Crack in the Kill Code (AmpCore #2)

48 - Killshot

The lights went out.

Kirk found himself groping through darkness, trying to make out Targe's big body up ahead of him. The thunder of the rifle had long since receded, and any hope of Detective Doser somehow surviving this hell along with it.

The corps must've found the generator. He suspected the gear their attackers were packing included some pretty high-end night vision. The kill-teams didn't need light to finish the job.

"Shit, shit," Nevay snarled as she scurried along in front of them. Her implanted eye seemed able to pierce the gloom enough for her to carry on. Kirk blundered after her, panic beginning to rise up in his throat.

Then a tepid yellow glow lit up their section of the passage. Up ahead he saw Holly Lockley, amplifier raised to generate a nimbus of light. The AmpCore agent was still bleeding from the shoulder, but she ignored it, moving to the head of the column.

"Follow me," she hissed through gritted teeth.

Kirk started moving again, but he felt the grip on his jacket slip away. He started to turn, dreading what he might find there. Visions of Treysi's body finally giving out under the strain flashed in his mind.

He needn't have worried. She looked oddly peaceful in the dim light.

"You okay?" he ventured.

"I... I think so," she replied quietly as they shuffled onwards. "Doesn't hurt so bad. Feels like I've got my... what's that phrase? Sea legs?"

"You're getting use to the cybernetics?"

"Better than I was. Legs feel steady." She shrugged. "And I think I can see in the dark."

"Well, whoop-dee-fucking-doo for you," Nevay growled. "Think you can shoot a gun?"
Treysi blinked, hesitating. "I ... well I'm not..."

"Then shut up and move."

Kirk resisted the urge to rebuke the gang leader. There would be a time to tell her what an unbelievable bitch she could be sometimes. Instead, he turned to Tresyi and flashed her a quick thumbs up. They continued on, the sounds of fighting in the hideout slowly but surely dying out. Kirk had no idea if anyone else was going to walk out of the place alive

When they reached the maintenance crawlway, Kirk at least tried to console himself with the thought that Doser hadn't died for nothing. At least they would get out. After groping around for a moment for a hidden catch, Targe wrenched the plain slab of metal loose, revealing a boxy tunnel just wide enough for them to crawl through in single file.

"Everybody in," Nevay told them, stuffing Doser's revolver into her belt and following him inside. Holly ducked in next, her amplifier still giving out a tepid glow to illuminate the claustrophobic space.

"Go," Kirk urged Treysi forward. "I'll be right behind you."

She crouched down, her metal feet biting into the floor plates as she levered herself inside. Chancing a glance over his shoulder, Kirk tucked his pistol close and clambered in after her. Twisting his body awkwardly, with his free hand he dragged the plate back into place over the mouth of the crawlway, shutting them inside. Then he rolled over and started wriggling his way along after the others.

Behind them, an eerie quiet descended, punctuated by the occasional solitary gunshot. Nobody spoke. The only sound in the metal confines was the heavy breathing of the ragtag band, and the odd muffled thump as they squirmed their way around corners. Nevay led them upwards, navigating the emergency access shafts until they reached a thick, sealed grate, its surface smeared with rust. He could see the faint tingle of lights beyond it.