Chapter 9 · Clinic Bloodbath

"Get your damn hands off the console, Vera! You're going to fry the whole grid!"

Echo’s voice didn't just scream in my head; it felt like a jagged piece of glass scraping against my frontal lobe. I didn't listen. I slammed my palm onto the override switch, forcing the clinic’s security shutters to crash down with a bone-shaking thud.

"Shut up and find me a way out!" I yelled, my voice raw.

I spun around just as the first mercenary burst through the side door. He was a heavy—more chrome than man—with a hydraulic arm that looked like it could punch through a vault. He didn't even get a chance to scream. I slid across the sterile white tile, my boots screeching, and drove my combat blade upward, right under the seam of his neck plating.

Blue synthetic blood sprayed my face. It smelled like ozone and burnt plastic.

"Oh, lovely," Echo drawled, his tone shifting from panic to that insufferable, smug boredom. "Now you've got coolant on your cheek. Very chic. By the way, there are six more of them in the hallway, and your left actuator is lagging by twelve milliseconds. You're slowing down, sweetheart.