I caught it with one hand, still running. As the bio-cables inserted into my arm, the New Man turned my way and casually raised his gauntleted hand again. I knew I wouldn’t survive a second blast.
A brown and black blur streaked forward.
Stinker struck the New Man right behind the kneecap with a savage snarl. The New Man wavered for about half a second. Most people couldn’t do much in that little amount of time.
I’m not most people.
I squeezed the shot off without bothering to aim. The blast tore right through the Grimoire. The pages splintered; broken crystal sheets shattered against the floor. The disk ripped from the cover, revolving in air. The New Man bellowed as he reached, Stinker still attached to his leg. I aimed real careful-like just as his fingers closed in. I’m a pretty good shot even on a bad day.
It was a bad day.
The energy round scored a direct hit, shattering the disk. White light washed over us as the glowing window shimmered blindingly. Startled yells filled the air as everyone still standing shielded their faces from the photo flash brilliance. The doorway fizzled and winked out with a hiss. The Grimoire had fallen apart in broken butterfly wings of glittering shards, but something hovered in the air, refusing to yield to the pull of gravity.
I remembered Hunter had said the disk was an access key. What hung in the air had to be the source of power the New Man used to open the doorway. It was a metallic orb about the size of a golf ball. Tiny grooves carved lines across the surface and pinpoint lights winked in almost innocent alternating patterns. But it hummed threateningly, the timbre so deep it felt like heavy punches to my chest. The air around it shimmered electric blue.
The thermal orb.
Somewhere part of my mind could sense the New Man roaring wordlessly as he drew closer. I abandoned common sense and reached for the orb.
Not exactly the best idea I’ve ever had.
Chapter 18: Joker’s Wild
The orb vibrated so hard I felt it in my spine. It felt as though I held the power supply of the entire planet in my fist. I was pretty sure I was dying, but it turned out it was just my eyes watering from the effort of holding the thing.
As I ran, I noticed the fighting seemed to have had died down. Nothing makes enemies drop their differences like almost being rubbed out by a prototype synoid with designs on killing everyone with a massive brain flash. But the fun wasn’t over yet. I had to destroy the orb, or we’d only have reruns of the same episode.
Which was hard to do with the New Man trying to kill me.
I managed to avoid a searing blast from his gauntlets by turning the corner at full speed. I immediately tumbled down a graceful winding stairway. Gold banisters and marble steps hurt as bad as the regular kind, but the bruises still felt better than burning alive. I didn’t even pause when I reached the bottom. I figured since I could still stagger forward then nothing was broken. The orb was still in my grip, turning my muscles to water.
I hit the nearest door with my shoulder and tumbled inside. It took me a minute for my eyes to adjust. I almost cried with relief when I saw where I was.
Turned out Mayor Beck was indeed quite the collector. In that case the room displayed his weapon compilation. From medieval times to my favorite era: the twenty-first century. The place was the size of a small museum. Had to have something I could use.
I heard the distinct sound of something extremely heavy coming down the stairs. Didn’t take a genius to realize the New Man was closing in. I ducked between two of the aisles. Good thing, too.
Because a double-bladed axe swung by right where my head was.
Captain Graves leaped over the aisle with athletic ease, toting the axe in one hand. His teeth were clenched in a misshapen grin. “Looks like we had the same idea. My biogun overheated. Damn labcoats can’t get anything right.”
The axe whirred like a willow switch in his hand. I managed to lean to the side, but the blade still whipped by close enough to shave off some of the stubble from my cheek. I managed to hang on to the orb, though I could hardly feel it in my hand. My entire arm had gone numb.
Graves was just getting warmed up.
“You double-crossed me, Mick.” The axe whistled, hungry for Trubble steaks. A display case exploded in a spray of glass and splintered wood as the blade crashed through it. “The unit I sent to the Goryachevas was cut to pieces. You tried to cancel your debt by warning them. Not a bad move. Too bad you won’t be alive to reap the benefits.”
My flogger was sliced cleanly as the blade missed my stomach by a hair’s breath. The axe slammed into a massive oak chest. The momentary distraction it took for him to yank the blade free was all I needed.
I punched him in the gut as he tilted off balance, and just for good measure kicked him right in his boys. I expected a metallic ring, but instead he squealed like an angry chipmunk as he went down. Guess he didn’t have balls of steel after all.
My second punch took him right in his meaty jaw. He moaned as he slumped backwards. I felt a tingling sensation in my fist, which I considered a good thing. At least I knew it was still attached to my arm.
Something glinted near my foot, almost making me slip. Assorted rounds had spilled across the floor from the shattered cases. They were scattered together, but my eyes immediately zoomed in on the one I needed.
A Gyroscope rocket.
In less time than it takes to tell it, I pulled the Replacement Killer out and loaded it. Graves had picked himself up by then, and shakily searched for a weapon. He shattered a glass case with his fists and seized a compound bow. He was pretty swift on arming it, but before he could notch the arrow I had him lined up in my sights.
“Don’t bother. On account of being dead and all.”
The impact of the rocket lifted Graves off his feet. He collided with a few cabinets before eating the floor. I didn’t feel too bad. When you walk around with the name ‘Graves’, it’s only a matter of time before someone sends you there.
Of course I didn’t get a lot of time to dwell on it. The wall to the side exploded inward, burying Graves in drywall and smoldering rubble.
Seemed the New Man didn’t believe in using doors.
His face was cloaked in shadows as he looked at me with gunmetal eyes. “You do not have the knowledge or power to destroy the orb. Give it to me, or I will kill you and take it.”
Seeing as how I was out of ammo yet again, I holstered the Killer and snatched up Captain Grave’s discarded battleaxe. Graves must’ve been in great shape because it was heavier than it looked, and hard to wield with one hand.
“You forget about the third option.”
I charged and slammed the axe with all my strength into the New Man’s chest. The vibration rippled from my wrist to shoulder from the impact of the blade against his armor. I had kinda forgotten about that. And about how large he was. I felt like a stepchild looking up at his abusive father.
His mercury eyes were disbelieving as he gazed at the axe stuck in his breastplate. When his gaze met mine, I managed a weak grin.
His punch knocked me about ten feet through the air.
Good thing a couple of glass display cases broke my fall, or I might have gotten hurt. Worse. As it was, the room flickered along with my consciousness as I tried to find where my head went. My limbs refused to cooperate, and I kept slipping back on the tiled floor.
It was over. My luck had finally run out, and I only had one card left.
The Joker.
I liked to keep the slim, prototype explosive on me at all times. It was last resort thing, something to use only when I knew I was about to buy the farm. A labcoat for the weapons division whipped it up as a personal thank you for saving his bacon a while back. It looked close enough to a playing card; only it packed the same power as a C4 explosive.