Cracked Screens : A Cyberpunk Saga (Book 6) by Matthew A. Goodwin

Author:Matthew A. Goodwin [Goodwin, Matthew A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-02-13T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

Moss didn’t waste any time. He blasted his body forward, grabbing the gun as it discharged into the ceiling. As always seemed to happen with new technology, this next-generation Demidos was no longer state-of-the-art. Someone had cracked the code, and now it no longer provided the invisibility it once did. Of course, he had to find out this way.

The elf headbutted him and he turned to take it on the cheek. Santa had grabbed Patchwork by the throat, but he had misjudged the real threat and Issy had wheeled a roundhouse kick that had landed squarely on the side of his head.

Moss staggered back, still gripping the beam gun and pointed it away from his body. The elf fired again, the heat of the weapon burning his hands through his gloves before the bolt blasted a chunk out of the wall, spraying the two of them with dust and debris.

As Moss charged shoulder-first toward the elf, Issy popped over the counter, knocking Santa to the ground. He, too, pulled out a gun and wildly fired a burst, bullets spraying throughout the building. He wasn’t seeing straight and missed; Issy dodged easily out of the way as Patchwork ducked. Patch’s eye went black and the digital toys around the store began hopping off the shelves, making their way quickly toward Santa.

Issy leapt through the door, pulling the elf off Moss and throwing her against the wall. Santa began shooting at the toys as they moved around him. Fluff, stuffing, and electronics exploded all over the room, but there were too many of them. Large, small, loud and quiet, the toys jumped all over Santa, stabbing, poking and generally assaulting him. He screamed and thrashed as the toys began to destroy him.

The elf tried to kick Issy, but she blocked it with ease and landed a punch right on her nose. Moss pulled the Kingfisher from his Dermidos and blasted the elf. She slumped to the ground as Patchwork made his way back to them.

“One helluva Black Friday stampede there,” he joked, hooking a thumb in the direction of the destroyed Santa.

Issy made a face. “Poor taste.”

“Yeah,” Patchwork admitted, “I think I’ve been listening to too much Rude Von ‘Tude.”

“Still hard to believe he’s on our side,” Issy observed.

“Being on the side of right and being a good person are not the same thing,” Moss noted.

This had been a hard-learned lesson for him and this time, for some reason, he saw it coming. Closing his eyes, he braced for the mental impact. He felt the strike from inside his brain but didn’t let it knock him down. He gritted his teeth, balled his fists and felt it, but didn’t allow it to best him.

Exhaling slowly, he was happy he was wearing a mask so that neither of the other two could tell what just happened. But Issy was still looking at his dust-covered form with a look of concern. He knew he would hear about this later.

Pulling off the mask, he said, “Okay, we gotta keep moving.

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