Shadowrun: On the Rocks by Russell Zimmerman

Author:Russell Zimmerman [Zimmerman, Russell]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Publisher: Catalyst Game Labs

14

“Hey, guys,” I started to say, sitting on my butt in the hallway, “I got two perps down but stable, and, hey, don’t worry, I disarmed one of them!”

Or, y’know, something clever like that.

Instead, I got out “hey, g—” before the first stick-and-shock round hit me. The first. Two more came down the hallway at me, and a second later my zapped-stiff body caught a combat boot to the face and I was down in a heap.

“Don’t—” I managed to slur out, saving both of their lives, just before one of them fell atop me and blasted the air from my lungs.

Ariana snarled, but had to obey.

The one on top of my had absolutely no interest in handcuffing me, he just drove his fist into my liver three or four times while screaming at me to stop resisting, and then his buddy got there and told me to stop resisting, too, kicking me from the other side. Eventually I stopped getting hit so hard I wiggled, and they figured I was complying, so it was time for some too-tight zipties and for the second deputy to wrench me up by the hands cuffed behind my back, just so he could slam me face-first against the wall to my own apartment.

The first deputy yelled into what I assumed was a headware radio (instead of a psychotic break) about 10-23, 10-16, 10-31, 10-32, 10-33, and 10-52.

He was new to policing, I guess. He’d arrived on the scene, called it a domestic dispute, warned about a crime in progress by a man with a gun, called it an emergency, and let dispatch know they needed an ambulance.

“Shit, why not 10-34, too, call it a riot while yo—hng!”

I caught a kidney punch for my smart mouth, and remembered how much all of this fucking hurts. Years with Sideways stuck in my system, filling my bloodstream with endorphins and dulling my pain receptors, had really, really spoiled me. My body was still struggling to make sense of the awful damage it had just taken and then had magically removed, and now this new wave of brutality piled discomfort atop discomfort.

“I didn’t 10-95 yet, drekhead, so just keep running your mouth.” First deputy leaned in real close while second deputy kept me pinned against the wall. Like, real close. “Didn’t tell anyone you’re in custody. It’s not too late for me to tell ’em about an officer-involved shooting, shoot some daylight into you, then just call in a 10-45.”

Animal carcass. Cute.

“Animal carcass,” I mumbled, face full of wall. “Cute.”

That got me another punch, but I chuckled past the pain on this one.

“Funny joke. Laugh now,” the first deputy hissed at me.

“Hey, did you have Big Mike’s for lunch? Great mustard, that guy, best hot dogs in to—nngh!”

They turned me around so I could get a better look at their ugly grins, and my headware immediately started to shoot me pop-ups from facial recognition hits.

Aw, hell.

Zielinski, Ernest, aka Ernie Zero, aka Ernie Zip. Home-grown street muscle and

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