Chapter Eleven - Like Santa, but With Guns

“People say that money can’t solve every problem.

...Poor people. Poor people say that.”

-- Golden Platinum Diamond, interview with Samulife Magazine, June 2034

***

“Hey, baldy,” I said.

The man turned, a frown on his face that disappeared the moment he recognized me. “Yes?” he asked. He had a group of students behind him, all of them the preppy sort. At least most had put away their phones and had stopped fiddling with their eye-gear.

“You know how to shoot a gun?” I asked as I pulled Daniel to a stop.

He nodded. “I go to the range once a month,” he said.

I blinked. I had been expecting him to say no, or to brush me off. “Oh, uh, in that case.” I poked Daniel in the back and he handed a box to baldy. “Have fun.”

He eyed the box, then snapped it open and took the handgun out. “You know how much these are worth?” he asked.

“Uh. Five points?” I replied. We’d stalled long enough, the time for chit-chat was kind of drawing to an end.

“This is a Foxteeth, right?” At my nod he continued. “Nearly two hundred thousand credits for one of these.”

I looked down at the gun. Killing one Model Three allowed me to buy two. With two hundred thousand credits I could... buy a whole lot of toys with that kind of money. That was... I huffed and tried to refocus. Knowing how many cans of soda I could buy with one of those guns wasn’t as useful as knowing that someone had my back.

“Cool, cool. Just, hit the aliens, not someone else, yeah?”

He snorted and stuffed the gun into the back of his waistband. It didn’t fit his sweater-vest and slacks look. “I’m no fool,” he said.

I nodded and pushed Daniel further along. The little church group were gathering in neat rows by age, Marie at their head. “Hey, nun girl,” I said.

She turned and gave me a quick, shallow bow. “Yes?”

“Know how to handle a gun?” I asked.

“I do,” she said. “We train to be of better service to the saints who need our assistance.”

Creepy, I decided. One more mark on her tally. “Well, here’s a gift. Nail any fucks that try to hurt the kids, alright?”

Daniel grinned as he handed her the last box. “Hey, maybe later you and I can uh, talk about religious epiphanies and conversion.” He waggled his eyebrows.

The poor girl looked stuck between disgust and gratitude as she took the box with the gun and snapped it open. “Thank you,” she finally said while pretending that Daniel didn’t exist. I didn’t blame her.

“Alright casanova,” I said as I pushed Daniel to the back of the room where Lucy and the kittens were waiting. “Enough with the flirting, or I won’t give you your own toys later.”

“How’d you know my screen name?” he asked. I stared down at him until his face twisted into a shit-eating grin.

“Cat!” Lucy said as I got closer. “We’re all ready to leave.” She gestured to the kittens who all seemed okay. A few eyes were red-rimmed, and some of them looked a little shell shocked, but they were whole and in one piece. I was... pretty sure the orphanage’s insurance didn’t cover psychiatric help, but I was apparently on the fast track to being loaded, so that was a problem for some other time.

“Let’s get moving then. We’re going two, uh, maybe three levels down. There’s a parking garage.” I made sure the kittens still looking my way met my eyes. “If you get lost, find a corner to hole up in and listen for my voice, alright? I’ll come for you, promise.”

“Is it true?” Nose asked. “You’re a Samurai?”

“Who the hell knows,” I said. “Now you listen to Lucy or you’ll have to deal with me, got it?” I got some nods, which was enough for me. I was turning back to Lucy when someone tugged at my sleeve.

Junior was glaring at me, but it was without her usual heat. “I want my knife back,” she said.

“Ah,” I said. I patted my pocket and found it empty. I couldn’t even remember where I’d lost that. “Right, shit. I might have misplaced that.”

“Seriously, Cat?” she said. “Just pop me a new one then.”

I’m afraid that creating a knife would require the Basic Melee Weaponry Class I tier, and a few points besides.

“I’ll get you a knife later, promise.”

She grinned, mean and ferocious. “Yeah, I trust ya. Better be a fucking cool one too.”

I ruffled her hair. “Idiot,” I muttered. “Lucy, you and the kittens take the middle, okay?”

“Right!” Lucy said. She pushed her crutches onto Daniel’s lap and hung onto the back of his chair. “We’ll be right behind you.”

“Thanks,” I said.

Rushing back to the entrance of the room, I got things organized as quickly as I could. The normal looking school kids in the front, the kittens behind them, then the preppy kids and Marie and her lot at the back. There were a lot of people to cover with just four guns.

“Okay, let’s move,” I said. I took five steps before realizing that I needed Marie for directions. A bit of red-faced reshuffling later and the church group were at the front, the kittens behind them and the rest trailed the rear.

We started down the corridor, away from the route leading back into the museum. I pulled my Trench Maker from behind my back and started walking with the gun pointing to the ground before me. I felt damned stupid, leading a bunch of too-quiet kids like some sort of b-rated action hero.

We made decent time arriving at a stairwell that was unlocked; the flashing fire-exit sign above marking the path.

The building rumbled a little, and even from where we were, deep within, I could make out faint explosions from outside. The aliens? The army? Some PMC coming around to save the day?

The stairwell was clear, but it only led down one floor. “Damn,” I said.

“You need to take a different staircase at every floor,” Marie explained. “The building is shaped strangely.”

“And if this place was legit on fire? How would they expect people to get out in a panic?”

Marie shrugged. “I don’t know.” She licked her lips. “I don’t want to be a bother, Saint Ca-- Cat. But the kids. They’ll need to take a break at some point. Do you think we can afford it?”

“Like for the bathroom and for food?” I asked. I had to weigh the danger to the kids against making them comfortable while also getting everyone out in a timely fashion.

Speed was important, but running into an ambush would fuck us all over.

In the end, the opportunity to scout ahead won out. “Yeah, alright,” I said. “As soon as we find a safe place to stop.”

***