Kill Switch: Chapter 57
Middle Managers
Lasers bounce off the walls, zapping sensors and cracking camera lenses, while Yide returns fire, hoping for the best. We crouch, huddled together. Yide sticks the gun around the corner, blasting away, not even looking where she’s shooting.
“We’re outnumbered,” she says. “I don’t see how we can make it past all these Middle Managers.”
“I’ve got an idea,” I say.
And I tell them my plan.
“It’s worth a shot,” Bunnfield says. “We have to do something. Otherwise we’re just sitting ducks.”
“Fine,” Yide says. “Yell on three.”
“One, two, three,” I say.
We all yell, saying stuff, like, “ugh, I’ve been hit,” and Yide kind of half tosses her gun into the corridor, leaving it within reach. We all hit the ground with a thud.
The shooting stops.
“Central,” a middle manager says, “what’s the gaze on Corridor 9?”
A static voice answers through a talker. “Down. I repeat. The vibekills are down.”
“I can see a blaster. Are there any other weapons?”
“Negative,” the voice says. “No other weapons. You are clear to proceed.”
Teflon hisses. Boots pound against plastic.
We wait for the middle managers to reach us.
I hear them breathing.
“They look hella spent,” one of them says.
“Check their pulses.”
A hand lands on my neck, which is when Claudette swings her leg around, scissor kicking the middle manager.
“Ugh,” he says, his knees buckling.
He releases his blaster. The gun hovers, floating. I roll from my side to my back. I gaze the gun falling. Reach out my hand. Feel the treaded handle slam into my palm. I tighten my grip.
Another middle manager hurdles toward me, but before he can unholster his gun, I blast his chest with two laser pulses. Zip, zap. He stumbles, gripping at his heart, and falls on top of the other middle manager.
And now the horde converges.
I pulse lasers into every gilet in sight, and meanwhile Yide reaches for her blaster, and X and Claudette and Bunnfield all take down a middle manager or two, bowling ball style, sending the entourage tumbling, creating even more mayhem and confusion.
X gets his hands on a blaster. Then Claudette. Then Bunnfield. And in a flash, we’re all armed, standing above a pile of middle managers. Some are dead. Others just injured.
I step over the entourage.
“Which way?” I ask.
Bunnfield puts on a middle manager’s visor.
“We’re in Corridor 9 of Pod 65,” he says. “It looks like there’s a goo factory this way, attached to a goo court. And then, past the goo court, the elevator...”
“I know that goo court,” I say. “It’s where Nighthawks is.”
“Is it crowded?” Bunnfield asks.
“Usually, yes.”
“That’s good. We could use some cover.”
“Speaking of,” Yide says. “Let’s put on these gilets.”
We zip up the gilets and head toward the goo factory.