Stray Cat Strut Chapter Seventy-Four - Sprint

Chapter Seventy-Four - Sprint

Being on coms ans providing the information that will keep people alive

[...]

You can generally tell when sothing has gone wrong when the people at the other end start swearing incoherently.

--Excerpt from a Guide to Warti Communications, 2045

***

I think the only reason I didnt get myself dead was because the monster was expecting as much as I was expecting it.

The Model Thirteen was hovering close to the ground, a few of its tentacles holding it up while its much smaller tentacles were reaching out ahead of it. At a guess, it felt as if it was searching for sothing, like looking for sothing by touch when the lights are off.

Had it noticed before? Or maybe it was just suspicious.

It didnt matter. The alien was definitely staring at with all three of its faces.

I pulled my Claw up and fired, barely even making sure that the reticule was lined up with one of its bodies.

A whip-crack sounded out and I felt as if soone had just punched right in the chest.

Id gotten into trouble once. A bunch of middle-class looking assholes had been visiting the ground-level, and they started to annoy Lucy and a couple of the other kids. They probably wouldnt do anything, just so older teens being assholes.

Of course, I was filled with more nerves than sense back then, and I wanted to impress Lucy, so I started a fight with them.

The sensation of all the air in my lungs being ramd out of them was hard to forget.

I saw a glimr in the air as my coats shield thing stopped a few more tendrils whipping out at , but it was only a glimpse before I crashed down a few tres back and rolled.

Guns, I gasped.

My shoulder-mounted weapons deployed and imdiately fired.

A railgun shot tore a hole through one of the Model Thirteens bodies, but that barely made it hitch before it drove itself forwards.

Shit!

I rolled back.

With my cloaks still on, it would--I hoped--have a better chance dodging the whips, and rolling would get further back.

Problem was, while rolling I wasnt firing back. My plasma caster took so potshots, but it kept folding back in not to stop my roll.

The Model Thirteen lood large above , the hardened ends of its larger tentacles crashing into the ground.

I gasped as one of them ramd in the side. It didnt pierce through my coat, and my undersuit hardened, stopping it from crushing .

Still hurt like a bitch, and it had effectively pinned in place.

I placed my Claw against the limb and fired, then I fired again and again. I imagined that having a tentacle filled with a few spinning blenders wasnt great for the Model Thirteen.

I tugged my coat out from under it with one arm, while aiming up with my Claw.

My railgun fired into one of its bodies, so I aid at the one next to it and fired my Claw until a warning filled my vision.

OUT OF AMMO

Fuck!

My plasma caster painted a line of burning fire into the Model Thirteens other body, even as the Antithesis leapt away from and clung to the ceiling. It began to scurry around, avoiding bullets with a speed and agility that was really starting to piss off.

I dropped my Claw, tore my Trench Maker from my coat, and started to stand.

Its tentacles bunched up under it and the alien launched itself at , smaller whips already cracking as they shot at .

I had ti to plant two shots into one of its bodies before it crashed into and we both crashed back.

Fighting it off, I wiggled and struggled and cursed until I realised that it wasnt fighting back.

Target Eliminated!

Reward: 100 points

New Total: 2446 point

I panted for a bit, then squeezed out from under the Model Thirteens corpse.

You might want to hurry. The hive is now aware of you.

Yeah, I said.

I stumbled to my feet. A bit sore, but not dead, and not injured as far as I could tell.

That might not stay the case. The hive was... changing. The trees were shifting, the egg sacs were nearly all falling down, regardless of how ready the models within were, and all of those other models looked agitated as hell, with a whole load of them heading my way.

I tucked my Trench Maker away, ran over to pick up my Claw, then tugged my Icarus out. Fragntation. I said.

I fired, again and again, with a high arc that had my shots landing right in the at of the hive and near so packs of Model Threes. Then I let my big gun slip back down so that it hung by its strap and I started running.

Not away from the aliens, but towards them.

I was still stealthed, and my augs said that my cloak and coat and suit were all still at 100%. I trusted them.

The mont I was back in the main room of the hive I turned a sharp right and continued running. A few Model Threes, those nearest the tunnel mouth, shot into the mineshaft Id just left. Good.

The Model Thirteens detaching themselves from their trees with loud squelches didnt inspire confidence. If one could find ...

I ran past the last side-tunnel I hadnt explored. Bomb, I hissed before underhanding the canister into the passage. That would have to do for whatever was down there.

I dropped another beside , then I flung one at the centre of the hive, and winced as about four different sorts of aliens jumped on it and started scrambling at the canister.

I was breathing hard as I shot past aliens, moving just a few tres past them and hoping they wouldnt notice.

If they did, then I had to hope that there was enough chaos around to keep them busy.

Myalis, I hissed. Cats. Three of them. Not in a box!

Certainly!

The thumps sounded out, one after each step I took. A glance back revealed three cha cats unfolding to their full height. Then it was two as a Model Thirteens whip smashed one of them apart.

The other two jumped back, plasma claws burning and back-mounted guns unfolding to spray bullets all over the place. They didnt even need to aim to hit an alien, there were so many scrambling after .

The hives attention turned on them, and I pressed myself to move faster.

Maybe cardio really was a good idea.

I flicked another canister to the side. The more fire, the better, I figured.

A Model Thirteen dropped from the ceiling ahead of and I cursed as I whipped out my Trench Maker.

I emptied the magazine into its centremost body, and my Railgun unfolded to punch a hole into the leftmost. My plasma gun spat fire at the third, blinding it for long enough that I was able to duck under one of its tentacles and could continue running.

I wasnt the only one running. All the little models were rushing about, and the sacs on the side were being torn open from the inside.

Model Tens were zipping around all over, and I swore as one of them jumped at , all six limbs trying to grab at the sa ti.

I punched it, but it caught my hand.

So I finally got to use the plasma claws in my cybernetic hand, the inch-long burning nails lting into the model before I flung its corpse aside.

One of them jumped onto my back, and I swiped it off with my tail, the plasma thagomizer on the end of my tail batting it aside.

I was losing the advantage I had from my stealth.

I need grenades. Garrotes! Just keep giving more!

I caught the first to appear and flung it over my shoulder after thumbing the trigger on it. It started to blend the models behind .

Three more tossed back the sa way helped, and I started to underhand so ahead of , trying to place them around the entrance of the tunnel Id co into the Hive from. My railgun was spinning and firing, my plasma gun hissing as a rejoinder.

The garrote grenades, with their wildly spinning ss of whippy wires, created a narrow passage, one that I squeezed through before turning around and tugging my Trench Maker out again.

I planted a few rounds into the first aliens through the crack, at least until I clicked empty.

I cursed, spun on a heel, and bolted down the centre of the tunnel.

The garrotes wouldnt last forever, and the passage between was big enough for plenty of models to pass through.

I had to get out of the AOE of my gas bombs so I could burn this entire place to the ground.

Totally starting to sympathize with Gomorrahs love of burning shit.

***