Ravenor 3 - Rogue by Warhammer

Author:Warhammer [Warhammer]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

114

Head down, yapping softly, another of the things stepped towards her along the walkway.

115

THREE

The House shook and staggered. There was an echoing boom from above them, and then another.

Plyton was thrown off her perch. She landed hard on the dock’s decking and rolled several times.

She almost pitched off into the water.

“What the hell was that?” Lucic was demanding, ripping out his link. Bum-face had been thrown

onto the deck too. He got up, angry.

“Give me that!” he snarled.

Her arms shaking, Plyton pulled herself up. Down in the dock pool, the water was slopping

feverishly. The underboat was straining at its chains, bucking in the icy froth. The chains creaked

and pulled. The House shook again — a deep, ugly lurch — and the boat bucked more furiously The

hanging chains swished and shook. Ice crackled down into the washing swell.

“Worna? Worna!” bum-face yelled into the link.

There was no response.

“Worna?”

Plyton ploughed into them both from behind. Lucic fell and hit his head against a fuel drum.

Burn-face tried to turn, but she slammed her fist into the side of his head repeatedly.

They landed hard. The bounty hunter’s carbine hit the decking and slithered out of reach. He

rolled, tucked his legs up and savagely kicked her in the torso with both feet.

Winded, gasping, Plyton flew backwards through the air. She smashed into some of the dangling

chains and managed to grab one.

She was still travelling. Momentum turned her into a pendulum. Hanging from the chain, she

soared out over the pool. Thrashing ice water sloshed ten metres below her.

Plyton clung on. The chain swung her back over the dock. Burn-face had rolled onto his knees,

and she kicked out at him, but missed, as she swung past. He was reaching for the fallen carbine.

She swung back, missing him again, dangling out above the churning pool at the extremity of

her backswing. Her hands had locked up, turned to aching numbness by the touch of the chain loops.

She swung in for a second time. Burn-face had risen, dodging her sweeping form as it came in.

He rolled hard and came up with her Tronsvasse in his hands as she swept back again.

He grinned as he fired it at her. The weapon dry clicked. He hadn’t reloaded it since stripping it

down.

She swung past him, her momentum diminishing. Then the House staggered again and wrenched

her around furiously, jerking her up over the pool with such violence her chain became slack for a

second.

Burn-face rolled again, diving for the fallen carbine. She sailed down at him and struck him

hard. Plyton viced her dangling legs around him and carried him on with her.

Burn-face smashed head-first into an oil drum.

He fell away from her, his neck snapped, and slammed onto the dock.

Plyton let go of the chain and fell hard.

Dazed, she rose and glanced around. Burn-face’s corpse lay face down on the grilled deck. Lucic

had vanished. She stumbled forward and picked up the bounty hunter’s lascarbine.

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