple with the force of the projectile. I scampered in the opposite direction, but it must've been just a lucky shot since nothing else came close. “You?”
A loud, blood-curdling scream came from the bruiser’s direction. The scream sounded even louder through our commlink. A wet crack resounded through the link’s connection before Torren started to speak again. “Great. The melee duds are done. Am I clear to head out?”
I crawled forward more, taking a risk to glance out through a gap in the balcony. The first two AR gonks were dead, their bodies oozing blood onto the pavement. The last one had moved, blending in with the rest of the costume-wearing idiots behind the occasional parked car or support pillars. “One left. Can you hold?”
”For now.” Torren went silent. A moment later, another ball of meat grotesquely curled in on itself launched from below the balcony. This one was aimed, flying with enough force to knock over two of the gonks with SMGs. One of the gonks outright lost a limb with the force of the impact, instantly going unconscious as he rapidly bled out.
“What the hell are you using?” I asked as I slid along the wall further. Once I was far enough out to be away from the majority of the spray, I started to scan the survivors for signs of the AR.
Torren chuckled, the laughter sounding entirely bloodthirsty. If I wasn’t already near frozen over, it would’ve sent a chill down my spine. “Pure muscle, princess. Pure muscle.”
Before I could reply, I spotted the final target. I shot up, tracking my rifle to him. Maybe because of the hazy liquid’s effects? Or maybe Stalk? Regardless, I had a few moments before anyone realized I was there. In the few moments it took to get focused on him and get my rifle aligned properly, he spotted me too. His feral, red eyes went wide as his werewolf costume trembled. He was the only one to spot me as the chrome in his eyes locked fully onto me.
His shout drew the attention of a the rest of the gangers as he tried to get a warning out.
But it was too late.
I squeezed the trigger, immediately feeling a chill of Insight as he slowly pointed his rifle toward me. Another tingle hit me in the chest from a ganger with a quick reaction time. I forced myself to calm down as my mind tracked the trajectories of Insight. The AR would wing my side and the other would hit a little off-center of my chest. Without any hesitation, I made a decision. Instead of pulling off the attack to get cover, I went all in, firing off the rest of my mag toward the goon and trying to twist out of the way.
“Argh!” Just as the mag clicked empty, two bullets caught me in the chest, hitting with enough force to stagger me back. Another winged my side, tearing a gash through my clothes. I groaned as my chest ate the entirety of the impact, my stolen ballistic armor barely doing its job to stop the bullets before they got through. And yet that meant all of the impact was absorbed by my chest. I dropped to the floor, the breath knocked out of my lungs as the flesh wound burned on my side.
”Zuku? You still alive?”
It took a few moments to breathe once again as I put pressure on my side, but as soon as I did, I called out to Torren. “Hah, all three, hah, down.” I took a gulp of air as I felt the coolness of my blood flowing through my body once more. Not even the rushing heat of adrenaline could shake it off. “Just SMGs and the leader.”
“Nova,” Torren called. A moment later, a massive form sprinted free from our original room. A rogue light caught on his face, revealing similar features to Torren, and yet his entire body was built with muscle instead of fat. He had so much muscle, in fact, that the ground literally vibrated with every forceful impact of his feet like he was some kind of 'borg.
His clothes looked exceptionally baggy as they barely clung to his frame. With the first several steps, his muscular foot tore through his shoes as though they were paper, leaving the guy to run barefoot.
The guy, Torren’s look alike, immediately cleared the distance between the first closest ganger, stretching out an arm to catch the surprised gonk’s barrel as bullets sprayed from it a moment later. The person redirected the barrel, using the fire to kill one other ganger as he wrapped a meaty paw around the first one’s neck and jerked. His muscles contracted and the head popped off like it wasn’t even attached in a fountain of blood.
”T-Torren? What’s going on?” I shifted onto my knees, pushing strength through my body as I slid up into a crouch. My side leaked more, but I could patch it up later. Now wasn't the time.
The muscle-bound maniac paused, the hesitation long enough for the rest of the poser gang to react as they lit him up. The bullets whizzed past the man, somehow seeming to warp around him. I flared Aetherial Perception briefly, spotting a familiar green shield around the guy pulsing with each projectile. Torren sighed. “Kind of busy.”
Torren threw the head like it was a baseball, smacking another ganger in the face. The guy fell back, his body twisting with the remnant force as his head snapped in the wrong direction.
The shock of seeing Torren look… entirely different wore off under the onslaught of Cold-Blooded, returning me to that mental calm. I took stock of the situation, looking around the battlefield as I planned my next course of action.
There were only five gangers still standing, including the leader. All of their attention was on the massive muscles of Torren as he lunged towards another, leaving me completely free to move.
I popped up from my crouch, staying low as I sprinted to the other side of the balcony before leaning over it. I lined up my rifle once more, aiming at the furthest gonk from Torren. He stood behind a car, using it as a brace to unleash hell on my ally. Not that it would help him. I opened fire.
My rifle clicked.
I immediately ducked back down behind cover as I fumbled for a spare magazine.
The leader of the gangers let out a furious shot. “How dare you! Fight someone your own size, coward!”
Says the guy that brought fifteen versus three- two… I peeked over the balcony rail as I slid the magazine into position, spotting the leader slashing viciously toward Torren with his glowing blade as the rest of the gangers futilely tried to light the big guy up.
Torren reacted quickly, thrusting his latest victim up as a shield. The burning blade easily sliced through the unfortunate costumed freak, tearing through his body like tofu. The blade slowed as it passed, coming out of the now corpse with barely enough force to burn a patch of Torren’s hair as he dodged out of the way.
My hand trembled as I slid back the charging handle, chambering a round into the rifle and prepping it once more. Then, I aimed down the sights towards one of the gangers. Unleashing a load of rounds blasted my shoulder back as the recoil once more got the better of me, sending over half my mag awry. Only one round needed to connect though, and it did. The ganger hit the ground with a startled cry.
“Help!” Torren called through our channel as he threw himself into a dive.
I shifted tracks, aiming at the leader as I pulled the trigger. The rifle thudded in my hands, most of my rounds flying true as they hit the leader. And then bounced off. Or at least most of them did. Those not redirected by his subdermal armor were caught in the folds of the chrome, burning patches in the synth skin that once covered it.
“Someone shoot the rat!” The vampire called as he swung his sword off in my direction.
That was all the distraction Torren needed he grabbed one of the rifles and batted it at the man. For his part, the leader reacted quickly as he brought the sword up to block. It did nothing to stop the force of Torren’s hit though.
Torren’s borrowed rifle hit the flat of the blade, splintering it as he let out a squeal of pain. The fragmented blade parts peppered the leader and the bruiser, almost as if in preparation for what was to come. Then Torren’s fist connected with the leader’s chest, throwing the guy backward. His subdermal armor saved him from any visual damage, but the spray of blood from his mouth suggested some internal damage.
The leader dropped what was left of his blade, trying to grapple the big guy as I reloaded once more and lit up one of the last remaining gangers, instantly killing her as she desperately tried to reload. The kills left a bitter taste in my mouth, but the frigid blood coursing through my body did a good enough job of obscuring it.
Where was the other- a scream came from below, back down at our original room. Feras. I didn’t hesitate as I threw myself over the balcony railing, hitting the pavement as I twisted into a roll, sending pains through my bruised and bleeding chest. The flesh wounds from the previous bullet burned as pressure was put on them, but thankfully didn’t worsen as I sprinted for the motel room.