“On the other side of the room.”
“Fuckin’ great,” Magellan growled and aimed his cannon at one of the mutant beasts.
Chapter Fourteen
He perched on a ledge to the far right of the hangar. The dome wasn’t as accommodating as some of the other squats he had stayed in. There weren’t many ways to traverse the building—a few catwalks and a half-finished upper level. The few system ducts there were too small for him to crawl through, something he had noticed more and more throughout his misadventures. For a moment, he wondered if it was his gear or his girth. He slid a hand down the smooth path of his chest and stomach and snapped his teeth a couple of times before he opened them in a toothsome smile.
Nah, he was fine. You had to keep lean when your sport of choice could be so adaptable.
He watched as the party began to walk slowly around the edges of the hangar and kept a watchful eye on the shriekers. The door they had entered through wouldn’t hold for long. It might have been made of sturdy stuff, but naga venom would eventually melt through it all the same—that is if they didn’t simply sink their teeth into the metal and rip it from its frame. The nagas were tenacious and watching them hunt the shriekers and other mutants that had found refuge in the dome over the last couple of days had been a delight. He admired the way they coiled around their prey or attacked with quick, nearly silent bites. For such large creatures, they could be incredibly stealthy, just as they could be incredibly fearsome. The first time he saw one unhinge its jaw and swallow a whole echibara in one quick snap had been glorious.
They seemed to eat much more than their unmutated counterparts. The mutants always seemed to buck nature’s role for them—or perhaps their previous role. They weren’t quite right in the head, those freaks.
He took a moment to ponder whether he was a mutant and conceded that he hadn’t run across too many others like him. Maybe a handful—six or seven—but the times that he had were certainly memorable. Their fill of lager and meat, chicks for a good time, moderate slaughter—these were almost mini-vacations from his personal journey, times when he didn’t feel the need to kill, merely the desire.
Ah, dear Magellan. He focused on the bounty hunter. It was often said that a rivalry could feel like a warped friendship at some point and he’d begun to believe that a few months before. Magellan was the only constant in his life. They had conversations, and they met up at regular intervals and discussed the finer points of their respective careers. True, this was usually when he tried to rip the bounty hunter’s throat out while Magellan attempted to blast holes in him. He’d succeeded at least a couple times, he conceded as he traced his bionic leg with his bionic arm, but it was all a part of the spirit of their little meet-ups.
He cast his doubts from his mind. He wasn’t a mutant, merely spirited, unlike those bastards in the Star Killers. The generic name for a merc company should have been sufficient warning, but the Red Suns didn’t align with his interests and the Omega Horde wasn’t interested—which was ironic considering they had been the reason for his old company’s downfall. No, it wasn’t fair to put all the blame on them. The SK’s weakness—that pitiful, infuriating weakness—was in their blood. That was why he had to get it out of them, even the ones who weren’t there. It was obviously inherent, perhaps something in the bottled water they drank. He reminded himself that it was a good thing he never partook of the stuff.
Or was it partaked? Was that even a word? Partook—that sounded right. God, he was bored.
He looked at the gang once more as the youngblood, Kaiden, inched his way to the hallway door. Gin focused on the doors where cracks and melted surfaces appeared. What exactly was his plan here? Did he have one? Was he hoping the nagas would kill him faster than the shriekers? You have a gun, kid. If you want a quick way out, you should go with that.
Maybe he was broken. He could feel energy drain from him at the thought of one less person to play with, but the apathy left him quickly and was replaced by nonchalance. He didn’t like playing with broken toys, and as upsetting as it was to see one that looked so shiny and promising fall apart like this, it meant he could focus on Magellan again.
Or, at least, that’s what he wanted to think. The new kid had shown promise. It wasn’t like him to be wrong about something like that, and he didn’t hand out gold stars on a whim. The last time he’d had a gut feeling like this was with Magellan and that officer on the Mars colony. He’d cut his arm off and left him to die as he cursed Gin’s name…man, that one had fire. Soon after, he’d seen a news report that he had lived and instead of getting a regrown arm, he’d slapped a robotic arm in its place that transformed into a chain gun. That sounded like fun.
He really needed to pay him a visit again when he was done with his work here.
Two shriekers climbed along a grate above Kaiden. The boy saw them but didn’t flinch or aim at them. Instead, he held something up in his hand as if beckoning them. This was new.
One of the shriekers froze and another tilted its head, plainly curious. It leapt off the grate and crawled to the boy. Kaiden gave it whatever was in his hand. It sniffed at it and tried to bite into it. Was it bait of some kind? The interaction was enough to persuade the other shrieker to climb down, and a few others above Magellan and the other merc watched the activity. Kaiden offered the second shrieker a piece of the food or bait and finally lured more to him.
He placed the last pieces of the lure on the ground and backed slowly toward his companions. The shriekers seemed oblivious to the scaled death that currently melted and bashed their way into the hangar. The plan finally clicked for Gin, and he smiled. Clever boys. If it worked, it looked like he would have an opportunity to play.
Magellan was held near and dear already. Kaiden was still a wild card, but he had to give him his due, even though he would have been dead already if it weren’t for that flashbang—was that an EI? One that could be seen without a link, obviously. He didn’t remember hacking into the boy’s systems, an oversight on his part. Still, it was a rather interesting piece of tech, and he made a note to see if he could scavenge it from the kid when he was done with him.
As for the last contestant, he hadn’t quite made up his mind. The man seemed to have better survival instinct than the two he’d killed back in the observatory. He’d overheard him saying he wanted to avenge them, so Gin supposed they were his friends—or partners, at the very least. Maybe they were lackeys of his, and it was a bout of fool’s pride. He looked stocky and well-built, a man who could take a beating. At least he would provide some challenge and perhaps even a thrill, but he would be the appetizer, the warm-up to the other two.
He activated his cloaking tech, leapt from the ledge to the top of a stack of crates, climbed down quickly, and sprinted to a dangling crane in the middle of the room. It was an easy task to climb up and balance the middle of his left foot on the point of the hook. It provided the perfect place from which to watch the gambit play out.
Sure enough, the door gave with a crash, and the small group of shriekers that had gathered nearby jumped in surprise. They growled and snapped their teeth as two of the nagas immediately surged into the room. One sank its fangs into the chest of one of the mutant monkeys. Two tried to pry it off as the other serpent launched a glob of toxin at the gathered group. As they moved out of the way, the remaining shriekers joined their brethren to attack the two nagas as six more appeared behind them. A clash between the two mutant species erupted in a chorus of furious hissing and demented shrieks.
The group used this opportunity to run behind and weave between the crates and tools around the hangar. Gin smiled and wondered which one of them had the idea. It spared them more battle, and there was now a good chance the mutants would be too busy to pursue them once again.
Now it was his turn.
The three ran beneath him, and Gin stood as motionless as possible. Without the proper equipment, they shouldn’t be able to see him, but they were supposedly experienced mercenaries.
An abandoned crane swinging in a room with no breeze would look suspicious, and maybe one of them was superstitious? Either way, the big one looked like he had an itchy trigger finger and it would be rather embarrassing for him to be discovered because of his own mistakes.
He looked at his hand. It was transparent, almost completely clear, and a slight haze was all that was visible. With a long energy span, no notable dip when moving, and no noticeable emissions, this generator was fantastic. When he’d heard about it at the Tokio Station, he knew he had to have it. It wasn’t as hard to get an experimental piece as one would think, at least not there. A station focusing on scientific pursuits screened all their employees and all their onboard passengers. He made his way in on a distressed shuttle—one he had in fact distressed. The plan was simply to restock when they brought him in, but he’d found an even worthier catch. Things sometimes worked so beautifully in the great abyss.
What was he doing again?
Someone shouted above the rush of air as a door opened. Magellan hustled his two partners through the doors on the other side of the hangar. He waited for the bounty hunter to close them before he followed but as he turned, he could have sworn he saw the man’s eyes narrow in his direction before he pressed the button to slide the doors shut. That Magellan…it was almost impossible for him to see him in this state, but he wouldn’t put the possibility past him.
Gin leapt off the hook and ran to the door. It would be too obvious to use it, even if he waited, and there was a good chance it was booby trapped or they had locked the console. He studied the wall. There were no other entrances that he could see, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t make one, he realized as he jogged to the far left. The interior of these domes was mostly fixed paths and between the corridors and rooms were small pockets of nothing. Tent and metal surrounded everything, which meant that he could make up for the lack of extra paths by simply slipping between them.
He knocked on a couple walls and felt a metal surface on one and nothing but canvas on another. Quickly, he retrieved his blade, cut through the thin material, and slid into a large metal box that stretched up at least four floors and out for several hundred yards. He wouldn’t be able to pursue them directly, but he could cut them off. They seemed as eager for a fight as he was, and he didn’t want to disappoint them. That would be shockingly bad manners, and he wasn’t so despicable.
He recalled that they’d discussed heading to the top of the dome to signal for a ship. Gin studied the metal fixture. They would have to climb stairs or ladders, but he wasn’t so encumbered. He could beat them by a few floors and simply wait.
Aided by the jump jets in his boots, he leaned forward and jumped two stories, spun, and then released a pulse of barrier energy which boosted him up another ten feet. He flicked the fingers of his bionic arm. Small spikes emerged from the tips of his fingers and he used these to cling to the side of the building. He tested his knife against the metal, but it was too thick to cut through with his normal blade. Undeterred, he sheathed it and pressed a switch. Two clicks sounded and a plasma blade engaged. He drew it out again and activated the heated blade and forced it slowly into the metal plating.
When he was most of the way through, he moved the blade in a circle to create an entrance. That done, he tipped the knife up and forced the metal out and caught it between his thumb and palm. After sheathing the weapon, he climbed through and switched to his normal blade as his feet touched the ground. He slid the metal gingerly back into place. It wasn’t perfect and jutted out a little, but he wasn’t too concerned.
He could be stealthy, but that was when he was more interested in getting something done rather than enjoying himself.
His journey had brought him to a storage room of some sort. Unless they wanted to stock up on toiletries and cleaning supplies before their departure—he grinned at the stupidity of the thought—they probably wouldn’t enter there.
A beep from his wrist indicated that his generator needed to recharge. So be it. He wanted to be sporting anyway. Gin deactivated his cloak as he walked to the storage room door, opened it casually, and poked his head out. It led to a much larger room with white tiles and a high ceiling. A few empty cages stood off to the side. It would probably have been used as a server or containment room had Axiom not been chased off so quickly.
He shut the door and wondered if they would come this way at all. They could have gone to the other side of the dome to try and find an exit at the edge. Would they risk it? There were probably more mutants that way. This place was absolutely lousy with them.
Then, the silence was broken by a tapping sound. Metal pounded below in an almost circular pattern. Gin smiled. They were coming—quickly, fervently, almost as if they raced to meet him.
Lovely.
Chapter Fifteen
“Of all the things they set up in this place, they didn’t bother to install a working elevator?” Kaiden muttered heatedly as the group hastened up the steps.
“If you wanna take a break, you can go ahead and wait on the shriekers and nagas to catch up,” Magellan suggested sarcastically.
“Or wait for the killer to show his face,” Lazar added. “I haven’t seen him since the nagas first showed up. Maybe Kaiden was right—he might have bolted.”
“Hey, you used my real name. Are we getting along now?”
“He’s not gone,” Magellan interrupted before the gang leader could reply and he glared at him.
“Do you have some sort of psychic link with this guy?” he inquired. “You speak like he’s some sort of boogeyman. He’s a psycho with some shiny shit on his body—mortal like you and me.”
“Do you know how many people I’ve killed, Lazar?” Magellan retorted and headed up to another flight of stairs.
“I can guess, but I have a feeling that was rhetorical.”
“Hundreds. I don’t have an exact count as it isn’t good manners to count your kills in the middle of firefights, but you know my hunter rank. That wasn’t achieved by catching gutter scum and a few ex-mercs. I’ve never lost a bounty with the exception of Gin.”
Kaiden paused and asked, “How many times have you run into him?”
Magellan stopped his ascent and Lazar almost knocked into him. “This makes nine, now,” he answered without looking back. “Sometimes, he slips by without me having a good shot at him. Other times, I can take bits and pieces, but I have obviously never caught him. At this point, I feel much like the regretful owner of a feral dog.”
“Yeah, you gave us the whole spiel before we came into the dome,” Lazar said snidely. “You also said you would deal with him if we ran into him. That has left me with two dead teammates and the kid with PTSD.”
“I’m not sure I would go that far,” Kaiden muttered, mostly to himself. He had to admit he didn’t feel as excited as he usually did to charge into danger and the realization shook him. But he had back-up this time and wouldn’t face this guy alone. He checked his Tempest, examined the vents for damages or gunk, and brushed at a couple of scratches on the frame of the machine gun. It was routine to check his gear so it didn’t jam in the middle of battle, but his fingers trembled a little this time.
“I’m aware of that,” Magellan continued. Kaiden stopped his nervous cleaning. “I’ve gotten too…cocky, I suppose. The last three times I’ve run into him, ever since I blew his leg off, he hasn’t really wanted to engage me directly, not like this. He’s much more self-assured now, apparently.”
“If that’s how you want to put it,” Lazar grunted and checked the cannon that Kane had carried. “We’ll argue the details once we get on the dropship. But if you can at least keep the promise that I’ll have a proper fight with him, that’ll keep me cool for when this eventually hits me properly.”
The bounty hunter looked up at the top floor as if he could see Gin through the walls above. “Despite what I’ve said, I know he won’t run here. I didn’t think he would attack so haphazardly, though.”
“What would make you t
hink he would stick around if he’s run from you the past few times?” Kaiden asked.
Magellan drew a different pistol from the one that shot poisonous gas explosives. He twirled it once and inspected it. “His body count, the fact that he’s been wanted for over three years, and that he’s stolen tech from both official WC facilities and from top grade companies have placed him on the Revenant List. Do you know what that is?”
The merc leader propped the cannon against his shoulder and his gaze darted from one side to the other as he thought. “Supposedly, it’s some unofficial wanted list that has guys with bounties worth fifty million creds or more.”
“I can assure you it’s quite real. The name comes from ancient times, and it means the reincarnated corpse of a violent or blasphemous person that would spread disease and generally make life miserable for people—an abomination to God and blight to man.”
“That sounds about right for this guy.” Kaiden nodded. “And the idea is to stick them back in the ground?”
“Dead man walking and all that.” Magellan nodded. “Basically, anyone on the list is considered such a cancer on humanity that they have said fifty million-plus bounty on their heads, which can be turned in with no questions asked. But also, they regularly send out patrols of the WC’s finest to try to catch one themselves.”
“He’s been able to avoid them all this time?” Lazar questioned.
The bounty hunter placed the pistol back into its holster. “I never said that. He’s run into about four or five of them. Obviously, he’s still around.”
“Good Lord,” Kaiden stammered. “This guy isn’t…damn.”
“We get it at this point, Magellan. Gin is a sick and deadly motherfucker who wouldn’t spare your life if you gave him all your creds, a cupcake, and a bottle of something ridiculously expensive,” Lazar growled. “Are you his hype man too?”
Advance (Animus Book 4) Page 12