The last thing between them and the Frogman was a straight tunnel. It was especially large compared to others, with the ceiling being about twenty feet high and the walls thirty feet apart. Andrew was never good with distances, but he estimated it to extend for about two miles before sloping sharply upwards. Several bodies were variously strewn about the floor and slumped up against walls about a mile down, but they both pretended to not see them. It was obvious that in this exposed space, they’d be dead if the Frogman saw them. Andrew flirted with the idea of turning back. Sure, it’d mean losing Yui and all his possessions, but he could always overpower Sylph and… The thought of Sam and Yui hearing he turned yellow and ran away stopped him. It was better to be dead than known as a coward. Besides, if he managed to pull this one off it’d be another great exploit. What was better in life than that?

Once they got close to the first body, Sylph deliberately raised her head to avoid looking at it. Andrew stopped, instead opting to hold his nose and look it over. The corpse was lying on its side in a pool of corrugated blood. He had been dead for a long time, as evidenced by his extended state of decay. His pants had been removed, but his shirt and backpack hadn’t. Probably something to do with the multiple bullet holes going into his bag and coming out of his abdomen. That’ll be us in a few hours. Andrew looked down the tunnel and squinted. It was hard to make out against the stone, but it looked like a trail of dried blood led to the guy. Andrew rolled him over on his stomach with his stick, then used his stiletto to cut open the bag and spill its contents on the floor. They must have already been picked over; the only things left were some bloodstained clothes.

“Andrew, what are you doing? There’s nothing left on that guy. Lets keep moving, we’re vulnerable here.”

“This guy looks like he walked a ways before bleeding out so I think we’re not in firing range. If Mr. Froggy shows we’ll just book it back the way we came.” Andrew picked up a pair of pants and shook them violently. Chunks of clotted blood flew out.

“What the fuck are you doing? That’s disgusting!” Andrew picked up another pair and repeated the process.

“Well, might find something.” Sylph moved away from him while he exhausted the rest of the pile.

“You didn’t find shit and now you smell like corpse.”

“Olfactory camouflage.” He said with a grin. They made their way down the straight away, with Andrew picking over every corpse he came across. At first almost everything he found was completely worthless. Somebody must’ve heard about the Frogman letting people leave and picked over the first half of the tunnel. After a while he started finding stuff like cellphones, knives, and blankets. They were close to where the slope began, so scavengers probably got cold feet. Andrew took a few sturdy-looking blades for himself, then made sure Sylph got some too. If he had known how many of these he was going to find he would’ve spent the money on something else, like a proper funeral. Eventually they came to a corpse missing the upper half of his head. Judging by the rotting brains nearby and the jagged edges on his skull, it had been shot off. Andrew slashed open his bag and found a roll of duct-tape.

“MacGyver’s best friend! I’m certain we’ll make it out alive now!”

“Quiet down you idiot!” She hissed. “We’re way too close to be making that much noise.” Andrew nodded at her and kept checking bodies. Right at the edge of incline was a corpse slumped up against the wall. On his sleeve was a white armband. Sylph had mentioned The Merchant sent in ten riflemen, but Andrew didn’t see any guns. Andrew spilled the bag, and was rewarded with the clicking sound of a loaded pistol magazine hitting the floor. He held it up to Sylph and grinned.

“Now this,” He said in a hushed voice, “Is something.” He handed it over to her while he searched the rest of the bag for its recipient.

“What caliber is it?” Sylph turned it over in her hands.

“.45 auto.” Failing to find anything in the bag, he started checking the pockets.

“How can you tell?”

“It says it on the cartridge.” Sylph rotated the round on the top of the stack until the stamped markings were visible.

“There’s no way you could’ve seen that.”

“I didn’t. On the outside I had a 1911 in the same caliber. I recognized those.”

“Well, it doesn’t look like you found the gun.”

“We might find it, and you know, when our entire plan is riding on mights, I don’t mind adding another to the list.” Andrew held out his hand to receive it, then tucked it inside his jacket.

“We’re going into the danger zone now, voices down, knives out.” She said. Andrew nodded at her and flicked his stiletto open with his left hand, still holding the pole in the right. He took a step towards the incline then stopped. Sylph raised an eyebrow.

“Having second thoughts?”

“Yeah, about those cell phones we left behind.” He turned around and trotted over to a pile of gear he had dumped. Using his new knife he popped out as many cell phone batteries as he could, then stuffed them in his pockets.

“Can you make a bomb with those?”

“Yep.”

“Great! Now all we have to do is plant the thing somewhere we know he’s going to walk by and set it off when he comes by.”

“Not so fast. These batteries will make a bang, but unless we can set them off directly against his body we’re going to end up giving him more hearing damage than anything else. That and I don’t think we can blow out a battery with a spark. We’d need to put them on top of something that we set on fire, or overheat them by some other method.’

“Any other bad news?”

“Yeah, the detonator is a timer, not a sensor. We can’t just set a trap and forget about it.” Andrew shrugged in an exaggerated sorry gesture. Sylph shook her head and started walking up the incline. The second Andrew’s foot touched the slope his heart jumped into his throat. They had no idea where this guy or his traps were, and stumbling into either of those could mean instant death. He gripped the blade tightly and forced himself to move forward. The normally smooth walls of the tunnel were marred by bullet holes and bloodstains. Just barely visible at the top of the ramp were a pair of bodies. Andrew gave them the once over then prodded them with his stick. He didn’t feel anything, but he didn’t want to leave himself exposed long enough to do a thorough search.

The tunnel bent into an unnatural right corner twenty feet in front of them. Sylph went ahead and crouched next to the corner, sticking half her head around the wall. Andrew crept up behind her, trying to be as quiet as possible. While Sylph was able to walk soundlessly, his jacket made a little bit of noise whenever he moved. She turned to face him and whispered.

“Clear till intersection. Follow me.” Andrew nodded and followed her. They should’ve worked out some kind of hand signal system before they went in. It would’ve made things a lot easier. He decided to follow Sylph’s lead and avoid looking at the numerous perforated corpses strewn about the floor. All of them were stripped of everything but their clothes, so it wouldn’t even be worth trying to search them. Sylph poked her head around another corner and moved into the next segment. They repeated this process several times before Sylph almost fell over while peeking. She quickly went back behind cover, visibly shaking. Andrew touched her shoulder to get her attention. She turned to him and shook her head rapidly. He motioned for her to move away, then looked for himself.

Around the corner was a sort of stone hallway, with doors evenly spaced every fifteen feet on either side of the walls. The floor and ceiling were perfectly flat, meeting the walls at right angles. About six doors down and halfway through the passage was the Frogman. He was sitting down facing away from them, fiddling with a phone. His rifle was sitting in his lap, attached to his body with a sling. He was blocking the only way in, and with that much exposed space Andrew would get shot if he tried to charge him. Andrew considered his options; He could wait for him to leave, but it didn’t look like he was moving anytime soon. Andrew scanned the floor, which was variously littered by junk and rotting corpses. Lying in plain sight halfway between him and the Frogman was a pistol. Andrew couldn’t be certain, but it looked an awful lot like a 1911.

“Sylph, I’m pretty sure that’s the gun that this mag goes to. Here’s the plan: You take this, sneak down to the gun, load it, then unload it into his back while he’s distracted.”

“There’s no way in hell I’m doing something like that on a ‘pretty sure’!”

“Okay, I’m positive then. Come on now, you’re quieter than me, you’ll be able to do it.”

“Alright then, if you’re positive do it yourself. I’ve heard you have more experience with firearms than me, so you’ll actually be able to make the shot.” Andrew started to voice protest, but then realized she had a point. Andrew handed her the stick and took out the magazine. He looked back around the corner and mentally plotted a path to the gun. It was just like trying to sneak out of his hoarder mother’s house, except if he got caught he’d catch a lot more than a talking to. Andrew took a deep breath and pretended that was all he was risking.

He stepped out into the open, tiptoeing through bodies and trash alike. After a few strides he came to a point where he would either have to step on a severed arm or a pile of empty tin cans to keep going. A quick glance to the man at the other end of the hall reminded him of the consequences, and he stepped on the arm. It made a sickly squishing noise as he passed over it, but the Frogman didn’t notice. As Andrew got closer to the gun, and by extension his target, he started hearing something playing from the phone. The high pitched voices, the exaggerated sounds… was he watching anime?

The gun was almost within reach when the Frogman killed the sound and sat up in attention. Andrew swept it up, jammed the magazine in and racked the slide. The Frogman started to turn around and stand up. Andrew closed his left eye and quickly sighted him. He pulled the trigger four times and landed three shots on his torso. The Frogman fell down on his back and Andrew’s gun made a clicking noise when he tried pulling the trigger again. He was confused for a moment, then terrified when he saw his opponent start to move his gun. Andrew grabbed the nearest door and flung it open. Almost immediately two bullets tore through the wood. He dove into the room and rolled so that he was behind a wall.

The sound of boots slapping against stone filled the hallway. Andrew stood up and pressed his back against the door-frame. He dropped the pistol, then drew his stiletto. The footfalls came closer and closer, until they stopped. They were soon replaced by the sound of asthmatic wheezing. Based on the noise, it sounded like he was moving back and forth a few feet away from the doorway. Andrew realized what he was doing and turned his feet to get them close to the wall.

A second later the Frogman stepped into the room with his gun pointed at him. Was he holding it left handed? Before he could completely line up the shot Andrew’s hand shot out and grabbed the barrel of the rifle. He yanked it towards the wall and the Frogman pulled the trigger. Pain shot through Andrew’s hand and he yelped as the barrel burned his hand, but still he maintained his grip. The Frogman kept firing and frying his hand, while Andrew tried to plant his knife into his opponent’s stomach. He quickly encountered something stiff beneath the jacket. It was probably a vest, that’d explain why- just as Andrew forced the tip of blade past the armor and into the flesh the Frogman switched tactics and smacked him in the face with the butt of the rifle. Andrew recoiled, taking the blade out.

The Frogman fired another round, and this time Andrew’s hand audibly sizzled. Realizing this, the Frogman fired rapidly, all while shaking the gun around and trying to aim it at Andrew. For his part, Andrew managed to get a few deep cuts on his trigger arm. The white hot pain consuming his hand prevented him from coming up with any better tactics. The booming of the rifle was quickly replaced by the clicking sound of an empty magazine. Realizing this, Andrew tried to wrestle the weapon away from him. The Frogman cut him short with a stomp to the foot, then turned his gun sideways and tried to push Andrew to the ground with it. Realizing he couldn’t overpower his larger opponent, Andrew dropped the knife and grabbed the sleeve of his jacket. He briefly considered a tomoe nage throw, but with the tight space and his injured hand we was just as liable to end up crushing himself under the Frogman. Instead, he took advantage of the push, stepping to the side and pulling his opponent forward. Andrew turned his body into the throw, crying out in pain as his burnt skin tore off the barrel.

The Frogman fell face first into the carpeted floor with a grunt. Andrew strode over and tried to stomp on his head, but the Frogman rolled on his back and grabbed Andrew’s foot. Before he could figure out what was happening, the Frogman had yanked him off his feet and was climbing on top of him. Andrew tried to shove him off, but he was too heavy. The Frogman smashed him in the forehead with his elbow, then started strangling him. Andrew frantically grabbed at his mask, trying to find eyes to gouge out. His vision started to swim as he found the eye sockets. Was the mask really offering this much resistance? It was getting hard to even keep his hands on it.

Just when it felt like his head was going to explode from the pressure a wooden stick collided with the Frogman’s temple. The hands around his neck loosened and he gasped for air. A second later the rod returned, landing three times in rapid succession. Andrew summoned all his strength and managed to push him off enough to escape. He heard distant shouting but couldn’t make out what was being said. The pistol was between a pair of feet. He scrambled over to it and picked it up. He felt someone grab the strap of his pack and pull him to his feet. The next thing he knew they were running out the door, with him clumsily being led behind her.

When they reached the end of the hallway dust kicked up from the wall and Andrew felt pain in his right shoulder. He glanced over to it and saw the top of the jacket had been torn open and the skin scraped. A second later Sylph yanked him around the corner and more of the wall flew apart. Over the beating of his heart he could barely make out muffled popping sounds. They kept running, turning corner after corner. He had no idea where they were in the tunnels, but Sylph seemed to still remember. He looked down at his left hand and saw it was covered in white blisters and bloody scrapes. Right now the pain felt distant, but so did everything else. They came to a long, narrow tunnel that split into three paths at the end. One followed the curve of the rest of the tunnel, while the other two split off at sharp corners. Andrew looked over his shoulder and saw the Frogman round the corner into the hallway. A hail of bullets passed between them as they ducked into the left path.

In front of them was a much shorter passage, only fifteen feet long and ending in a door. Sylph hesitated for a moment, but Andrew kept running, now dragging her behind him by the arm. He got to the door and slammed it open. They were inside a large bathroom with a second door on the other side. Andrew closed the door behind him and moved away from it.

“Sylph, go out the other way and take cover in the first room you can find. I’ll be right behind you.”

“What a-”

“Run now!” Andrew ran over to the shelves under the sink and opened a door so hard it fell off its hinges. He heard Sylph dash out as he scanned the bottles of cleaning supplies. He found a bottle of bleach and a bottle of ammonia, then quickly shoved his blade through them. He pulled out the knife and booked it for the other door. Around the same time the crackling started he heard the Frogman’s footfalls. He ran through the doorway and slammed it behind him. Past the door was another bedroom, with a door back into the tunnels opposite him. He sprinted through that door and slammed it shut. A moment later he heard a pained “Fuck!” There was a lone door in the middle of the tunnel. Ahead of it, the walls started to bend in a deep curve.

“Sylph! It’s me!” He cried as he came to the door. She opened it and he practically fell into her arms.

“What did you do? Is he dead?”

“I filled the-” He stopped to pant, “Bathroom with chloramine gas. Best case he’s dead, worst case he can’t follow us.”

“Don’t you remember the maps!? This area is a big loop leading back to the last hallway! He’s going to come around the other way and kill us!” She slowly let go of him, making sure he could stand on his own feet. Andrew nearly shat a brick, realizing he had just trapped them. He took off his pack and threw it on the bed. He glanced at the door he assumed led to a bathroom, but decided it was more important to keep his eyes on the doorway. He detached the magazine from his gun and examined it. There were still two rounds inside. He racked the slide and ejected the top cartridge. He picked it up off the ground and examined it. There was a dent in the back where the firing pin had hit, but the round hadn’t gone off. He tossed it aside then reinserted the magazine. He re-racked the slide. Two shots. That could be enough to survive on. He moved to the end of the room opposite the open door and trained his gun on the opening.

“Man, I can’t believe the first guy I gassed wasn’t even a Jew.” The pain in his left hand made it hard to hold the gun properly, so he switched to holding it one handed and supporting his right arm with his left wrist.

“This is not the time for antisemitism Andrew!” She shouted, red in the face and shaking.

“Stand next to the door with your knife out. If he kills me and enters you might be able to stab him in the neck.”

“Andrew, I-”

“It’s been a good fight. I can d-” He choked up a little, “Die knowing I went out like this. Promise me you’ll live to tell the story.” He hid his terror behind a warm smile. A few minutes passed in uneasy quiet, before the silence was broken by the sound of banging and coughing. Andrew’s eyes snapped to the sights, which he trained on the rightmost edge of the opening. A few seconds later he heard stumbling, irregular footsteps coming down the passage towards them. They got closer and closer, until he saw a sliver of green appear. Andrew fired immediately, and it disappeared. He strafed to his left while aiming his pistol at the opening. He ended up in the leftmost corner, but still couldn’t see him. He stood there with his heart pounding. Only one shot left. He was too eager and only grazed him. He only had one more chance to end it all. He glanced to Sylph, who stared back at him with wide eyes. He looked back to the doorway and waited a few minutes. Then he spoke.

“How y-you feeling out there big guy?” Andrew tried his best to project confidence despite the circumstances. There was a painfully long silence before he got a response.

“What the fuck did you fucking do to my skin? Everything’s burning!” He sounded like he was in his thirties, and a lot of pain.

“Chloramine gas. I wasn’t expecting you to survive that.”

“Well I held my fucking breath.” Sylph tiptoed over to Andrew and whispered.

“What are you trying to do?”

“I’m going to get his guard down by talking to him, then go out and shoot him. Fifty fifty chance I make the shot. Fifty fifty chance I don’t also get killed.” He whispered back to her.

“I won’t let you stake our lives on a twenty five percent chance.” She walked over to his bag and fished out the detonator. “Tell me what to do to make the bomb.” She whispered with a hint of desperation.

“Uh, shit, get me a metal container and every bottle from the bathroom.” He whispered back.

“Batteries?” She asked.

“Lower left pocket.” Sylph reached over to him and took the phone batteries. She quietly opened the bathroom door and started rummaging through the cabinet. After a minute she emerged holding a large metal thermos in one hand and a bottle of mouth wash in the other. She held up the thermos and Andrew nodded. He shook his head when she held up the bottle. She went back in, then returned with two containers of extra strength rubbing alcohol. A wide grin formed on Andrew’s face as he formulated a plan.

He motioned with his head for Sylph to come closer, then whispered. “Go into the bathroom, then fill the thermos halfway with those bottles you’re holding. After that, get the duct-tape out of my bag and attach the phone batteries to the outside. Bring me it once you’re done and I’ll install the detonator.” She nodded at him and went to make the weapon.

“We’re at a bit of an impasse here.” Andrew said at a normal volume again. “If I go out you’ll kill me, but if you go by I’ll kill you.”

“So it seems.” He said plainly.

“Frogman, you’re the strongest fighter I’ve ever faced.” He said in a slightly louder voice, hoping to cover up the sounds of her bomb-making.

“My name’s not Frogman. And of course I am. The way this world works you kill everyone that’s weaker than you, then die to your better.”

“Tell me your name then. If one of us is to die to the other, we should at least know that much.”

“My name is Brandon.”

“I’m Andrew.”

“Andrew… You’ve been a worthy opponent. Nobody has ever been able to survive hand to hand combat with me, let alone wound me like you have.”

“The same goes for you. You gave me a pretty good beating back there.”

“If your companion hadn’t saved you I would have bested you then.”

“True, but could you have survived without your equipment?”

“Preparation is as much a part of strength as actual skill.”

“I donno, a large part of it seems like luck and circumstance.”

“Do you see yourself as just a plaything of fate?”

“No it’s like, fate deals me the cards,” Sylph came out with the device, holding it out to him. He took it, then motioned for her to go in the bathroom. He installed the detonator on the lid, then set the timer to ten seconds. “And I choose whether to hit or stay.”

“What will you do now?” Andrew brought back his arm to throw it, praying that it would work.

“I think I’ll hit.” He threw the bomb out into the hallway than dove to the floor. As soon he brought his hands to his ears there was a loud bang and the room shook under the force of the blast.