09: What Friends Are For

Lyric rubbed at his eyes, staring up at the mangy fox he'd gotten to know as 'Scout'. He was scrawny bastard; the all-denim outfit he apparently chose for himself hanging off a skeletal frame. A nasty scar ran down his neck, no trace of the rust-red fur remaining over it.

“Still asleep shitheel?" Scout asked, lip curling in amusement. He looked like the kind of guy that would feed glass to feral dogs as a kid, just to see what might happen.

“Awake enough to kick your ass, you keep yellin'." Lyric replied, his words sounding muted to his hungover ears. He was in a hellish spot physically, still reeling from the second and third hits of Rust he'd been given last night, while simultaneously coming down from the vast quantity of alcohol Nadine had pumped into him. The last two days were little more than a stain in his memory, since he'd been compelled to spend most of it either drunk or high. He'd gotten used to the hallucinations that accompanied the Rust, they weren't really that bad – it was the way it fucked with his depth perception that was so troublesome.

That, and making sure he maintained his lie through a fog of alcohol and drugs. He just prayed that Nadine would dismiss anything he let slip, putting it down to the inebriation. 

“Not sure you can take this outlaw life partner." Scout added, his neglected teeth flashing as he chuckled.

“Scout, lay off." Nadine's voice, coming from somewhere close. Lyric pulled himself out of the hammock (how did he end up in a hammock?) and looked around, trying to gather his bearings. It was maybe a little past dawn, and most of the guests had cleared out from the secret party-yard that was the back of Harriet's Hideaway. The wolverine was flanked by a burly wolf with a shotgun, a yellow kerchief wrapped tightly around his neck scruff.

“Mornin'." Lyric croaked, trying to appear more awake than he felt. Nadine nodded. She was dressed in dark dusted jeans with high brown boots, the sleeves of her green flannel shirt rolled up to the elbow. On top of all that she had some kind of black padded vest pulled over her torso and strapped tight at the waist. “S'that?" He asked, motioning at it.

“Nadine's got an edge on most'a you lowlife desert-dwellers." Scout said snidely, accepting a revolver the burly wolf palmed him. Lyric raised an eyebrow, noticing that the same wolf was now extracting more of the vests from a duffel bag he had slung over a shoulder.

“Scout shut yer trap already." The wolverine barked, turning to Lyric. “It's body armour Hal. You can guess what that's for."

“I thought there wouldn't be shooting?"

“Hope for the best." She replied. Lyric shrugged, accepting the vest from the wolf. It was fluid, bending along the front and back, with more thick armour-padding at the sides to hug his abdomen. It felt like he was holding a bag of yoghurt. Body protection was a rare sight in the South, but it usually came in the form of rabid lunatics strapping chunks of metal to themselves. He'd never seen anything like this before, sleek and almost tactical, covered in little hooks and clips, with a pocket on the side for what he guessed was a weapon magazine.

Though no standard-calibre rifle uses magazines that size. None I've seen.

“Not like armour I've seen before." He said, slipping it over his head and tightening the waist straps. Nadine sighed, accepting a rifle from the wolf and slinging it over a shoulder.

“Cause it's not. The idiot was right when he said our gang has an edge. I found these in a Dead World bunker once. It was nearly invisible, and I stumbled across it by fucking accident. Inside it had a bunch of wacky looking rifles, none I could get to do a damned thing. There were also helmets, some old gas-masks, and these babies. I dunno what's inside the padding, but it's better than having a lead plate taped to your chest." Lyric raised an eyebrow.

“And how is it meant to protect against shit then? I've been shot through water before Nadine." Lyric retorted, slipping his own slide-action pistol from the waist holster and checking the ammo.

“I don't know." She admitted. “But it does. Even if you get shanked, it'll freeze up and stop it. Feels fucking weird as hell, but you won't be leaking jackal-entrails."

“If you say so."

“I do."

The four looked over their gear once more, and Nadine ran over the plan with them. They were to meet at noon, in some old manufacturing plant Baron Vellem had abandoned half a decade prior. It was a traditional sit-down location, and most gangs respected the passive nature of it.

“This kid though, he don't have no respect." Nadine told Lyric, as they rode westward out of Bantam. “So be ready for anything, got it?" Lyric had agreed, and the gang picked up pace. The wolf was mostly quiet, and Lyric didn't recognise him. When asked, he refused to give a name.

“Fuck you too then." Lyric had replied.

“I'll be right behind ya the whole time. Don't ya forget it." Scout had informed him, as they were getting somewhat closer to the old factory.

“Oh, you like taking guys from behind then?" Lyric asked, cocking his head. “Maybe we've got more in common than I thought Scout."

“So you're a back-door-bandit?" Scout sniffed. “Makes sense, you sound like a bitch. Wouldn't be nothin' on me to take you shit-heel, be pretty much the same as any girl to me." Lyric laughed.

“I wouldn't wanna catch anything, and I've always been more of a top." He replied. “Now, could ya please shut yer maw Scout? Every time ya open it I get a whiff of those corpses you must hide behind your teeth, makin' me gag partner."

“Watch y'self Haldrick." Scout sneered, veering his feral mount away from the jackal.

Eventually the old factory chimneys poked up in the distance, and after another hour of riding they were on the north side of it. Lyric guessed it was once a Dead World ruin, and the Baron had simply attempted to refurbish it. Reusing Dead World structures wasn't uncommon, especially for a province with as many as Vellem. The group swiftly hitched their ferals and dismounted, swapping out weapons and organising themselves.

Nadine would go in unarmed, except for a small knife tucked into her boot. It was customary for the leaders to be open-pawed, but she didn't trust the kid they were meeting enough to fully honour the custom. The wolf had his pump-action, while Scout kept hold of a rifle, an old revolver sagging in his belt. Lyric had his slide-action, with three extra mags in a back pocket.

He hoped he didn't have to use them.

“Aight. Tolan?" Nadine began, turning to the wolf. Tolan smirked, pulling out four tiny vials from a jacket pocket, all filled with red powder that Lyric was oh-too-acquainted with.

“You wanna be hopped up on Rust before a sit-down?" Lyric asked, as Tolan pushed a vial into his paw. Scout rolled his eyes.

“It's a fuckin' upper shit-heel. Keeps us alert." He sniped.

“And paranoid, seein' shit that ain't there. Are you kidding me?" Lyric snapped, glaring at Nadine.

“He's right Hal." She answered, doing the line out of the crook of her thumb. Holding her head back, she sucked in air, wheezing out an answer. “And it inhibits pain. You take a bullet in your leg, ya half as likely to just keep goin'. Rust's saved my hide more'n I like to count, so my crews take it before jobs." Lyric eyed the vial suspiciously. He didn't like the sensation; it was far too deceptively pleasant. But he couldn't deny that it was a strong upper. 

“It's not optional." Tolan growled, stepping forward. Lyric held a paw up, fingers splayed.

“Fine, fine." He eyed Scout, before doing the hit himself in the same manner as Nadine. Again it hit hard and fast, the aperture of his awareness swelling and contracting, vision locking up a moment as his brain came to terms with the aggressive chemical changes he was subjecting it to.

When they'd taken a minute or two to reach equilibrium, the four pushed inside the factory.

They followed the graffitied hallways into a long, open hall. Lyric assumed – through the Rust haze – that it had once been a factory floor. The far end had a large smelter type thing situated against the wall, whilst along the edges were stretches of manually-cranked conveyor belts and other rusting machinery.

The kid they were meeting with sat at a metal table somewhere close to the centre of the room. He was a wiry looking retile, his tongue forking out in anticipation as he noticed them. He sat surrounded by five heavy-set outlaws, their faces hidden beneath kerchiefs, all an indeterminate canine species. He stood as they approached, spreading his arms out, claws flashing.

“Na-dine!" He exclaimed. “Well howdy there, I was startin' to think you might not deign to show that pretty face to me!" His voice was almost comically accented, and had Lyric not been slowly losing himself in the swirling patterns on the floor, he would have cringed at it.

“Hello Malen." Nadine replied begrudgingly. She slid a chair away from the table and took a seat, claws folding neatly before herself. Malen gave her entourage a nod and sat. “Four guards is custom." Nadine added.

“Well, innovation is a noble pursuit." Malen retorted, tongue snaking out again. Behind Nadine, Lyric stood with his paws at the ready. His depth perception was wobbling though, and he couldn't quite manage to decide just how far away Malen and the wolverine were. He'd gotten the colourful fractals and swirls around himself mostly under control, accepting them into his reality as best he could. But he kept losing himself in staring at something, whether it be the reflection on the metal table, or the fur poking up from Tolan's neck.

Malen and Nadine chatted tersely, but he didn't pay much attention. At least, he didn't until-

“Haldrick's not for sale." Nadine said, pulling his attention back. Malen tsked.

“Aw, but what a pity, he's such a cute little thang." The reptile replied. Lyric refocused, or tried to.

What? He thought. Nadine paused, turning back to him and glaring.

“I'll handle it, thank you."

Did I say that out loud?

“Yes, shitheel." Scout added, nudging him.

“Scout." Tolan snapped. Nadine turned back to Malen.

“My people aren't whores."

“So what are you willing to give me then, Na-dine?" Malen asked, shrugging. “Not sure you have all that much."

“You can have Bantam West, and your life." She hissed. Lyric sighed, rubbing his face. This was so tedious, his heart was racing, he wanted to do something damn it. “I keep the rest of the city; outer farms are open territory. That's the deal."

Malen looked as if poised to answer, when a distant echoic cry interrupted him. It was one they all recognised, and reacted to instantly.

“THE LAW!"

The scream came from the back of the hall, near to where the furnace was located. A tall cat appeared then, sprinting down the factory floor toward the meeting, two others in tow, all three armed.

Malen brought more than just that five. Lyric realised, still frozen in place, wishing the walls would go back to being solids. The young reptile stood quickly, accepting a rifle that was thrown to him. At the end of the room a glass exploded on the floor, bursting into a small maelstrom of wicked flames that quickly began to eat the south side of the building.

It all happened very fast.

“Fuck!" Malen exclaimed.

“Boss we gotta move!" One of the reptile's guards shouted, shots already starting to pop off in the direction of the fire, lawmen starting to take up position amongst the machinery.

Malen glanced back just in time to see Nadine hop the table, her knife gleaming in paw. He got out a short scream before she crashed into him, the blade plunging deep into his throat, thick blue blood spraying outwards onto her front.

Finally. Lyric thought.

     Then he drew, and a dozen lawmen stormed in from the south end. Lyric's first shot downed Malen's closest guard, and another copped a slug to the brain from a distant copper. Tolan went down next, though who fired the bullet Lyric couldn't guess.

     I need Nadine. He thought, struggling to remember why exactly, but knowing that was his goal. To his right Scout dropped into a crouch and took cover behind a hunk of old metal, pushing the rifle to his eye and dropping two lawmen. Lyric rounded the table and pulled Nadine off Malen, noting she'd already stabbed him half a dozen times in the face, his weird dark blood gushing like a split cyst.

“We gotta move." He growled. One of Malen's guards turned to him, teeth bared. Lyric smashed his gun butt across the face and shoved him away, grabbing Nadine by the collar and pulling them both to the side, finding cover from the quickly building maelstrom of gunfire. There was no longer any sense to the two warring sides placement, and Lyric found himself astounded by the amount of men both the law and Malen's gang had brought along. The fire was spreading now, the high roof of the factory filling with smoke. Another of Malen's guards was floored, and Lyric realised that behind them even more of the law were approaching.

They surrounded us. He couldn't kill lawmen. There was just no way his conscience would allow that kind of transgression to slide. He hated drug dealers like Nadine and Malen, they were scum of the poisoned Earth.

But he also couldn't let them arrest him. There'd be no explaining this one away, and he'd be beyond Meridian's influence.

Scout shot two coppers himself, and then managed to scurry through the carnage to where Lyric and Nadine were huddled.

“Nobody hit?" Nadine asked, gratefully accepting Scout's revolver. They all shook their head, shuffling back as the screams suddenly began to grow louder. “Here's the plan, we go deeper into the factory, lose the bastards, get out before it goes up and find our horses."

“Yissir." Scout replied, popping off another shot and taking out one of the reptile's gang. The trio scurried back, folding into another room and sprinting down a hallway, smoke suddenly everywhere. “Fucking lizard…did he bring his whole damned gang?" The fox cried, as they burst through a set of swinging double doors.

Everything was on fire now, and it was more than hard to see. Lyric was struggling, he kept willing his body to do something, and when there was a delay he overcompensated. Twice now he'd crashed into a wall and fallen over, only to have the ornery wolverine tug him to his feet.

The hallways eventually led them to wide lobby-type of room, and what had once been an exit was now completely engulfed in flames. Lyric swore.

“The law ain't looking to hang us!" He shouted over the roar of gunfire and regular fire. “No way they'd lead with a cocktail otherwise!"

“Yeah I didn't expect all this, tell the truth." Nadine growled.

“What?" Lyric asked, grabbing her shoulder.

“Don't play dumb Haldrick." She snapped, struggling to be heard over the building cacophony. “You saw how many fucking men that slime brought with him. No way would we have made it out of here alive otherwise."

“So you tipped off the law?"

“And I'd do it again." She growled, teeth bared. “I didn't think they'd be so cold blooded though, that was our job."

“Look." Scout said, turning back to them. “Way we came's on fire. This was a good exit, but it's also on fire. We can get out I think, but we're gonna have to go back to the main floor." He pointed a blood-stained finger at a nearby door. “I say we go through there, hop the office window, run like hell down the factory floor. Kill any law or others in our way."

“This is a bad plan." Lyric said, wanting to vomit. This was quickly becoming a bloodbath. How many lawmen could he let Scout kill before the deaths became his responsibility?  

“No shit, shitheel!" Scout erupted, getting in his face. “This whole place is coming down around our ears, and apparently that cunt lizard brought his entire posse! You got any better fucking ideas?" Lyric just sneered in reply.

“The law've been a pain in my tail m'whole damned life, I'm not shy from paying 'em back a little." Nadine said. “Lead the way Scout. We go through the shit." The fox inhaled deeply, before stepping forward and kicking open the door.

As he'd said, it led into a small office, a giant window looking out onto the factory floor before them. The hall outside was a warzone, blood everywhere, pieces of people and bullet casings littering the ground. All of this was seen through a haze of smoke and ash, and Lyric felt a pang of sadness as he spied multiple dead lawmen. Good wolves, just doing their job.

How did this go so wrong so fast? Lyric thought, struggling to stay upright. Without waiting for instruction, Scout picked up a chair and threw it through the glass, the sheet exploding into fragments and giving way to the sounds and smells of the shit-storm outside. The three of them scaled the remaining bit of plaster, and hunkered down near some machinery, hot to the touch. They had come full circle, and were now on the side of the room closest to the smelter. Just in front of them was the spot where the first cocktail had gone off, now thoroughly burning, collapsed pillars and roof beams blocking their pathway out that side.

Need Nadine. Lyric reminded himself. This isn't you. You're not an outlaw. Not a drug dealer or a gun runner or a killer. Not like them. He coughed, checking his ammo as Scout stood up. He took a shot which glanced off a nearby ladder, nearly taking off the head of some feline lawman.

You can't let this happen. The jackal thought, head pounding. You can't let these people die for doing the right thing. Another voice told him the law deserved it, after all they weren't trying to arrest the drug lords as they should. Their primary concern seemed to be killing them – that wasn't justice. No doubt it'd be spun for the city dwellers, talking about how they did their best, but the savage outlaws forced their paw. There had never been a plan to put them on trial though. And what do you do with criminals? What would you do Lyric, if you found someone who'd killed as many people as Scout likely has?

It was a fair point.

“Fuck this." He said, pressing his handgun to the back of Scout's head and pulling the trigger. The fox's brains exploded out from his face and he fell to the ground, twitching and seizing spastically.

“What the hell?!" Nadine screamed, but Lyric smashed his pistol butt across her eyes, tearing out a chunk of fur and dazing her. She instinctually dropped the revolver and he picked it up and threw it.

On the other side of their cover, the law was steadily approaching.

“Haldrick!" Nadine exclaimed woozily as Lyric got behind her, his slide-action barrel pressed to the side of her skull, the still-hot muzzle singeing the fur.

“Move it. That way." He barked, keeping one paw on her collar and shoving her forward. They flanked around the squad of approaching lawmen, Lyric occasionally letting off wide pot-shots that would hopefully keep them at bay.

“Who are you working for? Are you--" An explosion went off and they were thrown to the ground, sprawling.

So Malen's people busted out their dynamite. Amazing. He thought, dizzily picking himself up. Nadine was up first and running, but he dove forward and tackled her around the waist, pulling them both down.

“This was supposed--" He grunted, jerking them both to their feet. “—to be easy!"

“Are you with the Curse then? At least give me a gun damn you!" She howled. Lyric laughed, though the gunfire around them was far too loud for her to hear.

“Not a chance!" He cried. He'd never seen anything go this wrong, this fast. It was almost impressive. Dynamite, wildfire, a small army of the law versus a small army of outlaws, it was a teenagers wet dream. The reality was unfortunately much more horrifying, the stench of blood and gunpowder and split bowels clogging Lyric's nose, his ears ringing from the sounds. On top of all that he was still high and reeling from it.

He and Nadine went forward again, when suddenly something impacted at his back, throwing him off-balance. It took Lyric a second to realise he'd been shot, the liquid armour tightening exponentially around his shoulders and spine even as the impact landed, protecting him.

Without the vest that could have been the use of my legs. He thought with a chill. No time for that now though, he had to keep moving.

Except Nadine had vanished into the smoke somewhere.

“Damn it." He said, pushing forward. He shot two of Malen's men as he went and threw a lawman to the ground, kicking away his rifle. He crashed through a set of doors into another homogenous corridor to see the wolverine clutching her arm lamely, slumped against the far wall and bleeding.

“Can you fuck off already?!" She screamed, seeing him. Lyric stepped forward and she shot, somewhere having acquired a handgun. The move was overly telegraphed, and he peeled to the side, a slight tug in his own shoulder letting him know he'd been hit. Through the Rust though he felt nothing, just a slight warmth where he was now likely bleeding.

Behind them another explosion went off and people screamed. There had to be twenty dead on either side now. A disaster. The event would probably go down in Vellem history for at least the next two decades.

Just call this what it is: a massacre. Lyric thought, a pang of sadness and guilt hitting him. He knew he should have grabbed Nadine earlier, could have…no. Not now.

He glanced around the corner and another shot went off, taking apart some of the brickwork close to his head.

“NADINE!" He howled, but it was much too loud for her to hear.

“There's one in here!" A voice of the law said, a burly German Shepherd stepping into the corridor and narrowing his eyes at the cowering wolverine. “Got you now, scum." He said, stepping forward without noticing Lyric. Another shot went off, and the lawman ducked, the bullet going wide. Lyric rounded the corner as the cop raised his revolver, wrapping an arm around his throat and pressing the gun to his head.

“Don't do it partner." He growled into the lawman's ear. The shepherd froze, dropping his gun instantly. Lyric shuffled forward, inching towards Nadine, who still had her gun shakily trained on them.

“Don't hurt me please!" The lawman whimpered, and Lyric heard him wet himself.

“Stay the hell away from me Haldrick!" Nadine cried. She didn't shoot, presuming to know the second she did Lyric would just shoot her right back. He hoped she thought that, using a mostly-innocent cop for this gamble would haunt his dreams for months. But Nadine wasn't an idiot, she understood.

“Nadine!" Lyric cried, glancing over his shoulder to check they weren't to be interrupted. Most of the gunfire had died down now, the odd shot occasionally cracking out. More so it was the fire, exploding and howling as it consumed the building from within. The hallway they now stood in was flooded with smoke, the brickwork thankfully keeping the brunt of the heat at bay.

“Look, stay here and die!" It was hard to be heard.
“Or, drop your gun, come with me, and live." He said, peering past the German Shepherd's head. The wolverine considered, shaking her head.

“I'll die!" She said, eyes going placidly forward.

“Dumb bitch." Lyric sighed. He threw the lawman forward onto her, both of them screaming as they tumbled into a mess of limbs. Nadine's gun went off but hit the opposite wall, the two furs scrambling like a weirdly hodgepodge tarantula. The German Shepherd instantly rolled away, and she glanced up to Lyric, preparing to aim. Her shot was interrupted though as his boot connected with her face, a crack sounding as he broke her nose and knocked her into unconsciousness. She rag-dolled across the concrete. The lawman, back to the wall and still on his ass, looked up at Lyric as if seeing a revenant. His jaw fell open and he started shaking his head.

“No." He pleaded. Lyric rolled his eyes.

“Leave." He said, tucking his gun into his holster and bending down to grab Nadine's feet, even as the shepherd scrambled away from them. She was heavier than she looked, but Lyric was still running on both adrenalin and a powerful stimulant. Panting, eyes watering through the smoke, he shoved open the door behind her and dragged the body through.

Heat licked at them and he saw flames, but it was a wide room and the tendrils were mostly confined to the edges. Lyric felt his shirt sizzling, but he gritted his teeth and focused on Nadine. The door he found to lead them outside was barred, a pile of rubble piled before it.

“Fuck." He said. The nightmare wouldn't end; he was sick of this, the race was wearing off and the inches of pain were starting to dance across his nerves.

The window that was next to the blocked door however seemed fine, and so Lyric emulated the late Scout, and shoved Nadine through it. The wolverine landed outside on her back, eyes fluttering as she mumbled, struggling to come to awareness. Tiny shards of glass poked out of her vest and face, and Lyric brushed over her head, seeing nothing too damning. She'd hurt later, but she'd be alive.

“Wha…" She slurred, rolling away and crawling. “Get back Hal." She said, sounding drunk. Lyric stepped over her and put a gun to the back of her head.

“Up." He ordered. She complied, albeit very slowly, getting to her feet. He looked around, seeing no sign of either the law or Malen's gang. They must have all fled, died, or be grouping up on the other side of the burning factory.

Speaking of… Lyric thought, looking at it even as he led Nadine away to the ferals. The roof was going up now, collapsing in on itself, windows and walls exploding outwards. If we'd been inside much longer… He shuddered.

Nadine didn't try to fight back, obviously too sore or confused to consider rebellion. He sat her up against a tree and dealt with the mounts. They were spooked by the noise, but after some hushing Lyric managed to get one to relax, he thought it was Tolan's from memory. The others he cut free and let run.

Next he dug out a small flask of water from Tolan's saddlebag, splashing it onto Nadine's face. She screamed, and he slapped her. She howled instantly, and he remembered the broken snout.

“What the fuck?!" She moaned. He knelt over her, pushing his gun into her stomach.

“You wanna live Nadine?" He asked calmly. “I didn't go through all that just to kill you, but it's tempting, I won't lie."

“How are you still standing?" She asked, examining him.

“Shut up." He replied. She wiped at her face.

“Who the hell are you?" Her words were groggy and slurred, one of her eyelids not opening properly, her entire face drenched in blood and soot. She was rightly fucked up.

“I'm the guy that'll kill Beau Riddon."

“That animal?" She made something close to an approximation of a snort, but the gore in her throat and nostrils left it as a liquidy squirting noise. “Well, shit, bout time somebody did. That what this is about then?"

“Sure." Lyric replied. “Tell me where the Curse are now." He pushed the barrel of his gun deeper, emphasising. Nadine squirmed in place, hissing in pain as she disturbed the wounded parts of herself. Her shoulder was obliterated, and her legs were still filled with glass. Lyric's own arm must still be bleeding, although he could feel little to nothing.

“I don't know! I told you, they cut me out."

“Said you left."

“Same thing you bastard!" She spat at him, but was so weak that the saliva just dribbled onto her chin. Lyric shrugged, he hadn't expected her to know where exactly they were, but it had been worth the shot.

“Next question; the assholes who manufacture Sleep. That wacky death cult, where are they holed up? Don't lie, I know they're in Kallinger." Nadine laughed.

“If you looked at a fucking map Haldrick, or whoever y'are, you'd see there's only one fucking place for a thousand miles a theatrical group like that would be."

“Yet here we are." He said, adjusting his grip on the handgun.

“They're in Blood Mesa, far to the east of the province. I wouldn't go there I was you though; the Children of Nihil do not fuck around. You think they just manufacture Sleep? It's way worse than that Hal, oh way weirder."

“What do they do then?"

“I don't know exactly. But they're all in on Dead World tech. They were the ones gave me these vests. They into weird shit, sacrifices, occult worship…they're a cult damn it! And Sleep ain't like Rust, or Race, or Moon Rocks, not t'all. It's something else. It's a nightmare in a bottle you don't wanna open up."

“Right then." Lyric replied. “Anything else?"

“Beau and Isaiah will kill you, if Oracen doesn't first." He recognised the first two names – Isaiah was the leader of the Sultan's Curse.

“Who's Oracen?"

“You meet that cult; you'll know just who Oracen is." Lyric sighed. With a groan, he stood, joints popping. “I don't know how you're still standing mutt." Nadine added.

“Don't talk." Lyric said.

“Gonna kill me?"

“Should I?" He looked down at her, entertaining the idea. Having an influential drug lord gunning for him wasn't the best idea, but it was hardly new.

“You leave me an' I'll leave you kid." She said. He didn't believe her, but there had been enough death, and he was tired. He holstered his weapon and turned to the horse, doggedly pulling himself onto it, breath rasping.

“See you round Nadine." He said, kicking the feral into gear.

He rode slow, and it was half an hour before he finally looked down at himself. He realised now why the wolverine had said what she'd said, and why that German Shepherd copper had looked at him like he'd seen a corpse walking about –

It was because he pretty much had.

Lyric tried to steer his horse towards the circus as best he could, but he was coming down hard, and he'd taken more than the one bullet to his limbs. The vest kept him alive, but the Rust had muted his feeling to the point where he was covered in wounds. His arms and legs were shredded, everything painted red, chunks of burnt furred flesh hanging off him and bouncing to the feral's rhythm.

Nadine had been in pain, but she had more a tolerance built up to the drug. He was fresh into it, but he'd lost a lot of blood.

And now, he was a dead man walking. 

The End of Part One.