Short story collection

Tin Man - Part 4

The Badlands. A harsh desert that surrounded Night City. In the 2020s, constant drought ravaged the state of California. Not only was most of it now dry plains, but they've become almost lawless.
   A massive pillar of fire was off in the distance, created by an oil rig turning the sky black with its constantly spewing black gold. In the middle of the day, it was an eyesore, and at night it was one of the few spectacles the Badlands had to offer.
   Two factions met within the Badlands. One a group of people who were menaces to Night City, the Scavs. Their need to constantly strip people of their implants for a quick buck made their business partner for the day jumpy.
   The other faction consisted of outcasts and exiles. The Wraiths. Their origins were unknown as they'd left everything from their old families and tribes behind.
   The two groups met where the burning oil fields cast a shadow over them both. And when their noses wrinkled from the smell and sweat covered their faces, one of them had to step forward and ask.
   "What's so special about this place?" One large and easily irritable Wraith scoffed. "And why now?? Couldn't this have waited until tonight?"
   "The fuck you mean?" A short but jumpy Scav asked. His teeth were grit, showing off the silver finish on his jaw he no doubt stole.
   "I mean let's get to it." The Wraith sighed. "I'm fucking dying out here."
   "No no no." The Scav waved his pistol about, bringing tension between half a dozen men and women. "You picked this place. So don't have a fucking attitude with me."
   "What?" The Wraith frowned with a double take at the others. "I... You texted the deets, choom."
   Confusion veiled over them until it dawned on them with collective glances and twitchy fingers.
   "Oh hell no..." The Scav turned and made a brisk walk for his car; a trash heap befitting their reputation.
   A shrieking bullet sailed overhead and snapped near those standing close enough to it. To the Wraith he knew exactly what it was.
   "Shit!" He ducked behind his truck; a more modest but powerful vehicle capable of handling the harsh terrain and rowdy populace.
   With his back planted against the rim of his truck and his comrades doing the same behind their vehicles, he looked back to the Scav in horror.
   What he knew was a bullet had ripped the smaller man in half. He'd been split from the hip down, leaving blood to pool and slither along the ground like a river. His car didn't fare too well either. He suspected the axel had been snapped like a twig. Whoever was hunting them had the gear to rip through the toughest armor available.
   The remaining Scavs made a run for it, scattering into the desert while firing their weapons wildly.
   "Nash." One of the Wraiths whispered as if their assailant could hear her. "Nash!"
   "I'm thinking!" Nash wasn't sure what to do. The whistling, destructive ammunition, and delayed boom meant it was an armor-piercing, high-velocity round fired from well over a mile away. And given their surroundings, the sniper had to have been more than four miles away.
   "L-look." A younger member pointed to the Scavs who ran. They weren't going to make it far without water but considering they still had signal, they could call for help of their own.
   "Great." Nash sighed, rolling his eyes.
   "What?" The young man said. "What is it?"
   "Either this guy's a fucking psychopath and wants them to run, or he's after us."
   "Us?!" The younger woman hissed. "Don't you mean you?! We didn't do shit!"
   "Alright, I get it." Nash raised a calming hand. "Arguing won't get us anywhere. Right now we need to call the others up and they'll—"
   Nash's eyes flashed amber with an incoming call. But much to his dismay, it was an unknown number with no caller ID. And to drive the stake further into his chest, the voice that greeted him was more than familiar.
   "You have something that belongs to my client." A digital voice said calmly.
   "Tin Man." Nash grit his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut. The voice was familiar but he had to ask and pray it wasn't him. "That you?"
   "In the flesh." He sounded almost amused to say, making Nash punch the metal chassis of his truck.
   "Whatcha got there?" He couldn't help himself asking.
   "A Nekomata..."
   Suddenly, Nash didn't feel so safe behind all this armor.
   Tsunami Defense Systems is a Japanese manufacturer known for their quality of arms. They rank as one of the top four weapon manufacturers in the world, and they shine in and out of combat with their Tech weapons. Or more specifically, their sniper rifles.
   The name Nekomata made Nash suck air through his teeth. The Nekomata wasn't only an electromagnetically-charged weapon, but a technological marvel capable of firing a tungsten spike at over twice the speed of sound.
   If there was anyone in Night City that would have such a weapon, it would be Tin Man.
   "Alright..." Nash swallowed through a dry mouth. "What is it?" I'll hand it over right now, swear to god I will."
   "Can't do that." The cold and robotic voice made his blood run cold. "My client was very... insistent about their safety. How many people have you stolen from in the last month?"
   "A-a lot." Nash stammered.
   "Leave everything in the truck." Tin Man instructed. "I'll be taking that as well."
   "You gotta be shitting me..." Nash gave a stifled curse and punched the air.