Neon City: A Cyberpunk Trilogy by Adam J Smith

Author:Adam J Smith [Smith, Adam J]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-05-05T22:00:00+00:00

The driver appeared from the other side of the marble floor, rushing up from a hidden stairwell. “Take cover!” he shouted, and was then thrown forward across the marble as an explosion blasted behind him. Black smoke and flame swirled up into the oval rafters. Slay had been around a few explosions before now, but never one so loud: every acoustic angle seemed to bore it into her, penetrating her eardrums. She could barely hear Deke’s instruction over the bells; he pointed towards a nearby sculpture-cum-bench – it looked sturdy enough – and she dived behind it. The smell of ash infiltrated her nostrils, and dust fell all around. It was tough to breathe shallowly with her heart pounding and her lungs panting. So she didn’t even try. She could cough it all back up later.

A few metres over, Deke was poised behind another ornate bench, weapon trained on the hidden stairwell. The smoke was almost gone now, which meant no fire, at least not yet. The driver, she noticed suddenly, had scrambled towards Deke. Bleeding from the ears, he too had his weapon drawn, though it was unlike any she had seen before.

“I counted four bodies!” he shouted. “In tactical gear. All with rifles and some kind of projectile explosives!” His arm was pointed ahead with the weapon in his grip, the stock of which seemed to fit snug in the crook of his elbow. The barrel swivelled independently, tilting left, right, up and down. She then spotted the laser emitting from the driver’s bionic eye, directed towards the opposite side.

“What kind of gun is that?” shouted Deke, unable to hide the awe in his voice.

Focus, thought Slay.

“Laser guided aiming! Wherever I look, it hits!”

“And to think I spend all those hours in the shooting range!”

“Hey, guys! Can we keep our focus please?!” she called out.

The driver answered, “The lift is disengaged and this is the only way up! We have the advantage!”

Something shot into the air from the stairwell; it flung out copters and hovered there, stationary. A gun barrel unfolded and began scanning the room. A red dot appeared on it and a moment later, explosive rounds from the driver’s weapon tore into it, shredding it into metallic porridge. Sparks flew as it clattered off a railing and rained pieces across steps and floor.

“That was a dummy,” said the driver quickly. “Next time there will be more than one. They scan for heat, so if they fire, you duck!”

And as if on cue, one, two, three, four, five – enough already – six, seven, eight of the things appeared in the air, spreading their wings. They had a similar arsenal in their own weapons locker back at Central PD, but those turret drones were manual, not automatic. Deemed too unreliable as they were unable to discern civilian from threat. Seemed like these might consider everyone a threat.

They fired, and managed to knock four of them from the sky before the infrared pinpointed their position and bullets began to hail down around them.

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