Max Rage: Twelve Punches To Mars! by Jake Bible

Author:Jake Bible [Bible, Jake]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Severed Press
Published: 2018-12-02T22:00:00+00:00

Twenty-Five

Rage’s choice to try to skirt the mob and get back to his team was problematic to say the least. Mainly because all he ended up doing was running directly into a different mob. He’d been so preoccupied trying to figure out who hired whip tail that he didn’t factor in multiple mobs.

Mars was really fucking annoying.

He soon found himself standing atop a massive pile of bodies. Which wasn’t horrible since he got to kill a bunch of assholes and also got a sweet vantage point where he could see over the stalls and tents that separated him from his team. Although, one of the corpses was giving off a stink that was about to make Rage throw up. Probably a hairy Boopernit. Could be tufted, could be not tufted. Rage didn’t care. The thing stank to high heaven and that was all that mattered.

“Jesus,” he said. He covered his nose with the crook of his left arm as he tried to scan the area for signs of his team. “Come on, come on, come on…”

Nothing.

He spotted sixteen more mobs, but no sign of his people. He doubted they’d been taken out. Scutter was too good for that. Grup and Detective Labous were simply too much of a pain in Rage’s ass for the universe to take them out. Bill seemed like a survivor. Rasco was obviously a survivor since he could sprint faster than any one of them even without a head. Nice trick, that. Junior was Junior. Lord Sahndle was probably offended at the prospect of dying. Grandmaster Scunge was just so fucking weird that Rage wasn’t sure the alien worm could die.

Plus, the way the mobs were acting, Rage didn’t think they’d found fresh, non-crazy victims. They looked too chaotic to be doing anything other than ripping each other apart.

Rage activated his ocular implant, closed his opposite eye, and tried to dial in closer, but that wasn’t happening. All his implant did was give him a screaming headache. He switched it off and returned to normal vision.

“Damn it,” Rage snarled.

He put the rifle to his shoulder and zoomed in with the scope. That was a little better, but even that bit of tech was glitchy. Whatever Nargle Boof had done to the comms, he’d done to all surveillance oriented tech too. If Rage zoomed in too close to a Scorcher’s head, the face rec protocol shorted out and he was left with just a blurry image.

“What the hell?” he muttered.

There was movement down below and Rage lowered his rifle. He glanced down to see a mini-mob trying to climb the pile of corpses.

“Go away!” he shouted. “Get now, you ugly sons of bitches!”

The various aliens and humans hissed and screeched at him. Rage put his rifle to work and took care of the distraction. He even managed to kill all thirty-one of the beings with only twenty-six shots. Not his personal best, but pretty darn good for a crap ass day.

Then something caught his eye on the horizon.

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