Cyberpunk 2077: V

Chapter 50: Red

V didn't think. With the cry of a scared little girl, she brought up her revolver and emptied the cylinder.

BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!

As V's finger squeezed off shot after shot, the psycho dodged each bullet with unnatural, jarring movements, and suddenly, he was on her. V barely managed to throw herself backward in time as the psycho brought his rifle to bear, filling the space where she had been crouching a millisecond before with bullets. She rolled over her shoulder and up to her feet, immediately cutting to the left to zig-zag through old railcars, almost snapping her ankle in half when she stepped into a rail rut set in the synthcrete. Dipping and weaving, she slid to a crouch beside a particularly rusted railcar closest to the concrete walls of the yard, hiding behind the huge metal wheels.

Panic pushed her breath out of her lungs in short gasps, and V felt stars and darkness press at the edges of her vision. She tried to get her breathing under control, a hand rising to her chest to feel her heart attempting to beat its way out of  her skin.

Jackie, I need Jackie! her mind finally managed to think, and V immediately pulled up her phone HUD.

An error message popped up. 

SERVICE UNAVAILABLE

V stared at the words until they disappeared, feeling the sudden urge to cry well up in her throat.

She pressed her back against the corroded metal of the railcar wheels and took a long, deep breath. Sweat stung her eyes. V lifted shaking fingers to her forehead to wipe it away and flinched when she heard the sound of chrome feet  at the edge of her hearing.

Every muscle in her body froze when she heard a low chuckle echo through the abandoned railcars. It was dark and lilting, like something out of a nightmare.

"I fooouuunnnd yooouuu," the psycho crooned.

His voice made V feel sick. It was disturbingly playful, and underneath it—V wasn't sure if it was just a trick of her terrified mind—there was a strange second voice. A faint, breathy, feminine whisper woven through the bass of his words.

V felt empty and hot, like she had a fever. She knew that right then that her survival relied on this psycho not finding her. If he did—if V had to look at those burning pink-red eyes festering with some primal hate again—she knew she would die.

Silently, she slid her revolver back into its holster, not willing to risk the noise of reloading it. V's hand moved down to grip the hilt of her black sword, a cooling comfort spreading into her hand at the touch. Her constant. Her anchor.

Suddenly, there was the bang of something hitting a far-off railcar. Then came the sound of tearing metal, followed by a rattle and a loud smash. The psycho must have been searching for her, tearing through the containers piece by piece. Another rusty screech of a train car door sliced through the air, followed by a slam.

"Took me so very, very long to find you..." the psycho's voice sang out again.

Another crash and whine of twisted metal. He was moving faster now. Getting closer.

Sweat dripped down V's forehead and off the edge of her chin. She tried calling Jackie again.

SERVICE UNAVAILABLE

A shiver ran down V's spine when she heard another sound—a soft, whispering slither of something moving across rough synthcrete. V swallowed and looked just past the huge wheel she was hiding behind, peering under the belly of the railcar.

She saw two chrome feet slowly walking into view, followed by a long, bright red cable dragging on the ground. It looked like the cable that had been jacked into the psycho's skull earlier. He was still plugged in.