Tumbling thimbles. “Heat-seeking?” Shay asked, hoping The Killer’s scope or goggles were more than simple glass.
“I see them.”
“How many?”
After a pause. “We’re outnumbered.”
‘More than eight, then.’ Shay knew.
∞
Knowing now where Argus and Gargaransyr were - judging by where Panzjrah pointed his scope - that barrel responsible for who can tell how many massacres, Shay thought of returning to the tunnels. She could make way to her shop and hopefully, get her combat gear. Though with how the lineages swapped wantonly and wistfully or not at all, she could not be sure what would happen. Perhaps another Argus was still there stabbing upwards when she would pass the threshold, reaching for her other foot.
∞
“They’ve sealed the exits and entrances.” Panzjrah hunted. “Closest one to us is where the freak is, with what looks like his main lackey.” The Killer adjusted the scope on his rifle with one hand, the other taut on the trigger.
“Don’t let Gargarensyr get close.” Shay warned. “You saw the blood on his sleeves?”
“Noted. You get above, I’ll shoot from here and you make your getaway.” Panzjrah tossed Shay a crumpled piece of paper, without much interest in where it landed. “Found this next to words carved a wall, like it was planted for me to find.”
“Why would you give me this now?” Shay uncrumpled it, revealing the location-in-riddle of the ever-moving prison that was once a palace, where Lay’d Payn waits for all she has sought from the confines of her ancient cell.
The words read in dark red, as might old blood:
‘go back, and see it never left’
Shay suspected: was Panzjrah perhaps himself in Payn’s strange employ?
∞
“You’ve served your purpose. You being here has trapped the freak in here with me; for all his eyes he sees only one thing.” The Killer smirked down his scope. “I didn’t stick around after you threw that arachnid. Placed a few surprises.”
“What did you do?” Shay asked, equally wondering how she would get ‘above’ or what that even meant.
∞
Panzjrah seemed satisfied with whatever checks he had made. He raised his fist upwards to the roof and a wire shot out from his wrist or sleeve, planting itself stiffly somewhere in the unseen ceiling, still attached to him.
“Hold onto your teeth up there. It’s about to get interesting.”
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∞
"This one." Voices skittered from below, and the metal stairs nearby rang with slow, stomping steps. Panzjrah took out a metal square from his belt under his jacket, and with one flick the square became two, four and so on, until it resembled a long belt. Panzjrah handed it to Shay, attaching it to the wire from his wrist still reaching into the ceiling, wedging them magnetically together. Leaving his wrist and hand free.
Shay took a deep breath, clipping the belt around her waist. She felt the pressure of it trying to pull her up. “After I’m done with this, I drop it, correct?”
“Preferably not on me.” The Killer was impressed Shay knew what this gadget was, but did not let such weakness show.
“I’ll come back as soon as I can.” Shay readied herself. “I’m not running anymore from Argus.”
“Makes no difference to me.” Panjzrah immediately returned to his scope, aiming through the endless fog, apparently unconcerned with the steps slowly ringing louder with feet steadily thudding closer.
∞
Shay squeezed the belt and was zipped upwards through the air towards the ceiling, the sound likely giving her position away. She threw the thimbles from her fingers as she went, and their tumbling caused much confusion below, the workers bickering with each other.
“You throwing’t at me, again?” all of them accused each other of being mighty foolish in such serious moments. “Atop the leftward shrine!” Shay heard Argus call in reply to the falling thimbles. Panzjrah and the generator he aimed atop, disappeared from view into wrinkling clouds.
∞
She reached the ceiling and found what the wire had lodged itself in or wrapped around: steel beams high above supporting the roof. The true ceiling was still yet far above her, dripping with ink. At last Shay felt safer in shadows cast up here; until windows ahead glared with a sunrise and along those narrow beams she made her steady way. She missed her mask as her throat and lungs itched, trying not to cough or heave loudly against the dense chemical smell collecting up high.
∞
She slowly unwedged the metal squares of the belt, and threw them each as a rain down into the wheezing fog, sparkling against the sunlight as they fell. Explosions ruptured in the corners of the factory, and Panzjrah began his hail of laser fire. Black smoke and greyer fog soon boiled against one another. Without need to be quiet any longer, The Killer’s mad laughter began to accompany his shots cutting through the pit he had made. Aimless in his aim, the pit of screams, smoke and flame.
∞
The beam Shay was on shook with a quake, as another entrance or exit exploded shut with rubble below. Her foot bleeding through the bandage slipped and she threw out her arm to grab the beam, hanging there relieved for a moment before pulling herself back up. She saw below Panjzrah’s laser rounds were travelling far shorter distances, and one target he hit repeatedly with precision, appeared to be deflecting the shots.
‘The Ersectuor's helmet…’
∞
Ahead of her, arachnid workers rushed up from the foggy depths towards the same windows Shay was seeking. She wanted to remain hidden from them, as the sunlight showed their hairy desperation. Their many-eyes watched her with a frothing terror, opening the panes and making quick their own escape.