Derd and Rikor spoke on their comms for a few minutes. Once their conversation was over, the bastard lit the cig that’d been dangling from his mouth and moved to his left, rounding the pit of bodies.

I tapped the digital pad below my left wrist and selected the Black option. I watched as my Furtiven suit, which was already black, switch to a reflective like composition on the outside.

The active camouflage provided certain security I didn’t need earlier, as I wasn’t close enough to anyone, but activated now, meant I was hoping to keep close to the bastard at least by two meters, compared to the forty I’d been following him before.

The bastard went through a series of buildings which took me to the opposing side of the pit. He doubled back, ensuring he wasn’t followed, but I was too good at this to be seen.

This side of the pit, was more jaded, with nothing but sand to walk on compared to the other side, where the ground was semi-solid.

Rikor’s man followed the broken path like the back of his hand. He had no light whatsoever and made his way throughout frighteningly perfect. Unless he has cybernetic eyes I mused.

I rounded a corner and a buggy appeared in the distance. Oh no, you don’t I said to myself, increasing my pace, matching his footsteps, by two, ensuring he didn’t notice me, then planted my pistol at the back of his head. “One sudden move and it’s lights out.”

“Who are you?” he asked, trying to turn around, but I buried the suppressor of my pistol into his head, which stopped him. “I won’t warn you again.” I finished, clipping the safety off.

“Then what can I do?” he asked.

“Answer some questions”

“Such as…”

“Where’s Elhisia Weitson?” I snapped.

“I don’t know?” He answered with a dry laugh.

I bit my lip, quelling my frustration and buried my pistol into his skull again.

“Doing that won’t change anything. I don’t know where she is” He said, coldly. “Only Rikor knows…”

I do too…but I don’t want to rely on this tracker I thought, I want to get out of here…fast.

“Are the rioters here?” I asked.

Derd didn’t answer, he shrugged, and stomped my feet into the back of his knee, watching me drop to the ground like a fly. He tried to spin around, and kick me, but I skipped back pistol still trained on him, but the time he realised that he was still in my sights he eyed me with gaped eyes. “I know you.” He huffed, “you’re the bastard that killed menmoth!”

“Who?”

“My brother!” He snarled.

I stepped back keep my pistol trained on his head and watched as he snared at me ready to pounce at me at any given moment. It was like he didn’t register the pistol I had in my hands, which would be fatal to him.

“I don’t know any Menmoth,” I said.

“You killed my brother in the city at that auction”

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

“Why did you kill those two?”

“…because I was thinking of how I’d kill you myself!”

This isn’t getting anywhere I mused, feeling a bead of sweat trickle down my face. “Stop fucking around and answer my questions,” I snapped.

The bastard darted and me, teeth-gnashing as he did so. I squeezed the trigger of my pistol, burrowing the bullet into his brain and watched him sag on the ground like a potato. “Damn it! I wasted time and got no info!” I complained.

I walked up to the body, annoyed as ever and turned it over. I looked Herd or whatever his name was in the face and took note of his glumness.

Half of his face was laced in the sand with crimson fluid flowing from the hole in the centre of his head. The fierceness in his eyes was still there, but that was it…and now he’s dead.

Not having time, I left him there, then ran over to the buggy and began inspecting it. “Nothing special here,” I said, then began sweeping the buggy’s floor with my hand.

I felt a rounded edge behind the driver’s seat and slipped my two fingers on it pulling it free. It was a datapad. I tapped it and the screen wouldn’t come on. I’m getting off mission I thought.

I tucked the datapad into one of my micro bags and strapped it in, then I made my way back, stimulating my SMB to reactivate the tracker.

As I passed the piece of shit as he lay on the ground, something nudged my brain. So I pulled the datapad free, using his hands to initiate it and just like that the bastard’s datapad came alive.

Biometric Scan Needed, The pad read. Damn it!

I hoisted the dead asshole’s body up, placing his datapad on his lap, then picked back it up hovering it in front of his face. A green line pulsed awake then scanned up and down and up.

Once the scan was completed Retina Scan Confirmed dinged across the screen and a map outlay of the entirety of The Waste appeared on the screen.

A blue dot pulsed on the screen. Sector A7-439. I guess that’s where we’re located, I assumed. At the bottom of the screen was a red taskbar with another Sector coloured in white. ‘Sector A8-416’ It read.

I tapped the white button with the sector and line zigged and zagged across the Waste map, then stopped at the section designated Sector A8-416.

I snapped open my cybernetic arm, connecting the USB line directly to the pad’s own. I stimulated my map program through my SMB, filtering the information from one pad to my database. Sector A7-439…Sector A8-416

After ten minutes, everything materialised in my cybernetic eye, perfectly. Good. I’ll have to check this out…there has to be a reason why he’s leaving the camp alone. I thought.

Once I finished up, I tossed the bastard over my shoulder and began walking back toward to pit to dispose of the body. As I steered off into the pit filled with numerous melded carcasses, a thought came to me. Maybe this datapad has more information. I thought

I tossed Rikor’s man on the ground, then stimulated my SMB. A sombre snap echoed, my newly formed knife shot open. I sawed off the bastard’s left wrist, tossing it into one of my micro-bags after bandaging it up.

The bastard had black eyes, that had a glint that made them seem as though they were charcoal. and they were probably as dead as his soul was right now. I stimulated my SMB to switch from Night Vision to X-Ray and began my surgery.

I slipped the tip of my knife into the edges of his left eye socket, ensuring not to touch the eye itself. A subtle crack echoed once I rounded the corner as I broke his socket. I kept sawing though, till I heard another crack.

The bastard’s eye had dipped into his head thanks to how rough I was, but I wasn’t too bad so once I yanked it out all the sinew and matter splashed on Furtiven suit.

Now for the next one, I thought. In his right eye, I did a better job, only leaving part of the upper part of his socket damaged. I stuck my cybernetic hand in, then slowly pulled it out, then bagged that as well.

“I’m a walking mortician,” I said aloud, then picked the bastard up and tossed him into the pit with the rest of the bodies. I checked the time frame for when the negotiation was about to start and noticed I had just under two hours to find both lineagecube and Elhisia.

◆◆◆

I looked out into the distance from one of the surrounding buildings. It wasn’t a hard thing to do, but with the Campsite in view, confusion was the only emotion I could truly express upon seeing it

The centre of the old stadium had rows of tents with torches stitched in between, like a concentration camp. From the south straight to the east, equipment was outlayed as if they were here for the long hall.

On the south side of the Campsite twenty tankers, with hoses and pipes connected to Eight Water Tanks. The conduit pipes that were attached to them, led to a shell-like section, which no doubt was the shower area. Kidnappers with shower sets…poetic. I’m sure the Warden would love this set up I mused.