Chapter Fifty-Nine – Cause Player

Chapter Fifty-Nine – Cause Player

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***

I snuck up to the next corner, back bent and body low until I was right up to the intersection. The buildings here were mostly homes. The sort of pre-built bungalow with a little picket-fence yard that a lot of people probably dreamed of retiring in.

It was just too bad that they were right on the edge of town. Well, maybe the owners had insurance. I didn’t know much about home ownership.

My ears did an alright job of painting a picture of what was going on around the corner, but that picture was… confusing.

Someone was fighting with a trio of aliens. Model Threes, the little dog-like ones with the spiney backs and mouths that were too big for comfort. The Model Threes were rushing at a man who sounded large and who moved with sharp, sudden bursts of speed to bring a heavy bar around.

The roar of a chainsaw didn’t leave much to the imagination as to what, exactly, he was using as a weapon.

I figured anyone murdering aliens in hand-to-hand was an ally.

I came around the corner and raised Whisper to take a shot, but before I could really get to aiming my new chainsaw buddy spun around, threw the corpse of one alien at another, then stabbed his saw into the third’s head.

Bits of antithesis splattered onto the ground, turned into so much chunky puree by the roaring blade.

The samurai was a tall dude, covered in plates of army-green armour that looked scuffed, and that left his biceps exposed.

He worked out.

Or maybe he cheated with the tech, but either way, the results were the same. His arms were as thick around as my head and looked like they were straining against his armour. The way his armour segmented over his chest gave the impression that he had abs too.

If I wasn’t gay, I’d think he looked pretty hot.

“Yo!” I called out.

The dude glanced my way, then completely ignored me as he walked over to the two alien bodies squirming a few meters away. One of them was still alive.

He dropped his chainsaw, and the weapon faded into motes before hitting the ground. A projection? Or maybe some sort of nano bullshittery? It was definitely some alien gear.

Reaching over his back, he closed his hand over empty air then pulled a shotgun from nowhere.

I wasn’t well-versed in guns, but even I recognized a double-barrel. His was cartoonishly large. He pumped it–why hadn’t he materialized it already loaded?–lowered the barrel to point it at the head of the last living Model Three, then fired.

I flinched back at the noise. I was used to gunshots. His shotgun was an order of magnitude louder than anything I’d ever fired.

It did the job though. I stepped to the side as a bit of Model Three rolled by.

The big guy shifted his shoulders, then turned to face me. “Sorry about that,” he rumbled.

I shrugged–realized he couldn’t see my shoulders–then spoke up. “It’s all good,” I said. “Came over to see how things were going.”

“So, you’re the backup?”

“I guess so? More like I’m the cavalry.”

He huffed, a sort of macho one-note laugh. “Right. Give me a moment.”

Turning, the big guy looked up just as a small drone zipped closer. It was a tiny golden thing, no bigger than a marble with a pair of little wings fluttering on the sides.

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The dude paused, then his shoulders slumped and he turned to me. “Okay, that’s done,” he said.

“You’re livestreaming?” I asked before I glanced around. We were standing pretty much in the centre of an intersection. The road past the samurai led off and out of town and into the woods surrounding Black Bear.

“Yeah, got to make a living, you know? I’m Cause Player.”