《Menschenjaeger》Chapter 37

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Stepping through the wall, I moved the saw to my other hand and drew the Slukh. Here I was, off to kill a knife-throwing metal maniac with nothing but a pocket pistol, a broken power tool, and a few stab wounds. I was going to fucking kill Lyu, though, even if I had to take her apart piece by piece. The pulsing anger behind my eyes wouldn’t accept any other answer.

The building had been gutted on the other side of the wall, with nothing obstructing the interior but steel pillars holding up the low ceiling. A few lights still burned with fitful, iridescent color, dangling from their wires. I picked all this up in the half second or so before another knife shot at me from the left. I managed to dodge, the blade plucking at the sleeve of my coat. I looked and found Lyu less than ten yards away, just standing there like she was annoyed I hadn’t had the grace to die already. I raised the Slukh and yanked the trigger. But the sights seemed to be alive, sliding all over the place and bristling with fur. Fucking poison. Lyu didn’t even bother dodging, and none of the bullets came near her. Miming a yawn, she drew another blade. Damn it. It was all I could do not to hurl the gun at her in frustration. She had less room to run in here, but she was still going stay out of reach and pick me off from a distance- unless I didn’t let her.

“Sia’s grace, it’s like watching a blind roach on the street. Just…blundering into things until someone smashes it.” She twirled the knife as she spoke, walking it back and forth across her extra fingers. “You’ve done alright, for quarry scum, but we both know how this will end, hm? So let me at least make it clean. Last ch-“

As smart as she acted, this bitch really didn’t know me as well as she thought. She didn’t get to finish her offer because I was already sprinting right at her. I thought she’d leap away, but instead she flipped the knife’s tip between her fingers and raised it for a throw. I’d been hoping for this. If I could tough through a bullet I could take another knife, and once she got into grappling range she wouldn’t be getting out. This is gonna hurt you a lot more than it hurts me, I thought as my lips peeled back from my teeth. Her hand came down-

And there was a great white flash in my head, a razorwire starburst of pain sharper than my saw and hotter than the old sun. I’d fallen to the ground without realizing it, one hand clapped to my face. An agonized keening ground its way out through my gritted teeth. I knew what had happened, but I didn’t want to believe it. I forced my eyelids open through the pain and found the right half of my vision dark.

“Why, Sawyer! If you give me such an easy target I’m certainly going to show off a little.”

She’d put a knife into my fucking eye. It felt like a star of burning ice lodged in my socket, a spiky ball that just shivered with purest torment. It made ignoring the hallucinations easier, but I wasn’t thinking much about silver linings right now. Shoving myself into a sitting position, I took a shuddering breath and yanked the knife out. White agony flashed through my head, and I think I actually did pass out briefly, falling back onto my side. The blade clattered to the floor, the tip buckled from its encounter with my skull.

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“I gave you more chances than you deserved. You heard me.” The cleated soles of her bionics clinked on the concrete. “I would have just slit your throat. Now, though, perhaps I’ll take you home with me. Give you to that oaf Barrikad.”

She crouched beside me, servos growling. Charging right at her had been a bad idea, granted. But the goal had been to get her close, and here she was. “The Bones seem very impressed with you. I wonder if they’ll they feel the same when we dump you outside their bar, eyeless, handless, and fucked ’til you-“

I lashed out hard with what was left of the saw. The jagged end of the blade squealed, biting through her armor as I ripped it across her gut. Hot blood soaked my arm, misted into my face. She staggered back, releasing a weird, fluting shriek through her vocalizer. I picked up the knife from my eye and hurled it at her as I rose, uncaring of how it sliced my fingers. She leapt away and it missed, but I laughed anyway, low and raspy and tinged with mania.

“Now who’s fucked, you absolute cunt!” I was half-mad with pain and covered in blood, but not all of it was mine. That was as good a reason as any to smile. I’d be even happier if I knew where she’d went, though. I’d caught the quicksilver flash of her armor darting off into the darkness but lost sight of her immediately. I could try and run, just cut my losses and leave with Fidi-and where the fuck was he, anyway?-but I didn’t want to. I wanted to drive Lyu into the fucking concrete until even Sawada couldn’t find a part worth salvaging. And honestly, neither of us could leave without the risk of getting a blade in the back. Does she know that, though?

Maybe not. She struck me as overconfident, arrogant. Who else would throw knives like Sura the fucking Vampire Maid when guns were a thing? She’d think I was done for, that gutting her was the last bite of a dying animal. If she did, she wasn’t far off. The fuel was still there, the rage burning deep in my skull, but the engine was looking pretty ratty. I’d lost a lot of blood. Breathing hurt. The fresh dose of poison tunneled what was left of my vision. And my head…Doc Laggard would have his work cut out for him if I lived. So I’d play into it. Set her up once more. I just had to hope she’d fall for the same trick twice- and there was one last card I could play, something I’d forgotten about until I fell on it when she took my eye.

I went back through the wall and out through the office. I didn’t have to work to hard to fake my shellshocked stumble. My eye darted madly around as looked for any sign of Lyu, sending pain spiking through my head. I got back to the lone Blue Division vic and leaned on the hood, panting. I really had to sell it if this was going to work. I let my knees buckle and collapsed against the side of the truck. I fished the small flask Walker had given me out of my jacket and held it, waiting.

Almost a minute went by. It was getting colder out, despite the humidity. Or maybe it was just blood loss. The arm of my jacket was soaked in it, sticking clammily to my skin. Just as I began to think she’d left after all, I heard the metallic sound of her steps. She’d holed up in the warehouse like Fidi and I had, but now she was coming towards me. Her walk was wary, made awkward by the fact that she kept one arm clamped against her belly. I loosened the lid on the flask.

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“You really are a mad fucking roach, you know that?” Her voice was pained, her accent thicker, its refined inflections gone. I couldn’t help but take some cruel pleasure in it. “Or maybe not. Maybe you did save yourself some trouble. Not giving you to that deek Vivar, no. Gonna kill you right fucking here.”

I tipped the flask to my lips and poured the wake-the-dead down my throat. It tasted like fire, sat in my gut like a puddle of molten metal. I hoped it would kick in soon. Lyu pulled up short when she saw it. “What? One last drink? Kingshit, you quarryslaves are so-ngh!-so fucking dramatic. Enjoy it while it lasts.” She pulled a knife out of its holster at her thigh, looming over me.

Then I groaned in pain, because Walker had been telling the truth when he said this stuff didn’t play around. All of a sudden a Praetor kicked me in the chest, my heart hammering a mile a minute. My skin prickled all over like I’d just snorted a whole jar of sketchy pre-workout, and a nervous, twitchy energy filled my limbs. The pain faded, or at least stopped being worthy of notice. I took a deep breath, my head feeling clearer than it had been since I’d been shot. Suddenly nothing much seemed like a problem. Enjoy it while it lasts, she says. “Oh, I will.”

I shot off the ground and drove my hand into the cut across her belly. It was wet in there, shockingly hot. Violated muscles spasmed around my wrist. A wail ripped out of her as I shoved my hand upward, almost to the elbow. Some pulsing something with the texture of wet paper tore under my fingernails. A lung, maybe?

“Man, that probably feels fucking awful,” I told her as I felt around for her heart. Nice and conversational. Her bionic hands pattered against my chest, palsied and weak. Somehow, she mustered the energy to pull away from me before I reached my goal, my arm sucking free of her belly with a sound that, had I not been tweaked out of my skull, would probably have me heaving.

I flew at her before she could even fall, grabbing her across the face with my bloody hand. I bore her down, drove her skull into the macadam with a satisfying crack, let go and smashed rapid hammerblows into her face like I was trying to drive rivets through her forehead. I didn’t stop until I felt bones shift and grind beneath my fists.

“Ought to do it,” I huffed, breathing hard. She was hardly recognizable, the metal covering the lower half of her face crumpled like a soda can. I had no idea if she was still breathing. “Better make sure, though.” I reached for the saw. Took a few passes, what with the broken blade, but it was still plenty sharp enough to take her head off. When I was done I pulled my trophy free of the last strands of gristle and got up, shooting to my feet so quick I jumped a little. This wake-the-dead stuff was like jump-starting your vic with a welder: effective, but kingsdamn is it bad for it.

I stood straight and stretched as best I could, wondering where the hell Fidi was. We still had to get that trunk out of of the blown-up Fomorii truck. In fact, I was feeling so good I went and got on it. The wreck was still hot, but I covered my hand with a shirt torn from a corpse and was able to extricate the payload. The big armored case was none the worse for wear, and the weird arm was still inside it when I checked. I closed it and used it as a seat, deciding to give Fidi a couple minutes more before I went looking.

It was a good thing I did. He came tearing into the lot in the Dienskat not thirty seconds later., its laser-pumped headlight beams a pair of icy knives through the darkness. And I’d just been getting comfortable. He pulled up beside me, turbines whirring, and hopped out. A bloody field dressing was around one of his upper arms, but he seemed okay. “Sorry for the delay, ‘mana. I ran into some Blue Div backup and had to- reyes santos, Sharkie, what happened?”

I looked at him quizzically a moment before realizing why there was so much horror in his voice. I was missing an eye. Had multiple stab wounds. My hands looked like ground pork. And I was drenched in blood, only some of it mine. It all felt like it mattered about as much as yesterday’s acid forecast, courtesy of Walker’s drugs. I was getting really sick of drugs, in fact.

Now, how to explain all that? “Uh, things got kinda messy. Vivar got away. But I’ll be alright. Probably. Oh, and here’s their weird hand.” I stood up and tapped the trunk with my boot, and Fidi rushed over like he thought I was about to fall.

“We need to get you to Laggard, fast. Kings’ blood, woman, did you try to stop a truck with your face?”

“No, a bullet. And I did stop it.” Shit! Why’d I say that? Fucking drugs. Now I’d have to explain the whole tungsten mess too.

Several emotions flitted across his face before he just bowed his head and sighed. “Tell me later. For now let’s just get to Hsieh Street.” He insisted on loading up the trunk himself while I watched, tapping a foot, then hopped in. I was about to join him when he looked down at my hand. “Do you have to take that?”

“Yup.” I tossed Lyu’s head into the footwell, making Fidi wince. “Bitch owes me an eye.”

Fidi soon had us screaming along a maintenence roadway that traced the bank of the Guethon Canal. Foul black water streaked by on one side, only a few feet below us. On the other was a great tangled mess of pipes, ducts, and cables, twisting and convoluted as steel intestines. Automated valves clacked and hissed as we passed by, their status lights flashing out of the dark like the eyes of imps. We’d been underground for several minutes, but suddenly the ceiling ended and we were back beneath the sky. The Pall had gotten unusually thin, all shot through with mottled cracks and spots of sullen red sunlight. It reminded me of a tumor trying to bulge through skin, or the wrath of some rotting god just barely contained behind the thin membrane of reality.

Kings. I was definitely still stoned.

“Sharkie!” Fidi snapped at me.

“Wha-what? What is it?” I’d been trying to tell him what happened, but I’d totally zoned out there.

He muttered some curse before repeating himself. “I asked how you managed to kill her when you’re this beat up.”

“Oh. Yeah. I just drank some of Walker’s special sauce. Woke me right up.”

The dubious look on his face was plain now that he’d pulled off his mask. “You drank Walker’s…sauce?”

“Not his- ugh, not that, you fucking weirdo. He gave me some wake-the-dead, some- oh, what did he call it…”

“Revey’amours? You actually used it? Kings, they weren’t lying about you, Sharkie.”

“Why are you so shocked? I thought this kind of shit is what it was for!”

He shook his head. “Sharkie, it’s got enough speed in it to kill a meat ‘zard! Coca, too, and khat and synthope and who knows what else.”

There was a thump as one of the tires splattered a big dogroach. I laughed hysterically, then almost immediately felt sad for it. I shook my head to try and clear it as Fidi gave me a very dubious look.

“Oh. That makes sense. No wonder I’m so tweaked out.”

“Well, don’t sound so concerned.”

“Come on, Fidi! It did its job, and it’s not like worrying about it will un-drug me.” I was pretty sure this blasè fatalism was as drug-induced as the euphoria, but in a way it was better than being scared for my life.

He hesitated before replying. “I’m glad you’re alive, Sharkie. But any more victories like this and you’ll be dead or worse.”

“Maybe Walker should have sent more than two fucking people, then, if he didn’t want me getting so messed up. Kings.”

“I will be talking with him about that,” he sighed. “Things are escalating, no matter how much he wants to keep them low key. We did not expect someone like Zmey Lyubov to be working with the Blues.”

“What, she’s famous? Was, I mean?” I sure hadn’t heard of her.

“She was new on the scene, but she had a reputation. Not a nice one. In fact, I’d say you did D-block a service clipping that one.” He turned long enough to give me a pained smile. “But did you have to let her cut you up so much first?”

“I dunno, man, I’m feeling pretty good. No, really!” I protested at the look he shot me. “I mean, the eye thing sucks, but I’m sure I’ll be able to get it taken care of. The wake-the-dead and whatever shit she dosed me with are smoothing each other out, and man, did it feel good to beat the fuck out of her. So yeah, I’m feeling pretty satisfied. And- and kind of horny, actually. Why am I horny? Why the fuck am I saying this out loud? Damn it!” I threw my head back against the seat, sending a thrum of pain through it. I was sure I’d be mortified whenever I sobered up.

Fidi chuckled, swerving us up an access ramp and onto empty, pothole-riddled surface streets. “Combat stress reaction. It’s not unheard of. Something about the body’s drive to pass on its genes before it dies, I think. I’m no shrink.”

I eyed him sidelong. “So, uh, it ever happen to you?”

“…Sometimes. Where are you going with this, ‘mana?”

“Well, I mean…” I looked awkwardly out the windshield. “You wanna stop at a hotel or something? Just for old time’s sake?”

He cracked a grin. “While I appreciate the offer, Sharkie, you’re currently covered in blood and badly injured-“

“I’m pretty tough. And showers exist.”

“-and I’m married.”

“Oh. Oh, shit, Fidi, I didn’t even see the ring!” Any thoughts of a tryst were swept away by genuine happiness for my friend. “Congrats, man! How long for?”

“Almost three years,” he said, shaking his head and smiling wryly like he still couldn’t believe it.

“Any kids? If, uh, if it’s a woman.”

“She’s due in four months. Our first.”

“That’s amazing, ‘mano!” I clapped him on the shoulder and flicked away an imaginary tear. “My boy’s all grown up.”

“I’m a year older than you, speed fiend.” The both of us laughed, and I sat back in my seat. Fidi married and having a kid. That was wild. Only a few years ago we were running around Livery and Central Ward together, lifting what we could get away with and tagging the alleys. Made me wonder what the hell I’d been doing with my life. Whatever. I had plenty of time. Probably. And any kid I raise’ll probably turn out an even bigger fuckup than me, I thought with a shake of my head. But hell, that was a worry for another time. Right now I was glad to be alive and victorious.

“Hey, Fidi.”

“Yes, Sharkie?”

“So, say I wasn’t all fucked up-“

“Sharkie…”

“-and you were single. What would you have said then?” I leaned toward him with a smug little smile.

He rolled his eyes and sighed. “I suppose I would be tempted.”

“Yes!” I pumped my fist, forgetting the stab in my shoulder until it twinged even through the meds. “Ow, ow, ow... We’re going to count that one as a victory. Chalk one up for the good guys!”

“Reyes,” he muttered. “I hope the comedown from that shit is awful.”

“And I hope I’ll be knocked out for the detox.”

“Only a few more minutes,” said Fidi as we passed onto more populated streets. “Laggard is going to pitch a fit when he sees you.”

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