A Web Serial by M.C.A. Hogarth
| 110. Heartbeats. | 112. Too Late. |
|---|
111. Precious Seconds
Scythe. "Fang! FANG! Pingback!"
There are so many crabs they hit the top of Team Kitty's group bubble and go skidding across it, off it, flying down the corridor. Beneath the avalanche the team crouches close, bugs crushed against them, bugs over them, bugs now behind them. The shield holds, little arcs of color traveling its surface. Looking up at it, Flea whispers, "****."
Scythe. "FANG!"
A good ten meters of the corridor has come down. Everything is flailing limbs and flying dirt and light reflected off chitin. We spin dizzily close to the mass.
Closer to one section of writhing bodies.
Closer.
Between two crabs, three, six. Under. Down.
Fang is in a fetal curl at the very bottom of the pile-up, her shield bubbled close around her. She swallows, bares her teeth. "Yeah, Boss. I'm alive. Pretty ****ed if you can't clear all this out in—" her eyes track to the power reading on the inside bottom right of her faceplate. "—five minutes."
[ Base ] Scythe : Base, this is Kitty. Where's our back-up?
[ Base ] Control : Kitty, this is Control. Team Holiday is on their way.
Fang. "Boss, the LT was on the other side of me...."
Scythe, under his breath. "****!" To the team with him under the shield. "What the **** are you waiting for? A cue-card? ****ing kill the enemy!" Then, against the report of gunfire, "Lieutenant? Are you there? Lieutenant!"
Camera rises. Swings over the roiling. All... the... way... to the other side of the mass, where Avril has backed up and is shooting, his first-generation shield flashing with every bullet that stings it on the way out. He's killing very fast, but this is only the end of the river pouring out of the distant holes.
Avril. "I'm fine, Sergeant. On the other side of this mess. Try not to catch me in your line of fire, eh?"
Scythe. "Stay near what's left of the wall."
Avril, wry. "Trying. For some reason these things are trying to kill me."
Scythe. "You have your shield?"
Avril. "Yeah, but shooting through it is draining it quickly."
Scythe, to himself. "****ing first revisions." Louder. "Two options, sir. Go around this corridor and meet up with us behind. Or halve the bubble, facing forward. That should keep it extended."
Avril. "Don't think wandering off alone is a good idea, Sergeant."
Scythe. "No, sir."
Avril. "Bonnet might kill me."
Scythe. "Yes, sir."
Avril. "All right. Half-shield. Keep them busy."
Scythe. "Will do, sir."
Fang. "Can you keep them busy faster? There's so much **** on me I can't even crawl your way."
Fang2. "Missing a hell of a shoot-out."
Fang, grimacing. "Shut up. This is ****ing bad enough without you gloating."
[ Officer ] Bonnet : I heard that, you know.
[ Officer ] Avril : Was it untrue?
[ Officer ] Bonnet : I'm more of the 'beat to a pulp and give them a chance to repent first' type, but... more or less.
Scythe has joined the others in the slaughter... but his eyes are on the blips on the HUD, moving steadily away.
Scythe, whispering. "****." Punching a hole through a crab's head, "Sir, we're running out of time!"
| 110. Heartbeats. | 112. Too Late. |
|---|
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