Chapter Thirty-Six – The Survivalists Who Probably Won’t

Chapter Thirty-Six – The Survivalists Who Probably Won’t

“Life in a mega-city isn’t for everyone. There’s a constant hustle and bustle, millions of people crowding in around you, and you never know which one of them might want to harm you.

If you’re looking for a retreat to a better life, then check out Comtown-dot-com! Your one stop-shop to find the company town that’s right for you!”

–Comtown.com ad, 2047

***

I swore, or at least screamed something that might have been a swear. I wasn’t entirely coherent for a moment as I heard the rattle of gunfire and saw the asphalt around Gomorrah spark and crack with missed shots.

She stumbled, and I froze, expecting her to fall.

Then Gomorrah raised her flamethrower up above and ahead of her and pulled the trigger.

A massive burst of fire, spread wide like a flaming umbrella, burned the air above her and created a barrier between her and whomever was shooting down at her.

She ran faster, and I jumped to open the door. The fire stopped, but not before licking at the roof of the entrance.

“Shit, shit, are you okay?” I asked. “Myalis, I need shit for bullet wounds. Fuck, okay, sit down, sit down here, and it’ll be okay, we can fix this.” I pulled her to the side and started fretting over her, looking for the blood, for the wounds. I could fix this, just shove the wound full of magic healing goop. She’d be fine.

“Cat.”

“Oh, fuck, fuck. Okay, which one hurts more? Shit, we need to–”

Gomorrah poked me in the belly, then looked up to me with her expressionless mask. “Catherine.”

I paused, breathing still a bit ragged. “Yeah?”

“My equipment’s bulletproof. All of it. I wouldn’t go out to fight without decent armour on. Not like some people.”

“Oh,” I said. That explained the lack of holes in her gear. Though I did notice a few wrinkles in her habit, and some bronze smears on the metal bits of her pauldrons. Was that where she was struck? “Okay.”

“I appreciate the concern though,” she said. “But you can let go of me now.”

I let go of her, then grabbed my gun from where I’d dropped it next to the entrance. I couldn’t remember letting it go, but everything had happened so quickly that I wasn’t too surprised that I’d dropped it.

“So, that wasn’t an alien,” I said.

“Not unless they’ve started carrying fully automatic guns, no,” Gomorrah said. “That came from the right side of the factory, on the second floor, I think. I just saw a flash before I started to burn the air.”

“That was clever,” I said. “The fire, I mean.”

Gomorrah chuckled darkly. “I thought of the move as something of a deterrent against model ones. I suppose it works well enough against people shooting at me.”

I nodded, then moved back over to the door. My head was entirely invisible, so I wasn’t too worried when I poked out of the building and looked around. No sign of the shooter, but I didn’t have a good angle from the doorway. The fire that washed over the roof seemed to have burned itself out without catching the bricks or tin on fire. That was good.

“Okay,” I said. “We’re not dealing with aliens here. We’re dealing with armed people. Which might be worse. Should we call this one in?”

“There might still be a hive around,” Gomorrah said.

Sure, there might be a hive, but there was also at least one punk with a gun and poor eyesight. That, or he didn’t mind opening fire on someone who didn’t look anything like an antithesis. “I’m going to run ahead, check out the rest of the factory. Keep your coms open, I’ll shout if I meet anyone.”

“I don’t like staying idle,” Gomorrah said.

“You’re not exactly equipped for dealing with people,” I said. “Not unless you intend to cook them.”

“That… is a fair point.” Gomorrah swung her backpack off, then set her flamethrower down on the ground next to the entrance.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

She glanced up. “Buying something to deal with people. I can spare the points, and I can store it in the Fury once I’m done with it. In case something like this comes up again. What would you suggest, weapon-wise?”

I sighed. “Something that won’t burn people? You had that glue stuff in the sewers. That was non-lethal, right?”