Page 216 of Red Scale Daddy
“Because I like you better alive.”
“Copy that.”
He scrambles forward in the dark. The emergency lights flicker once, weak and red, then die again.
The Reapers hit the junction like thrown shadows.
Roma fires first. The muzzle flash cuts the dark into brutal snapshots—one twisted limb, one open mouth, one slick armored body skittering over the wall. The smell of plasma discharge burns through the corridor, sharp and electric.
I fire beside her, aiming for the hottest center mass. The first Reaper folds but doesn’t drop, crashing into a bundle of hanging wires and tearing them down in a shower of sparks. The second lunges low.
Roma steps into it.
Of course she does.
“Roma!” I bark.
She pivots, slamming her elbow into the thing’s skull as it closes. It shrieks, a sound like metal peeling, and she drives her weapon under its jaw and fires. The recoil snaps her shoulder back, but she stays on her feet.
The third comes over the ceiling.
I catch it too late.
It drops between us and Pally, cutting him off.
Pally freezes. “Oh, come on.”
“Down!” I shout.
He drops flat with impressive obedience, and I fire over him. The shot clips the Reaper’s side, spinning it into the wall but not stopping it. Roma is already moving, but the first creature drags itself back up behind her.
Two problems. One Roma.
My blood goes cold.
She sees the calculation hit my face.
“Don’t,” she snaps.
I bare my teeth. “Then don’t make me.”
We move at the same time.
I slam into the first Reaper before it reaches her, shoulder first, the impact rattling my spine. It smells like rot under metal, a rancid oily stink that floods my mouth with bile. Its claws rake across my sleeve, catching armor, skidding close enough to kiss skin.
Roma shoots the one near Pally twice, driving it back.
Pally, bless his terrified heart, grabs a fallen conduit and swings it with both hands. “Get away from me, you nightmare crab!”
The conduit cracks across the Reaper’s head. It does not do much damage.
It does surprise the hell out of it.
Roma finishes it with a shot through the eye.
I wrestle mine against the wall, boots slipping, arms shaking. The thing snaps at my face, too many teeth flashing in the red flicker of dying light.
Then Roma is there.
