Chapter Sixty-Three – People are Stupid

Chapter Sixty-Three – People are Stupid

“With the advent of corporate police forces and national and international PMCs, there has been a sharp rise in the number of people willing and able to fight crime for the right amount of money.

Crime, it seems, is a constant among humanity. Especially in a world where the meaning of law is so vague and weak.”

–Excerpt from ‘The Lawless’ by an anonymous author. 2054

***

I was expecting a few things when I returned to the shelter.

I was hoping for certain things too.

Arriving to find all the civilians waiting calmly inside a row of trucks ready to go, with maybe a few volunteers guarding the entire lot would have been nice.

Instead I arrived to find a half-circle of scared people all staring at a spectacle that had shivers crawling down my spine. There were some men standing around, all of them armed with guns that I found all too familiar.

One of them, the biggest in the entire lot, was standing before the crowd. On one side, Monroe was on his knees, hands held behind his back by some dipshit.

“The Samurai’s gone! If you want to become pawns of these corporate fucks, then that’s on you. But me and mine, we’re making a stand. We’re going to take those aliens on!”

I stared, dumbfounded, as some of them actually cheered him on.

“I don’t suppose this was part of any plan?” Gomorrah asked.

“No, no it wasn’t. I told them to get ready to evacuate, not this shit.” I stomped out across the street, vaguely aware that Gomorrah was sticking close behind me.

The big dipshit paused mid-way through his speech as the crowd’s attention turned away from him and moved towards me.

“Dumbass! Come here,” I shouted.

The man looked around. “You want to talk, Samurai?” he demanded. “I’ll have you know that wh–”

“You, shut the fuck up,” I said.

Dumbass Two appeared out of the shadows of one of the nearby trucks, its holographic camo winking out as it moved.

“Dumbass, you see what happened?” I asked.

Reviewing the footage now. It seems as if a group of men, most of whom have criminal records and affiliations to a local gang, decided to take over the evacuation operation. Sargent Monroe protested. A small fight broke out and his squad was detained.

I nodded, then my gaze turned towards Speedy. The woman’s helmet was off, and her face was a mess of blood and missing teeth.

Private Samantha ‘Speedy’ tried to stand up to the leader of this group. He decided to make an example of her.

“If you think we’ll stand aside just because you’re some hot shot–” the big dipshit continued. His grip on his plasma rifle… my plasma rifle, tightened.

I slid Whisper over my shoulder. “I can see why you did what you did,” I said. My voice sounded surprisingly cold. I think it gave the man pause.

Reaching into my coat, I pulled out my Trench Maker and brought the gun up and around to point at him. “If you shoot me, my boys will–”

“You did it because you’re a fucking idiot,” I said. And then I shot him.

He stumbled back, the rifle clattering to the ground. The screaming started right after as he clutched onto the burning stump of his forearm, waving it around to try and put out the flames crawling up his pleather jacket.

That was a surprisingly nice shot.

“I was aiming for his head,” I muttered.

Someone screamed and started running at me with a machete of all things. He made it three steps before Gomorrah aimed an arm at him and turned him into a screaming ball of flailing fire.

The entire crowd shrank back as the man stopped, dropped and died in the middle of the street.

“No chill, huh?” I asked Gomorrah.

“Was that a pun?” the nun asked. Her emotionless mask somehow managed to convey disgust at the idea. “Regardless. We don’t lose points for killing people trying to harm us.”

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“Kill her!” the dipshit in charge said.

Shutting down weaponry.