the killer and the child

I let my weight fall against the glowing blue pillar, long red strips of blinking lights lined the metal floor and led from one giant door to the other. I clenched my jaw and felt my left leg, the knee was a little swollen and the tendon running down the side seemed to twist the bone like an over wrung spring.

Guess that's what you get for letting your guard down for a moment, look down one corridor but forget to look down the other, a flash of light and a hollow thump and it took all your dexterity to jump out of the way of the bolo. Falling on your side you leg caught on the other and you couldn't stop the cry from breaking through your lips.

Abigail was waiting in the corridor behind, watching the door with a deadly seriousness, she said she had sensed a mind through the red hall. Now here we are against the pillar breathing heavy and wearing a torn and bloody tuxedo. The monolith skyscraper that pierced the heavens a good mile above the facility itself was the kind of place you couldn't get near without an access pass and a decent looking suit.

It was a fortunate thing that Caligula had opted to assist in our sojourn or the twisting hallways would have swallowed me and the girl up like a metal hydra. Plus Abigail was doing her best to stop any guards before they became a problem, but she was getting tired and that meant some things had to be done the old fashioned way.

Sliding from my sleeve into my shaking hand I snapped the baton open and spun around the pillar, keeping my body as low to the ground as possible, the black garbed man walked away from me, oblivious to my presence. A simple swing and he was on his face, shallow breath fogging the parallel red lines.

I jerked the Velcro straps that held his vest to his leather shirt and inspected the dark blue armor. Bucky carbon, coupled with a sophisticated motion sensor, a small dedicated computer would detect the approaching object and stiffen the Bucky carbon, layers upon layers of nano-sheets that could repel even the sharpest flachette.

His rifle and pistol where most likely tuned to his DNA resonance but just in case I flipped the long barreled gun across my back and unsnapped his short pistol from it's sheath on his upper thigh. Inspecting the checkered grip I saw no green sensor bar, lucky me a free gun.