Chapitre 13: Big Iron
I took a sharp corner at the end of the block, nearly losing my footing on the slick pavement. My right shoulder throbbed with every jarring step, and a dull heat radiated beneath my jacket where the bullet was lodged. The scavs had been on my tail for three blocks, snapping off rounds from battered pistols and shotguns. All I knew was I had to keep moving or I'd end up another gory trophy for these psychos.
I ducked behind a stack of rusted cargo crates lined up against a warehouse wall. My breath came in ragged bursts, adrenaline making me lightheaded. I exhaled and forced myself to calm down enough to reload. The Militech M-10AF Lexington with its shiny new silencer felt reassuring in my hand, Rebecca knew her guns well. She had tried to get me a shotgun but at the shooting range, I ended up on my ass from the knockback, which she ended up laughing her ass off much to my embarrassment.
A chunk of concrete exploded inches above my head, sending debris clattering onto my back. Grit scraped my face as I leaned forward, hissing in pain. My shoulder screamed in protest.
"Fuck," I muttered under my breath, pressing a hand over the wound. I could feel the sticky warmth of blood seeping between my fingers. The bullet hadn't gone all the way through, probably lodged in the bone or near it. I didn't have the time or gear to dig it out.
Another round whistled past, striking the crates behind me with a dull thud. I bit down on my lip to keep from gasping as a fresh wave of pain seized me. That was too close, way too close. The scavs were spreading out, trying to flank me.
I rose, half-crouched, and fired two quick shots around the corner, hoping to buy myself some room. One of them yelped, and I heard cursing in a language I couldn't place. Good. At least I'd tagged one. I ducked back, as my ears rang from the gunfire, and the smell of hot metal and cordite clung to my nostrils.
I risked a glance around the edge of the crates. Two scavs were advancing, stepping over trash and broken glass as they came closer. Their faces were hidden behind ragged masks, eyes glittering with that sick glee scavs always had. They must've recognized me from the last time when I'd put one of theirs in the ground after they butchered that poor family for their organs. One day, I'd like to say I'd grown numb to it, but I still felt sick. Even more reason I wasn't letting them take me. Not alive, not dead, not at all.
"Come on out, choom," one of them called, voice dripping with false sweetness. "We just want to talk."
"Yeah, talk," another rasped, snapping a fresh shell into his shotgun. "We'll make it quick, promise."
I clenched my jaw. They were trying to rattle me. Didn't matter. I eased behind cover. My jacket felt heavy, saturated with the sticky warmth of my blood. The edges of my vision were starting to fuzz, but I refused to keel over yet.
Closing my eyes for half a second, I forced myself to focus on how I'd handle the next move. A quick pop-up from my optics told me I had half a clip left. That was enough for a short burst if they rushed me. After that, I'd be forced to go close with my knife. The thought made me swallow hard.
I heard footsteps pounding on concrete, someone charging. I pivoted, leveled my gun, and squeezed off three shots. Muzzle flashes lit up the alley. One scav went down, shrieking as a bullet tore through his thigh, chest and finally his throat. Another scrambled back, returning wildfire that pinged off the metal crates. A shard of ricochet nipped my ear; a split-second sting and then wet warmth trickled down my neck. Great. Another gash.
Before I could reposition, I heard shouting behind me. Different voices. Heavy footsteps, but not scavs, not by the sound of it. Then I heard the sweet staccato thunder of an assault rifle. Whoever it was opened up on the scavs from the opposite end of the alley, pinning them between us. The scavs yelled in surprise, and I felt a flicker of hope flare in my gut.
"¡Hijo de puta!" one of the scavs cursed, now on the defensive. Gunfire erupted from that unknown backup, falling at least two scavs. I flinched at the deafening noise echoing between the buildings, but I wasn't about to complain about fresh reinforcements.
I scrambled to my feet, ignoring the white-hot spike in my shoulder. Taking advantage of the confusion, I pivoted around the crates and fired at a scav creeping behind me. He jerked backward in a spray of blood, crumpling to the ground. The stench of gunpowder coated my tongue. My arms shook with the effort of keeping my aim steady, but adrenaline forced me through.
"Stay down!" a male voice hollered from the far side of the alley. A big voice, rumbling with intensity I immediately recognized. Jackie? I had no idea why he was here now, or who was with him, but I knew I'd never been so relieved to hear his booming presence.
Bullets tore up the pavement as the scavs retreated, returning sporadic fire. One of them dove behind a trash bin, panting. The other limped away, dragging his wounded comrade. I saw Jackie round the corner with a pistol in hand. He wasted no time finishing off one of the scavs with a clean headshot. The scav's body crumpled, leaving just one still breathing somewhere in the darkness.
"Yo, Mocosa!" Jackie's voice reached me in the hush after the gunfire. "You alive, or what?"
I tried to answer, but my throat felt raw and gritty. I settled for giving a weak wave, leaning heavily against the crates.
To his left, a woman I'd never seen before stepped carefully over a bloodied corpse. She was lean and athletic. Her silver Assault rifle glinted, the muzzle still smoking. Her hair was short and if I had to guess, she looked ex-military or corpo. Maybe both. But at the moment, all I cared about was that she wasn't pointing that at me.
Jackie shoved his pistol back into a holster on his hip and jogged over, posture alert, scanning for any more threats. The woman followed, gaze sweeping the alley for stragglers. Satisfied, she nodded at him, then came to a stop a few feet away from me.
Jackie crouched down by my side, his broad grin flickering at the sight of my bloody shoulder. "Chingado, that's a nasty one," he muttered, gently pressing a hand on my good shoulder. "Shoulda known you were in some deep shit, Mocosa."
I tried to offer a witty retort, but all that came out was a hiss of pain. My vision swam again, and black spots danced at the edges. Jackie's face scrunched with concern. "Hey, hey, stay with me. V, you got anything to help, yeah?"
V nodded, rummaging through one of her belt pouches. "Yeah, got a MaxDoc. Should stabilize her until we get to a ripper."
She approached, knelt beside me, and pulled out a small injector. The words on the side read "MaxDoc mk. III." I'd used the cheaper stuff before, but never anything top-tier. That stuff cost a pretty eddy.
"Lift your arm," V said, voice soft but firm. I tried, but the pain made my muscles seize. Jackie helped, carefully propping me up against the crates. My jacket felt damp and sticky, and the alley spun nauseatingly.
V pressed the injector against my neck. There was a brief click, followed by a cool sensation flooding my veins. It was like a jolt of lightning, cleaning away some of the fuzz clouding my head. The throbbing in my shoulder lessened, but it was still there, reminding me I'd need more than just a quick fix.
I exhaled shakily, letting my eyes close for half a second. That pure relief I felt was almost enough to make me forget the bullet. Jackie patted my good shoulder, letting out a short chuckle. "That's better, eh?"
"Much," I managed, forcing a smile. "Thanks. Both of you."
V gave me a quick once-over, then stood, scanning the alley again. "We should bounce. Gunfire like that's gonna draw attention. Maybe more scavs, or maybe the NCPD. Either way, not great."
Jackie nodded. "We were out celebratin', me and V, but guess the party came to an abrupt stop when we heard the shooting." He nudged me gently. "Lucky for you, I guess."
"Definitely lucky," I said with a half-laugh that turned into a grimace when my shoulder protested. "Scavs were… persistent." I glared at the heap of bodies.
V knelt by one of the dead scavs, rifling through his pockets. She didn't look squeamish; in fact, she looked downright calm. "Might find something useful," she murmured, slipping out an ammo clip. She rose and offered it to me. "You need these more than he does."
I took the clip with my free hand, acknowledging her with a grateful nod. "Appreciate it," I said. The MaxDoc was helping, but I could still feel blood trickling down my back. My entire right side felt stiff and hot. "We… we should really get to a clinic."
Jackie helped me to my feet. "Vick's?" he asked, though we both knew the answer. There was no place I'd rather be when I needed patching up. After all, Viktor was the only doc I trusted at the moment. I nodded.
"Yeah," I said, leaning my weight against Jackie's solid frame. "Need him to fish this bullet out."
Jackie chuckled, but I felt the tension in his arm. "Hang in there. V, you good to cover us while we move?"
V eyed the mouth of the alley, pistol still in her grip. "Sure thing. Let's not waste time." She slipped into the lead position without another word, scanning the street beyond.
As we emerged from behind the crates, I realized how quiet the block had become in the aftermath. The scavs who hadn't been shot had hightailed it, leaving behind carnage and bullet casings. A flickering neon sign overhead cast weird shadows on the walls, like the city was trying to wash its hands of what happened here.
My breathing was steadier, thanks to the MaxDoc's jolt, but every step still rattled my shoulder. Jackie kept a firm hold around my waist to steady me. That big lug might've teased me before, but right now, he was about as gentle as I'd ever seen him.
V led the way, weaving between parked cars and random debris. It was a stark contrast to the laughter that had probably filled her night an hour ago, when she was celebrating her new position at Arasaka.
We covered another half-block, carefully skirting any potential ambush points. I kept the Lexington raised, finger off the trigger but ready just in case. Jackie stayed at my side, occasionally glancing at me with concern.
"You'll be a'ight," he muttered. "Vick's got the golden hands."
I snorted. "Yeah… not the first time I've had him dig a bullet out of me."
Jackie raised an eyebrow, but let it slide. We passed a broken streetlamp, then paused to listen. Shouts from a few blocks over. Possibly more scavs, or maybe just some local gang out for a midnight brawl. Either way, we needed to keep moving.
V motioned us forward. "Coast is clear here, but let's not linger."
We hustled down another narrow alley, stepping over puddles that reeked of who-knows-what. My feet dragged, but I forced myself to push on, leaning more heavily into Jackie. My shirt stuck to my skin, the pain in my shoulder spiking whenever I so much as took a deep breath. That MaxDoc was doing wonders to keep me from passing out, but it was no replacement for real medical attention.
Finally, I spotted a familiar stairs that led to Vicks clinic. Relief crashed over me so hard I almost buckled. Jackie felt me slump and hoisted me up again, letting out a low whistle.
"Just a little more, Mocosa," he murmured. "Almost there."
"Right," I breathed.
V paused at the corner, scanning the street. Two punks milled around the stairs, but they didn't look armed or interested in us. She waved us forward. "Seems quiet. Let's go."
The final stretch felt like a mile. Each step jarred the bullet in my shoulder, every heartbeat pressing it deeper into muscle and bone. My fingers were numb where I gripped Jackie's vest, sweat sliding down my temples. When we reached the clinic door, I nearly collapsed into it.
V pulled the door open, stepping aside. She shot me a small nod, the corners of her mouth tight with concern. I swallowed hard, glancing at her and Jackie. "Thank you," I managed, voice rough.
Jackie's face split into a grin, all bravado. "That's what friends are for, eh?" But I saw the flash of relief in his eyes. He was worried I'd bleed out back there. Hell, maybe I was, too.
We filed into the clinic, the stale fluorescent lights overhead making me squint. Viktor, eyes framed by those old-school goggles, looked up from his desk and immediately stood.
"Dammit, kid," he muttered, crossing the room in quick strides. "Let me guess—scavs?"
I forced a grin. "They had it coming, Vick."
He motioned for Jackie to help me onto the exam chair, which reclined with a mechanical whirr. "Alright, let's see how bad this is," Viktor said, slipping on some nitrile gloves. "You, Jackie, Keep her steady. And hey V it's good to see you again"
V stepped forward, tucking her pistol away. "Good to see you to Vic," she said.
Viktor nodded his thanks. " Lend a hand and pass me that tray of tools."
"Sure." She moved picking up the tray and handing it over.
Vick carefully peeled my jacket away from the wound, and I hissed as the fabric tugged at congealed blood. He probed the area gently, then frowned. "Bullet's lodged near the scapula. I'll have to cut it out. Lucky you, I got the means right here."
With practiced efficiency, he jabbed something into my arm, something heavier than the MaxDoc. A swirl of sedation tugged at my senses, and the edges of the room softened. The throbbing in my shoulder became a distant ache, my heartbeat echoing in my ears. I blinked at the ceiling lights.
Jackie's voice rumbled next to me. "You got this, Mocosa. Ain't your first rodeo."
I let out a low laugh that turned groggy. "Feels like the worst, though."
"Shh." V's voice, calm, from somewhere near my feet. "Just breathe kid."
In a haze, I felt Viktor's tools dig into the wound, a distant pressure but no real pain. My eyes fluttered shut, and the memory of those scavs, the firefight, and the narrow escape swam in the darkness.
There was a dull clang as Viktor dropped the bullet onto a metal dish. He let out a satisfied grunt. "Got it. And minimal fragmentation, though you'll need some stitches. You rest now, you hear?"
I nodded, my body sinking deeper into the chair. Warmth spread through my limbs, courtesy of whatever the doc injected. Jackie gave my hand a reassuring squeeze, then stepped back to give Viktor and V space to clean and bandage the wound.
I fought to keep my eyes open long enough to see V give me a small, almost shy smile. "Never met you before," she said quietly, "but Jackie speaks highly of you. Glad we could help."
My lips twitched, a smile fighting its way through the sedation. "V, right? Thanks," I mumbled. "Good shot… saved my ass. Owe you."
Her eyes crinkled in amusement. "Next time buy me a drink."
Jackie let out a laugh. "Atta girl, V." Then he patted my good shoulder. "Get some rest, Mocosa. I'll be here when you wake up."
I wanted to reply with something witty, but the sedation was too strong. My eyelids drooped, and I let them close, trusting Jackie would keep watch. I'd survived the scavs, thanks to him and this new girl, V. The bullet was out, and soon I'd be patched up. Maybe once I could move my arm without flinching, I'd track down any straggling scavs who thought they could keep coming for me. But that was tomorrow's problem.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone