Death Ship by Michael-Scott Earle

Author:Michael-Scott Earle [Earle, Michael-Scott]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Michael-Scott Earle
Published: 2018-01-20T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

The world was coming apart at the seams. The falling tower behind me groaned as the upper half of the structure gave into the hungry grasp of gravity. The mass accumulator’s crushing weight shattered the tower’s support structures and snapped the tall building right across its middle. The upper floors had fallen in a deadly arc toward the spire. This brought the twins and me within jump belt range of where our target was holed up, just as I’d planned.

The guards we’d left behind, however, weren’t so fortunate. As the tower tilted toward parallel, the terrorists slid across the atrium and tumbled over the guardrail and fell screaming toward the distant ground.

If my jump belt didn’t kick in soon, I’d be joining them.

Bullets and blasts of energy from the guards occupying the central spire’s defensive posts ripped through the surrounding air. A few of the bastards carried portable rocket launchers and lobbed short-range missiles at the surviving Screamers. Blossoms of fire exploded overhead and rained sulfurous tendrils of smoke on those of us stupid enough to be caught in this castle-turned-deathtrap.

Worst of all, the central spire’s landing pad, where the twins and I were headed, was crowded with gray-clad guards armed pointing a terrifying variety of shooty things at the remnants of my fireteam.

It was fucking insanity. It was chaos, violence, and danger. It was war.

I loved it, but I just kept falling.

Look up, Avatar.

Shit, that was right. I’d briefly glanced at the ground after jumping, and now the jump belt didn’t know what to do with itself. I raised my eyes to stare at the landing pad and strained my arms toward it, hoping the jump belt would get the picture and fire its rockets or whatever the fuck it used for propulsion. I needed it to stop my fall, right fucking then, before I became another pulp smear on the ground below.

Lon and Won, much more experienced and agile than I, didn’t have the same trouble with their jump belts. After a half-second’s fall, they vaulted into the air in a smooth arc toward the landing pad. I watched with envy as their toes touched gracefully on its guardrail and they somersaulted over the heads of the surprised guards. Ribbons of blood sprayed from wounded guards as the twins continued their deadly work. Lon slit the throats of two guards during his somersault, and his twin had practically decapitated two more before he landed behind the shooters.

I strained toward them, begging my jump belt to kick in.

I told you this was a terrible idea, Avatar. All of my time and energy wasted because you were impetuous and unable to calculate the simple odds of success.

There was a faint humming sound at the back of my head, and every hair on my body rose on end as a wave of static electricity passed through my armor.

The jump belt kicked in, I rose in a smooth arc toward my target. Despite the terrifying fall a few moments before, it was hard to feel anything but exhilaration as I flew through the air.

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