Chapter Sixty-One – Mimics
byChapter Sixty-One – Mimics
“You shouldn’t believe just anyone’s claims that they’re a samurai. It is surprisingly easy to fake it.
One notable story is that of Snapdragon, the alias of a young man who obtained some basic body armour and some cosplaying supplies, then created a samurai persona for himself. This isn’t entirely uncommon, and there are events and groups that ‘play’ at being samurai. Snapdragon took it one step further by patrolling the streets and even participating in the periphery of some incursions.
He was discovered to be faking it when a group of Antithesis overran the position he was guarding and he was unable to procure more weapons or ammunition as samurai so often do.
Seventy-eight civilians died.
Be wary of false claimants, and don’t be afraid to ask for proof. Most samurai will provide some evidence of authenticity if asked.”
–Extract from ‘A Concerned Citizen’ series of pamphlets distributed in 2035
***
Targets Eliminated!
Reward… 25 Points
I panted for a bit, heart beating away in my chest as if I’d just spent twenty quality minutes with Lucy instead of just lightly jogging around. A ten-second fight with an alien did that, I supposed.
“Shit,” I said for a lack of any better response.
I walked to the side a bit, then moved back towards the dead alien. The Model Nine looked like someone had dropped a potted plant on the street.
“Shit,” I repeated.
You’re distressed. More so that I’d expect from you after an ambush.
I shook my head. “I’m fine,” I said. “Just… it spooked me is all.”
I glanced at the real reason I wasn’t feeling all that great. The minivan was just a few dozen meters away. The water pouring from the busted hydrant was slowing down, and over that I could just make out the car’s engine still rumbling away.
“Shit.” Third time now.
I bent over and scooped Whisper up as I started towards the van. A quick look over the crossbow didn’t reveal anything obviously wrong with it. Maybe a nick in the paint? Nothing terrible.
I set the crossbow against my shoulder and started moving closer to the minivan, looking around for more trouble. Any bushes that gave me a weird look were going to get shot.
The van’s doors were all closed, but the passenger side window was broken.
I held my breath then looked in.
Four bodies.
I didn’t stare for all that long, but it was enough to know that none of them were alive. The Model Nine had hit me like a demented blender, all claws and striking limbs. I couldn’t imagine fighting it stuck inside an enclosed space without any fancy gear. I didn’t need to imagine the results of fighting in close quarters.
Felt a little sick, honestly. “Myalis, let’s move on,” I said. “Where’s the next group of civilians?”
One block north, to the left at the next intersection. A group is moving on foot.
I nodded and started jogging over. There was no way people on foot could do anything against another Model Nine, not if one of them could wreck a car. Well, not wreck a car but… whatever.
I’ve found three Model Nine’s in your vicinity.
My boots scrapped the ground as I stopped and started looking around, Whisper already tucked into my shoulder. “Where?’
Pardon me, English is an imprecise language. By vicinity I mean within two to three hundred meters of your current location. I have been observing the area and noting any visual artefacts caught on camera. Comparing the before-and-after images occasionally reveals new objects that are likely Model Nines.
“Anything I can shoot?” I asked. I was getting into a shooty mood.
Nothing in your line of sight. The civilians are approaching one of them. It is currently disguised as a standing mailbox.
I didn’t even take time to swear, I just took off running.
Grabbing Whisper’s strap, I flung it over my shoulder, then tugged my Icarus from under my coat. The crossbow was a weapon designed to take out targets from afar, sure, but it was a precision weapon. The grenade launcher had a whole other sort of precision to it.
“High explosive,” I said as I tucked the launcher against my shoulder.
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