I let the engine idle. A few more moments to collect the jumble of thoughts bouncing around like burst boils in my head. Unfortunately musing wasn’t going to bring answers, it was time to dredge up the past, and hopefully earn a Yen or two. Barely more than nods were exchanged between us. Jimmy was playing with a lighter absent mindedly, it was a gift from Celeste…
Pierre looked like shit. Actually more like a corpse that had found death boring, and decided that the party wasn’t over. The Johnson had them pegged without too much bullshitting, nice to hear i’m not the only bum one step up off the street, existing out of a vague promise that tomorrow could be marginally better than today. Everyone needs money at the end of the day.
The work the Johnson proffered us was whacking some pack of big dogs with a fucked up howl, this we had ascertained at Cal’s drinking hole. Stepping past the threshold felt like doing a time warp. A better time and place, and all that other fucked up emotional shit that came along with it. Drowning the stupid sentimental bullshit, seemed like an idea in an attempt to keep my game face on. The Barghests (he was told to use the proper name, big fucked up dogs wasn’t flying as a name) meant it was a combat round to open the line with their new employer.
This caused me to pause and assess the group I was with. Jimmy didn’t look so down and out, keeping up the façade of cool laid back suave mother fucker. Combat effectiveness debatable, how much is faked you can never know with him, but always expect a trick or two, never usually had to worry about his back, just the feeling you should be watching your own. Pierre i have seen go from zombification to frothing lunatic more than once, I didn’t doubt that still held true. The other two, well. The dwarf seemed to be obsessed with blowing things up, but she seemed like too much of the hippy type to apply that to anything non-metahuman, if that was even her speciality. The tech kid, who had been doing all the data mining, didn’t look like the combat type. I adjourned the drinking whilst ear protection was being sought after.
When the kid finally realised you have to pound the outside of the truck for anyone inside to hear you. I briefly wondered how long pierre and Jimmy let him stand outside the truck like a gimboid, probably should have been reading the updates being sent. With a sigh i send the command for the door to open, having a comm built into your head was still freaky but fun. Steelpants or whatever his name was found me sitting at a small fold out table reassembling my sidearm. As i started to rehouse the shells back into the clip;they’d been sat in there awhile, it reminded me to ask what kinda sidearm he was packing. Almost facepalmed when he showed me his shiney awesome electro sticker. Sidetracked i thought i should advise him on investing in something that used bullets or shells but we were meant to moving out.
The pack was meant to be hanging out out of town on some rich snobs land. We weren’t allowed to drive across much to my annoyance. So when we trudged across to the small forest aways across some nice picturesque open gardens I dragged my feet the entire way. Childish and immature admittedly, but amusing. My vote to use explosions to kill the dogs was quickly quashed, too much damage to the land or some such crap.
So we headed into the woods. Unsurprisingly they chose to adopt the ‘gather behind the troll’ tactic. The Kid had these nifty little spybots, not sure how much practice he’d had using them to hunt. When the first wave came at us it caught the dwarf doing some voodoo hippy tree hugging, me and Jimmy trying to stay above the drunken haze, and pierre, god knows what haze he was in. We saw them moving amongst the shadows, keeping us on our toes. The first wave hit us with a howl that threatened to tear reality away from your consciousness. Like a freaking fuking banshee ripping at your sanity. Blinking back the stars and what felt like an Apocalyptic headache, i was greeted with not so much a ghostly apparition, but several hundread pounds of frothy mouthed pointy toothed hell hound. Hounds. Plural. One to the left in the woods, which Pierre took off after. One back right, had the hippy scurrying back towards us. Steelpants, stepped up bold as brass and found out why electro stickers suck balls in bad situations. As i pulled the remmington out its holster and aimed it at the charging beast i heard the salvo of destruction that was Pierre unleashing his drugged drowned Demon on a sanguinary mission.
‘Come then beastie, lets dance’. The pistol bucks violently in my meaty mitt, a shotgun shell is kicked out from its side, the hounds head disappears into a bloody mist. A frothing mouth with pointy teeth and a ruined face emerge still at full tilt emitting another psychosomatic howl.
As i big as i am i don’t want to be stuck in close with these things for too long.
Jimmy started overloading the beasts poor brains, sending them off in startled fear, it won’t hold, but it buys time. Pierre drifts from the woods towards the Barghests in front as a tornado would drift into a wooden house. It buys me space to use my Remmington again. It barks and bites twice more, and then ‘Click’.
Definitely not good…..