Chapter 7

There wasn’t much time to think about the absurdity of what I was doing. All I knew in that moment was having a gun seemed a hell of a lot more preferable to not having one or trying to use the knife.

Still, the weapon was in the center of the street, exposed. I shot a glance at Wife-beater guy as I moved. He was completely focused on Daphne now, a smug leer on his face.

“Thought you were better than me, didn’t you?” There was the sound of a foot striking flesh, hard, and Daphne groaned.

I picked up the gun, feeling the reassuring weight of the polymer in my hand. The prolonged cylinder of the silencer did little to alter the gun’s profile. I knew a Glock well. My father had trained me how to shoot with one. I scampered over to a nearby car, placing my back to the engine block and did a slide check to make sure a round was chambered. Popping the magazine out, I was relieved to see it had several rounds left before quickly smacking it back in – the number 8 instantly popped into my head. Weird, must be another effect from raising my Intelligence.

There was another thud, another groan.

My vision was blocked and I didn’t want to expose myself. I went prone to get a an angle from beneath the car and found a decent view from between the tires. The distance was fifteen feet, maybe less. Not far from the distances I’d shot at the pistol range. After endless practice I could manage a decent grouping, but that had been years ago.

Never aim at anything you’re not prepared to kill.

That had been his advice. The ageless adage my father had repeated like a mantra. I lined up the white beads of the sight, aiming at Wife-beater guy’s head.

Then, I froze.

What the hell was I thinking? This wasn’t me. I never resorted to violence. I talked my way out of my problems, found creative solutions. I’d thrown myself headlong into this looking for a distraction, and where had that got me? Into a situation far, far worse than anything I’d been running from in the first place.

Think.

Car tires squealed as a black Escalade pulled up at the cross street, unable to access the road we were on due to a barricade. At first I was relieved. They had to be other Users. They’d deal with this. Then the relief vanished as I realized that Wife-beater guy had seen it too and his creepy smile got even bigger.

No no no.

He dropped into a crouch, then looked down at Daphne. “I’d love to draw this out, but it looks like backup is here.”

I looked back at the Escalade. Three men were exiting, moving slowly up the road. One held a sword—where the hell did he get a sword—while the other two backed him up in formation. They weren’t going to make it in time.

But now, there was a problem. Silencers aren’t as whisper-quiet as they are in movies. Silenced gunshots are loud as hell. If I fired, they would hear me. Whoever they were, they were organized, and I was easy pickings at this point.

For some reason, all thoughts of retreating left me.

You’re going to do this. So do it right. Find the solution.

Frantically, I surveyed the street, the buildings, looking for anything I could use. A window AC unit high up caught my eye. Something about the way it was mounted looked crooked, unsafe. A thought started to form. When I’d used my ability on the SWAT officer, it hadn’t affected him directly. It had affected the object in his hands. Could I use it on an object directly?

I fell into a strange state of calm. There was a plan. Granted, there were so many things that could go wrong with it, but I always felt better once a plan was in place. I knew I couldn’t rely on Probability Spiral automatically guiding the AC window unit to land on my enemy like a cartoon. If I understood correctly, it just increased the chances of unlikely things happening in my favor. There was also a healthy dose of chaos thrown into the mix. Whatever happened, I had to be ready to take advantage of the situation. As long as there was a path, I could follow it through to the end.

I ignored my strange onset of resolve as Wife-beater guy wrapped his hands around Daphne’s throat. I ignored the way my pulse was pounding. Breath. In-and-out.

Slowly, focusing everything on the window unit, I activated the skill.

Probability Spiral

The first thing I noticed was that it wasn’t as hard to use anymore. I felt a little exertion, sure, but nothing like the first time. Maybe because the skill itself had leveled. The second thing I noticed was that everything seemed to move in slow-motion as the AC unit began to fall.

As the falling hunk of metal plunged from the sixth story window, I took aim, prone, holding my breath. I gripped the dagger in my left hand. Wife-beater guy’s vitals lit up, a heat map of red and yellow over his organs. Good info, but my target was lower. I quickly drew a bead on the illuminated yellow of his kneecap closest to me as he leaned over Daphne, still choking the life from her.

I pulled the trigger just as the AC unit impacted the pavement, the noises merging together.

Wife-beater guy shrieked and fell backward, clutching at the back of his thigh. I’d missed, but still hit the target. The men at the front of the street began to run. My hands, so still a moment ago, shook violently. My mouth was drier than it ever had been, tendrils of shock clinging at my mind, threatening to tighten. I didn’t know if I was going to start laughing hysterically or throw up.

The frenzied feeling of momentary victory only lasted the handful of seconds it took Daphne to roll on top of Wife-beater guy. Then it was replaced by shock as I watched her fist smash into his head, bouncing it against the pavement. He coughed, the sound a wet, half-gag. What was she doing? He was down!

Neutralize or terminate.

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“Guess what, asshole. I am better than you.” She growled. And then she kept hitting him, over and over, loud thuds slowly merging into something that resembled a wet slap. I didn’t want to look at what was left of him.

Fear coursed through me. Daphne had been normal when I’d known her. Kind. This was someone else. Someone willing to kill without hestitation. Was everyone insane?

A text screen punctuated by red, painfully bright text popped in front of my face.

<SYSTEM ALERT: YOU HAVE HARMED ANOTHER USER WITH AN UNAUTHORIZED WEAPON. THIS IS YOUR ONLY WARNING. THE NEXT OFFENSE WILL RESULT IN A BOUNTY>

Fuck. Couldn’t the system have just warned me when I picked the gun up in the first place? Well, that answered that question about this devolving into a shootout. There were more notifications.

<Level Up: Ordinator has reached Level 3. You may now pursue a vocation>

<SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: You have cleared a bounty. The reward is split between you and all other participants.>