Kor Part 8

Hard smacks slammed against Kor's back, like a steel baton slapping him in the ribs. Thugs behind him had finally found their mettle.

Ears ringing, the soldier stumbled forward as he pulled Driver in front of him. "Make yourself small," he barked, shoved the kid forward. As Laren took cover in front of Kor's wider frame, the Menelaun fired another low shot behind him.

More screams at their back, joining the chorus at their sides. Gyrojet rounds ripped chunks from tile and walls, quickcrete showered the hall.

Side aching, Kor fired another shot, swept this one further to the right. He didn't want to kill, just severely injure, put them in a bed for a few days.

A sting on Kor's outer thigh, like a hot brand laid against the meat. The corner was close. Like he was still an appalloo but now set free, the kid ran with hands cradling his head.

Pushing himself to round the turn, Kor realized he was roaring.

The long stretch of hall was deserted, with all the apartments locked down tight. Driver was already sprinting.

Kor grabbed the back of his coat, threw the kid against the wall as he flattened himself against the side.

Two thugs came around the corner, weapons up and ready, both focused on the hall ahead instead of the world around.

Kor shot at the one in back's firearm.

Razor bladed darts shredded tendon and sliced to the bone. The thug's weapon clattered to the floor before she screamed and grabbed at her mutilated hand as she realized what had happened.

Kor slammed a fist into the face of the one in front.

Bones crumpled and buckled even as the electrical current from Kor's shock glove discharged into the thug. The thug seized and shook for a split second, eyes rolling back before he fell away, unconscious.

Kor shoved Driver along. "Go! Don't stop till the elevator!"

They retraced their steps, put distance between them and the gang. Everytime Driver looked as if he was about to slow, Kor pressed him forward again like a taskmaster, nearly lifted him from the ground with each shove. No one followed. Either they couldn't, or they'd given up the chase.

Still, Kor pushed Laren Qivan. Better to lengthen their lead.

Sweat drenched Kor's clothing, and his side continued to ache. There'd be a bruise, but he'd live. Still in top shape, his steps didn't slow or falter, despite the graze to his outer thigh. Driver, though, was flagging and lagging.

"Move, kid!" Kor said, barely winded. "Ten year old Menelauns can run faster than you without having to catch their breath."

Qivan, panting, hauled off to the side just outside the elevator, held his ribcage. Kor stopped next to him, glared back the way they'd come as he holstered his weapon. He turned back in time to see Qivan pull up his gasmask to avoid filling it with the vomit he promptly deposited in the hallway corner.

"Fuck, uncle," said the still bent over kid, "you killed them all."

Kor shook his head. "Maimed, at best. Figured the Blues can't blame me for self defense where I let the enemy live. I showed mercy, if anything."

Driver shook his head, seemed on the verge of saying something, but threw up again. He groaned loud, sounded strangely resonant without the mask to muddle the vocalization. Wiping the back of his hand across his mouth, he turned to face Kor.

"Look," Kor began, "we need to take the stairs, the elevator..." The soldier blinked in surprise, lost his words and trailed off.

Laren Qivan's face. It was different from before. The nose was longer, the cheek bones higher, even the eyes seemed to be shaped differently. If anything, he now had an almost feminine cast to his features.

Not sure if he'd seen things right, Kor squeezed his eyes shut, opened them again. But Driver was already pulling his mask back down. Kor must have imagined it. The frenzy of battle was to blame. People's faces didn't change.

As Kor was recovering his thoughts, a voice sounded from just a few feet away, from a  wall's internal speaker. "Halt. Kor Menelaunicus, you are suspected of discharging a weapon within a civilian space without prior authorization. Halt."

That was the shitty last name Tisbel had chosen for him? He slammed a fist into the piece of electronics, released his glove's electrical charge as the plasteel housing caved in. The message attempted to repeat, but the digitized voice sputtered and died.

Driver, now recovered, went to call the lift.

"No," Kor snapped as he grabbed the kid and spun him around, pinned him back against the wall. "No elevators."

"Fuck off, uncle! I got you Tisbel, I didn't say to kill nobody. That shit's all you." Laren tugged at Kor's wrist, tried to dislodge him, finally gave up. "What then, huh? What you want?"

"Get me off the block. Get me off the block, or I'll tear through whoever the Blues send, and this time I actually will start dropping bodies."

"Uncle, we's take the stairs, yeah, your ass be carrying mine. Think on that."

The lights flickered, seemingly to remind Kor of where they were. In the heart of one gang's territory while deep inside the faction of another. He needed to think. Elevators removed his agency while navigating the building, but Driver was too exhausted for anything else.

"Is there another way off the block? I saw sky bridges between some of the buildings."

Driver seemed to consider his words, at least Kor thought. 

Damn it was difficult to read body language and facial expressions when the kids wore his mask all the time. Then Kor considered why Laren had it on. Maybe the old soldier hadn't just been seeing things. Maybe there was an explanation.

No, he'd figure that out later, when he was out of this mess. "Driver, come on, think."

"Three floors up, uncle. Stairs ain't much to others, yeah?"

When threatened, most species instinctively move higher for security. In forests, this made sense. For birds, it made sense. But for bipedal, sentient lifeforms trapped in a burning building?

Kor knew that climbing higher could be suicide. If the Blues had cut off the bridge already, Kor and Driver would have no recourse. Tactically, it was the worst decision they could make. But, what other choice did he have? He might as well be trapped in a burning building. But the only safe evac point was to another block, where he wasn't necessarily wanted by its bloodthirsty inhabitants. And, like it or not, he still needed Driver. 

"Alright. Three floors. Let's go."

Laren Qivan found the nearby door. The cheap mag locks had engaged, likely as a security precaution. Two swift boot stomps in line with the mechanism flung it open, sent it slamming back against the stairwell's interior quickcrete wall.

They moved inside, went fast as Kor could without leaving the kid behind. He just hoped it would be fast enough.

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Continue with Part Nine

Previous entries:

Kor Part One

Kor Part Two

Kor Part Three

Kor Part Four

Kor Part Five

Kor Part Six

Kor Part Seven

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Whelp, I tried some different tags last time, and something tells me I didn't get the traction I normally do because of it. I might try to change things up at a future point when I have more traction and personal followers, but for right now I think I'll have to stick with the ones I started out using.

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