Ficly

Subway Gunfire

“Oh crap! Nicky! What do I do?” I glanced down at the iPhone screen, but all I saw was the “busy syncing” notification. She wasn’t able to hear me. She was completely out of it.

The light was sticking close on our trail. I frowned. I still couldn’t tell if they were friend or foe. Not that it really mattered much, I suppose. I couldn’t exactly try to “lose them” in these tunnels.

I caught a flicker of orange out of the corner of my eye, and swerved the bike as rows of sparks trace their way up the side wall in front of me. The rear view mirror showed the twin muzzle flashes under the headlight. “Okay, foe then. Damn it, Nicky, I don’t even know if this thing has weapons, much less how to use them!” I ducked and swerved, trying to throw off their aim.

But at the word “weapons”, the map shrank to a corner of the multi-function display, and a diagram of the motorcycle appeared, with arrows and labels. Plasma cannon, caltrop dropper, oil slick, sensor chaff…

“Well, that answers the first question…”

This story has no comments.