Chapter Seventy-Five – Triggering, But the Fun Sort Where Things Explode

Chapter Seventy-Five – Triggering, But the Fun Sort Where Things Explode

“People go on and on about what can turn a lady on. Nice men, nicer women, fat stacks of cash. Power.

A lady likes explosives.”

–Salamander Storm, 2041

***

I wasn’t an endurance runner. Or any other sort of runner.

I was more of a ‘sit with Lucy on my lap’ kind of girl.

My breaths came hot and fast, my heart beat all crooked, as my thighs and calves burned. Still, I didn’t have the option to stop and catch a breather.

“My-Myalis, ammo,” I huffed, my Icarus raised in one hand. A magazine appeared before me and I caught it out of the air and slapped it into place.

I barely aimed as I ran sideways for a bit and held the trigger down. Most of the aliens behind me were Model Threes, but there were others, Model Tens riding along, and farther back–but catching up–were Model Thirteens.

I’d be swarmed soon.

I needed a moment to think and act. “Garrote!” I caught the grenade, jammed my thumb over its trigger, then flicked it behind me underhand.

That wouldn’t do jack to stop them, but it might mulch a couple before they caught up to me.

I needed something bigger, that didn’t explode. “Gas!” I said. “Acid.”

Another grenade, this one a canister. I flipped the top off and dropped it by my feet a second before it started to hiss and spit. A glance behind me showed that the gas was expanding and climbing to the ceiling. It would mess with the Model Thirteen then.

I was pretty sure it wouldn’t kill it, but maybe injuring it would be enough. The others might live too, but every bit of damage was good in my book.

I spun around a corner, the same one where Gomorrah and I had encountered the first aliens in this mine. And right there, like some sort of angel, was the woman in question.

“Go left,” she said, her head nodding to her left.

I ran past her, then sighed as I felt a powerful wash of warmth at my back.

My run slowed down, and I veered off towards the wall. Slumping against it while I sucked in air. My railgun and plasma caster were both out of ammo. My Claw and Trench Maker too, though those hadn’t been terribly useful. All I did was take potshots at the aliens. My Icarus had… six HE rounds left.

I wondered if I had time to reload. At least, until I looked over and saw the wall of fire ahead of Gomorrah. It was bright and thick enough that the only things making it through were the half-melted remains of some of the faster models, their momentum enough to carry them past the fire.

My mecha cats were stationed around Gomorrah, one on each side while the third came over and stood near me. “Thanks,” I said as soon as I turned on our comms.

“No problem,” Gomorrah replied. “That Model Thirteen that came this way was something.”

“Nasty, huh?” I asked.

“It kept avoiding my fire. Your cats ended up doing a lot of the damage. I need to invest in faster-firing weapons.”

“Yeah, cool,” I said. “Can you cover me for two minutes, I need to reload everything.”

Gomorrah nodded. I trusted her to keep me alive for a couple of minutes. “Myalis, I need a reload on everything.”

I raised my Icarus, switched to HE, and fired the last shots remaining down the tunnel the aliens had followed me from. Figured I might hit one of them if I was lucky.

Reloading my shoulder-mounted guns was a bit of a pain. The rest wasn’t too bad. Myalis was giving everything to me one at a time, so I was moving at my own pace, more or less.

“I think we’re clear,” Gomorrah said. She lowered her flamethrower and let the wall of fire die down a little. If I squinted, I could make out the darkened forms of burning aliens slumped over here and there.

There weren’t as many as I imagined, but maybe I hadn’t had a good look at them.

“Good work,” I said as I slid the last magazine into my Claw, then tucked it away. “That was stressful.”

I’d need a good shower after this. My coat might have been cool, but it was still warm, and all the fire and running for my life didn’t help.

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“Did you find the hive?” she asked.

“Yeah. Nasty place. A hundred or so more models over there. I don’t know if they’ll stay put or not.”

Gomorrah nodded. “I’d like to see the footage later.”

“Uh, sure,” I said. My cybernetic eye had probably recorded all of that. I bet Myalis had, at the very least. “There’s a tunnel past the hive that I didn’t get to inspect, otherwise, I think I covered it all.”

“Did you plant any bombs?”