A Web Serial by M.C.A. Hogarth
| 07. The Corridor. | 09. Shields. |
|---|
08. Break for Rage
"Quiet circuit. You see anythin'?"
"Nothing."
"Good, let's hope it stays that way."
"From your mouth to God's ear."
" 'Nother hundred meters and we can go b—"
The wall between Spots and Claws erupts, smashing them apart on a wave of bugs.
"BREAKTHROUGH!"
"CLAWS!"
There is a stream of cursing from Claws and then silence.
"CLAWS!"
No answer.
oh God almighty, Claws claws hang on can't let them have you they eat people
damn you all you won't have him you won't have any of them not my child not anyone's child NOT ANY MOTHER'S SON DAMN YOU ALL
NOT ANY MOTHER'S SON!
Suddenly the corridor is empty of anything but bodies. Claws has staggered to his feet and is staring at a very gory Spots.
"Jesus ****ing Christ!"
Spots turns and starts walking away. Claws lunges after her.
"Dammit, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to... to blaspheme, Spots... Spots...! GUITART! Magda!"
At last Spots stops. Claws grabs her shoulders.
"Are you okay? You're not supposed to wade into them like that!"
"Sorry... I'm... sorry, Claws. I thought you were in trouble."
"I was, but... what the hell did you DO to them?"
"I... threw the shield forward of my arm and used the edge."
Claws stares at her. "Like the drill you screwed up and almost put a slice in the bulkhead."
"Well... yeah."
A long pause. "Well, can't argue with results, I guess." Still gripping her shoulder. "Control, Claws. You read?"
"Control here. Go ahead, Claws."
"We've got two breakthrough tunnels in hall 7-Spoke-32, about a hundred meters from the end."
"Understood. We'll send a patch team. Can you guard?"
"Yeah. We're a bit shook up, but we can watch it."
"Patch team is on the way, ETA six minutes."
"Copy that. Hey, Spots."
"Yes, Claws?"
"You with me?"
"Yes, Claws."
"Good."
###
Armory, post-battle. Spots is crouching in her suit, helmet off. Claws is painting on its back with a red brush.
"How many was it?"
"That you went freaking ninja on? Musta been forty or fifty. I'm callin' it fifty, five ticks. We'll fill up your back soon enough."
"I never got to ask... why the different colors? Is that... by team or something?"
"No, that's keepin' count too. If you fill up the back panel and got no room left, you paint over it in the next color on the spectrum. Orange, yellow, 'cetera."
Spots glances at Fang's suit, which is already hung.
"When do you get to black?"
"You don't get to black without dyin'." Noting the direction of Spots's gaze. "Unless you were part of Dragon Team."
"Right."
"Hey, Spots. Mind tellin' an ol' farm-boy where a cookie-bakin' mom comes by that much ***-kickin' wrath?"
"You don't know much about being a mom, do you, Claws."
" 'Fraid I don't got the equipment."
Spots is quiet. Then she smiles. "It's all love."
"Remind me not to date any moms."
"Claws!"
"Must sorta be like prayin' mantises. Snip, snip."
Spots is laughing. "C-Clawssss!"
Claws grins and keeps painting.
| 07. The Corridor. | 09. Shields. |
|---|
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