Gun Team Clover
Antonio Litwin.
Interactions: @fluxKhor Kosović
Brewery District - Underground
“Where are they dammit.” Donkey bounced his leg sitting in the tunnel, head resting against the old mortar wall, condensation building on his visor. Snaptrap sat beside throwing bits of debris into the canal, seemingly entertained by the variety of sounds echoing through the halls. Donkey slapped Snaptrap’s hand as he went to throw another. “Stop that.”
Snaptrap shook his hand giving Donkey a dirty look, interrupted by the bouncing of lights down the tunnel. Voice low he nudged Donkey. “Hey, contact.” Snaptrap cupped his helmet filters, raising his voice. “Starlight.”
The lights stopped, swivelled a bit, then approached more cautiously. Snaptrap and Donkey shared a look of concern and charged their weapons, pointing them at the approach of the lights. Snaptrap growled. “We’re in a funnel man.”
Donkey murmured. “I know.”
Snaptrap growled again. “Even misses are gonna ricochet and hit us man.”
Donkey snarled. “I fucking know, be ready.”
The lights began to round the corner. Snaptrap shouted. “Starlight!”
Empty hands rose around the corner above the newcomer followed by another. Red helmets, white teeth. They both lowered their weapons, Snaptrap letting out a relieved sigh while Donkey wasted no time tearing into the new arrivals. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Looking for a bullet? Voidout! The response is Voidout, dumb mother…” Donkey looked the two men over more carefully. “You two aren’t Clover, who the hell are you?”
One of the newcomers stayed quiet, the other answered a bit too eagerly. “We’re runners. Antonio took the two Clover gunners with Iceman. Said anyone who volunteers gets a gun and gear paid in full by the Akula's. A bunch of us jumped at it.”
Snaptrap interjected before Donkey. “Kid’s? They’re sending us kid’s now?” Sliding back down the wall Snaptrap pointed at them both. “Jesus Christ do either of you know what you’re getting into?”
Donkey raised his hand to silence Snaptrap without breaking his gaze on the newcomers. “One chance to walk away. We’re hunters today. Killers. Is that what you want to be? War dogs hounding death?”
The eager newcomer responded. “We want to fight for what we believe in.”
Donkey looked back to Snaptrap. The newcomers weren’t going to be deterred, and it was too late to walk them back, the mission too important to abort. Snaptrap shrugged and Donkey looked to the underside of his wrist. “Fifteen minutes left. Long enough for a crash course then.”
Donkey approached the eager newcomer. “Rule one.” And immediately began slapping at his helmet. “Always. Identify. Your God. Damn. Self! No one wants to shoot their own.”
Snaptrap started chuckling. “Here come the rules. Buckle up kids.”
Donkey continued. “Rule two.” He snatched the rifle from the quiet newcomer. “Never point this at me. You do that, I’ll kill you.” He pointed toward Snaptrap. “You can wave it all you want at him, fuck him.” Snaptrap raised his hand twiddling his fingers as a wave. Though they couldn’t see it under the helmets they all wore, they were certain it hid a shit eating grin.
Donkey snatched their attention back. “Rule three. Don’t tell me your…” He trailed off, focussing on the more eager newcomer shifting on his feet. “What the hell is wrong with you boy?”
The eager newcomer shifted awkwardly. “I uh, I need the bathroom.”
Donkey blinked. “We’re in a sewer. Shit in the canal.”
The eager newcomer began to unbuckle their pants before being pushed away by Donkey. “Around the corner for god’s sake.”
The eager newcomer pulled their pants back up at once. “Sorry, Sorry. Um. I’m Dave, by the way.”
Snaptrap burst out laughing while Donkey clenched his eyes. “Three. Don’t tell me your fucking names.”
Snaptrap tried but failed to compose himself. “First casualty confirmed. Gonna be in the big man’s arms while he’s shouting ‘Dave! Dave! Don’t you die on me Dave!’. I’m putting money on this, who wants a piece?” He looked to Dave. “You should go all in. Might as well sweeten the pot for everyone else!”
Dave’s eye’s widened, skirting around. “I- I’m not gonna die!”
Donkey pushed Dave again. “Go shit in the canal before you shit your pants.”
After Dave went around the corner Donkey looked to the silent newcomer. “You’re quiet. Scared?”
The quiet man shook his head. “No.”
Donkey looked back to Snaptrap before both chuckled. “You’re full of more shit than dead Dave round the corner there. You’re terrified.”
Dave shouted around the corner. “I’m not going to die! It’s not funny!”
Once the chuckling subsided Donkey took a softer tone. “Here's the job. Upstart gangers who think they're hard trying to move in. Simple kill house, everyone inside a threat. You see someone who’s not wearing a red mask with white teeth, you give them a greeting in seven six two. We do this and the Brewery District is safe for another day.” Donkey handed the quiet man his rifle back. “You know how to use this?”
The quiet man detached the magazine, flicked a switch, pulled back the bolt and squeezed the trigger to sound a satisfying click within the tunnel. Donkey nodded. “Not useless after all.” His voice became stern again. “Most dangerous part of the job is the first door. Do not hesitate. Clear that fatal funnel, and you’ll be ok.”
The quiet man nodded, jamming the magazine back into the weapon. Donkey pointed to himself. “You call me Bossman. That idiot sitting there, Smallboy.” He then pointed to the quiet man, then Dave around the corner. “You two are Dickhead and Shit-wink.”
Dave called from around the corner. “But my name is-.”
Donkey snapped back. “I don’t give a fuck what your name is Shit-wink. You survive your on-the-job training, then maybe you get a real handle. Might even learn ours as well.”
Dave suddenly stumbled round the corner dragging their pants up in a rush soon followed by another individual. Snaptrap scuffled up and next to Donkey, leaning into his ear whispering. “We don’t get just any captain but the Eel themself.”
The Eel greeted Dave who scrambled at buckling their belt trying to retain whatever was left of their dignity. Donkey leant back towards Snaptrap. “You think that’s good news or bad news?”
Snaptrap shrugged. “Hell of an asset for what we’re about to do, so good I suppose.” He glanced over the newcomers. “Better than just some senseless kids.”
The Eel approached Donkey. “What the hell are runners doing here armed?”
Donkey responded formally. “Barman’s orders. Anyone willing gets a gun.”
The Eel’s eyes squinted. “That’s not how we do things.” Glancing to Dave and the quiet man the Eel winced before shaking their head. “Too late to turn back. We ready?” Donkey and Snaptrap nodded.
The Eel gestured to the access ladder “Show time.”
Gun Team Clover
None.
Interactions: @fluxKhor Kosović
Brewery District - Warehouse Tower
The climb wasn’t high, but it was long. Navigating the technical corridors offered very little room to squeeze through and was made all the more difficult by vests full of ammo and rifles hanging from slings. The Eel led the way with a pistol drawn, not encumbered by so much equipment, waiting occasionally for the others to catch up.
They managed to reach the target floor and pulled themselves through a large vent into a small maintenance office. Donkey and Snaptrap helped the newcomers through while the Eel crouched peeking through the door. Gently clicking the door shut they moved to Donkey. “Entry is good. I’ll find another point to get their attention from. Hit them on my signal.”
Donkey nodded. “What’s the signal?”
The Eel moved back into the vent. “You’ll know. Be ready.”
Donkey pointed at the others, then the door. “Get on that door. I’ll lead. Shit-wink behind me then Dickhead. Smallboy on rear, make sure they clear that door.”
The men arranged themselves in order. Donkey gave their final words. “Remember your basics. Your either moving or shooting. If you’re not doing either your suppressed. If you stay suppressed, your dead.”
Dave muttered under their breath behind Donkey. “I’m not gonna die.”
Donkey replied. “Stay behind me, keep moving and you won’t Shit-wink. Whatever you do, do not hesitate. Clear, the, door. Ready weapons.”
Switches clicked. Bolts clunked. Weapons live. Safeties off. The silence followed, an unbearable moment before hell would break loose, a silence heavier than the armour plates and ammo they wore combined. The quiet man’s lips clenched, mouth full of cotton, finger tapping the side of the trigger. A hand from behind patted his shoulder.
“You’ll be ok kid. I’m right here.” Snaptrap’s hand squeezed. “All you got-a do is get through that door. You go through doors every day of your life. You’re an expert at it.”
The quiet man smiled at that. Realising how dry his mouth was his trigger hand went for the water at his back. Then an explosion. Distant shouting. Bottle falling. Donkey kicked in the door and disappeared into the chaos. The bottle clattered against the floor. Dave went next. Stopped in the doorway. Standing there shocked. Spraying from the hip. Then fell. The quiet man’s eyes went wide. His visor flecked with blood. A shove from behind.
“MOVE!”
He ran. He clenched his weapon. Bullets filled the air. Objects shattered. Boxes tumbled. Tripping behind something solid he wiped his visor. Blood smeared. Vision worse. Bullets thumping at his cover. Some breaking through. Wood chipping all around. A screaming shout.
“Move up!”
Scrambling to his feet. Half blind. A mad dash. Another door. A way out. Charging forward shoulder first it buckled under his force. Falling into the next room he scrambled for his rifle. Whipping it around sights found a man. Fingers seized the trigger. Rounds ripping across the wall. Nothing connecting.
His head jetted blood. The quiet man shielded himself from the gore. The catwalk above stood the Eel. “Keep moving!”
Hands fumbling. Fingers refusing to find the magazine release. Lowering the rifle, he stomped the magazine out. Another rattled into the receiver. Bolt pulled. Clunk. Another man. Roaring fire. Flesh rendered. The corpse fell to the floor. Lost in shock the quiet man froze. Did he just do that? A familiar voice. Donkey barking. “Flank! Flank! Flank! Watch your flank kid!”
He heard the order, but his legs refused. He just killed a man. Ripped him apart. For no reason but for being in his way. He couldn’t have been older than himself. Why was he here? Did he have a family? This wasn’t how it was supposed to go down, but how else was it meant to? Wasn’t this the obvious outcome? Donkey’s voice pierced through the fog again. “Kid! You alive!? Watch your flank!”
Flank. Blinking, he stumbled toward the next door. Stomach sick, thoughts mudded. He got to the door. Oh. The gun was empty. Should reload.
The door burst open into his face. Visor cracked. Body crumpling. Rifle skittering away. Landing on hands and elbows three figures entered. Primal fear took over. Get away. You have to get away. Another two entered. Squirming and palming backward one of the men’s eyes locked with his. “Please. Don’t.”
The weapon raised. Time seemed to slow. He saw right down the barrel. “NononopleaseDON’T-!”
Five shots. Five jets from skulls. Six bodies falling to the ground. Two more entered the room. A body lurched from the boxes. A rifle held like a club. They swung as a blur. Barbaric force splitting the first’s skull open. The attacker stumbled in pain as the first fell and the second decided to act, unleashing a barrage of fire. The attacker ducked. The blur returned. Weaving through tracers. Weaving closer to the target. Grabbing the rifle with a vicious kick, the attacker raised the rifle, roaring as they brought it down. Impacts met with screaming. Again. Again. And again.
The quiet man balled up. The screaming eventually stopped, then the wet crunching as well, the only sound following being the broken rifle clattering against the ground. He could hear unknown clear confirmations being given. Not long after hands grabbed at the quiet man who responded by thrashing, screaming. “Get away!” More hands grabbed at him, trying to restrain him. “Please! Stop! NO!”
His strength eventually yielded to the assailants. Arm pressed against his throat he saw Snaptrap and Donkey. “You’re ok kid! Can you hear me? You’re ok.”
The quiet man’s breathing steadied slightly. Eye’s wild assessing the situation. Snaptrap walked to the side. Donkey spoke softly now. “You hurt?”
The quiet man shook his head, trying not to whimper. Donkey nodded, voice still soft. “Ok. Can you stand?”
The quiet man tried but stumbled back to the ground. Donkey helped him up. Looking to the side Snaptrap held the Eel’s arms checking for injury. The Eel pulled away and gave a thumbs up, helmet obscured by mushed meat and gored spray. Standing up they propped themself along the wall before walking unassisted. The group found themselves looking out the window to the street. Two police officers approached the building.
The Eel spoke through laboured breathing. “We’re too banged up to move faster than them.”
Donkey handed the quiet man to Snaptrap. “I’ve got this.” Loading a fresh magazine, he leaned out the window screaming down at the two officers. “Hey! Badge bitches!” The two officers looked up before scrambling for their pistols, pointing them at Donkey. He simply shouted back in response. “Oh go on then! Give me a little squirt with your water guns! Better yet, get some of mine!”
A barrage of fire erupted from Donkey’s rifle till it clicked. Bullets streaked the street. The officer’s dove for cover. Donkey yelled one last time. “Now fuck off before I bury ya’s!” The two officers took off sprinting from the building. Donkey looked to the Eel. “That buy enough time?”
The Eel tilted their head. “Should do until the heavy’s rock up. Let’s go.”
Walking back to the maintenance office they began from the quiet man froze in the doorway. His eyes locked with the cold vacant ones laid on the ground behind the visor, within the helmet much like the one he wore. He wasn’t anywhere as motivated as Dave, and Dave laid dead in front of him. Throughout that whole nightmare, he was alive, and Dave was dead. Why? Why not me? Words slipped through his lips. “Oh god…”
Snaptrap shook him. “Heyheyhey don’t think about it. Look at me. Don’t think about it. Your alive. That’s what matters.”
The quiet man steadied his breathing again, nodded, and entered vent behind Donkey with Snaptrap following close behind, both guiding him with patience and kindness. Back in the tunnel’s the Eel thanked Donkey and Snaptrap, tried to console the quiet man, then left for whatever else the day would bring. Donkey, Snaptrap and the quiet man trudged back to their barracks below Nocturnia.
Some time into the journey Snaptrap called out from behind. “You survived new guy. Gone from runner to gunner. I'm Snaptrap, that's Donkey, and now you get your handle. You’re a real Akula now.” The quiet man said nothing. Snaptrap pressed the point. “Aren’t you at least curious about your new name?”
The quiet man’s head hung low. “I don’t care.”
Snaptrap feigned offence. “Don’t care? This is a sacred ritual my man! Only fit for brothers forged in blood. What do you think Donkey? What’s the hero earnt?”
Donkey turned briefly, his headlamp and tired eyes scanning the quiet man before turning and walking again. “Puddle.”
The quiet man found his faze thrown momentarily. “Puddle?”
Snaptrap quipped in. “Yeah, that’s esoteric even for me. What do you mean by Puddle?”
Donkey stopped to turn his head. His eyes alone shone a shit eating grin. “Turn around kid.”
The quiet man was confused but complied. Snaptrap looked him in the eye then down his body and tried to hold back giggling. “Oh, Puddle...”
The quiet man furrowed his brow. “What? What do you mean Puddle? Why is that funny?”
Snaptrap pointed down at the quiet man’s waist, the giggling coming through. “Got a sting there buddy.”
The quiet man looked down and found their new handle. “Awwww, shit that’s. Awwwww!”
Donkey was the first to openly laugh. “Poor kid pissed all over himself and didn’t even know.”
Snaptrap let out everything they’d been holding back. “Got a piddy piss puddle~ little pid pud piss puddle~.”
Snaptrap and Donkey found themselves giggling for the rest of the trip, shooting incoherent piss quips back and forth that only made sense to the truly shattered. Eventually Puddle found himself giggling as well, trudging toward his next home in Nocturnia with purpose anew.
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