Elias's heart pounded as he yelled, "Hey, dumbass! I thought I was your target!"
The man paused, his head snapping toward Elias. Marcus beneath him gasped for breath, the pressure of the spike lifting slightly. A shot rang out, the bullet slamming into the man's helt and knocking loose pieces of armor. Blood splattered from the impact, and the man let out a guttural roar.
"I can't hold this anymore!" Dot's voice rang in Elias's mind, her strain palpable. "Do sothing!"
The man released Marcus and turned his full attention to Elias, crouching low like a predator ready to strike.
Elias tightened his grip on the flashlight, his mind racing. "Okay," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the chaos. "Blind him, sidestep, and take the shot."
As the man lunged, Elias flipped the flashlight to strobe mode, the rapid pulses of light disorienting the attacker. The man faltered mid-stride, crashing into a nearby wall with enough force to crack the concrete. Elias rolled to the side, raising the pistol he'd taken earlier.
"I always thought these were better than plasma rifles," Elias muttered, exhaling sharply before pulling the trigger.
The gunshot echoed through the tunnel, the bullet finding its mark and dropping the man to his knees. For a brief mont, relief washed over Elias. But it was short-lived.
The man's body convulsed, and the armor crumbled away like a discarded shell. From within, his form erged, bloodied and burned but alive. He moved with startling speed, sweeping Elias's legs out from under him. Elias hit the ground hard, the air forced from his lungs as the man grabbed him by the throat and slamd him back down.
Elias gasped, his vision swimming as the man lood over him, his grip tightening. "Your shard," the man growled, his voice guttural and raw. "It'll be better in my hands."
Through the haze, Elias saw a blade glinting in the man's other hand. The realization hit him like a freight train. He was out of options.
A sudden hum cut through the air, sharp and precise. A flash of light followed, and a clean slice severed the man's arm, freeing Elias from his grip. The man stumbled back, clutching the stump as a boot collided with his face, sending him flying into the opposite wall.
Elias coughed, his vision clearing just enough to see a figure step into view. Elara stood over him, dressed in sleek, form-fitting combat gear. Her rifle was slung across her back, a glowing blade in her hand. Behind her, four others in similar gear fanned out, their weapons raised and trained on the man.
Elias leaned heavily against the shattered remains of the bus as Elara's team fanned out, their movents crisp and deliberate. His hand instinctively went to his neck, massaging it as he tried to steady his breath. Blood sared his fingers from where the man had thrown him down earlier.
"Dot?" he rasped, his voice hoarse. "You okay? Why didn't blasting his head off work?"
Silence.
"Dot, co on!" Elias's voice cracked, panic creeping into his tone. "Are you okay?!"
Before Dot could answer—or if she even could—Elara cut him off sharply. "Stop talking to yourself and focus. Give a rundown of what happened."
Elias looked up at her, disoriented but trying to pull his thoughts together. "I... woke up after the bus ride, got so kind of offer from Geras—seed like the lesser evil at the ti. Then this guy shows up, wrecks the officer in charge of training, and starts coming after ." He shook his head, the mory of the fight flashing in his mind. "We fought. I managed to get a few hits in, but nothing seed to work. Then you showed up."
Elara's visor glinted faintly as she turned her head to glance at him. "You shot him point-blank in the head. Why didn't it work?"
"He's been pelted with..." Elias struggled to find the right words, motioning vaguely toward the recruits. "Whatever your plasma bullets are—6,000 degrees, maybe? Then I hit him with two revolver rounds straight to the skull, and he just shrugged it off. It's like..." He trailed off, shaking his head again. "I don't know. He's taken on this animalistic look and... attack pattern. But when I shot him, he reverted back—then nearly killed ."
Elara's brow furrowed beneath her helt. "Any idea who he's working with? What group he's affiliated with?"
"None," Elias admitted, slumping back against the bus fra. His ribs scread in protest, but he ignored the pain. "He didn't say much beyond demanding my shard."
Elara nodded once, the gesture curt and efficient. "Understood. Rest up. Your probably spent. We'll take it from here."
Reviews
All reviews (0)