Fic: Arc, Part Nineteen
Aug. 21st, 2009 08:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jeriendhalFinally got a bit of my writing mojo back this week
Whitepelt cleaned out her mouth again, spat, then gulped up more water from the sink and spat again. The coppery tang in her mouth still lingered, and she could still see a tinge of red in the fur around her mouth, but she didn’t dare take the time to rinse again. Instead she stepped gingerly over the pools of blood gathering around the bodies of Barlock and the other guard, taking the code keys out of Barloch’s hand and pressing them against the lock of Marty’s cell.
“Can you walk?” she asked, unstrapping him from the bed.
“I believe so, with a little help,” he replied. He sat up and his eyes nearly rolled back into his head, but then he put down his uninjured foot on the floor and managed to stand with her support.
“These cells must be monitored. Why haven’t more guards come in to catch us?” Whitepelt said, glancing up at the cameras mounted in the walls.
“The Goddess only knows. Let us take advantage of her largess while we can.”
“Right.” She leaned Marty against the wall briefly to retrieve Barloch’s energy pistol, then together they limped down the hallway to the guard station at the entrance. She keyed the door open, pointing the pistol at the station chair, but the guard that should have been there monitoring the cells was missing. “What? Where is he?” she wondered.
“How very odd,” Marty said, though he didn’t sound surprised at all.
She checked the security log, which was open to a text repeat of a verbal message from one of Barloch’s lieutenants. “”Riot in progress…?” What’s a riot?”
Marty, who had been playing with the monitor cameras, pointed to the display and said, “That is a riot.”
She saw an image from one of the cameras set in one of the male dormitories. It was filled with several hundred vulpine of both sexes, many of them armed with pistols, crouching behind barricades made from overturned bunks and lockers. The air was filled smoke and there were several piles of foam where the fire suppression system had been activated. There were also a number of bodies on the floor, both vulpine and creo in security uniforms.
“What are they doing? Why are they fighting?”
“Because they decided they don’t want to be cogs in the machine anymore.
TBC
Whitepelt cleaned out her mouth again, spat, then gulped up more water from the sink and spat again. The coppery tang in her mouth still lingered, and she could still see a tinge of red in the fur around her mouth, but she didn’t dare take the time to rinse again. Instead she stepped gingerly over the pools of blood gathering around the bodies of Barlock and the other guard, taking the code keys out of Barloch’s hand and pressing them against the lock of Marty’s cell.
“Can you walk?” she asked, unstrapping him from the bed.
“I believe so, with a little help,” he replied. He sat up and his eyes nearly rolled back into his head, but then he put down his uninjured foot on the floor and managed to stand with her support.
“These cells must be monitored. Why haven’t more guards come in to catch us?” Whitepelt said, glancing up at the cameras mounted in the walls.
“The Goddess only knows. Let us take advantage of her largess while we can.”
“Right.” She leaned Marty against the wall briefly to retrieve Barloch’s energy pistol, then together they limped down the hallway to the guard station at the entrance. She keyed the door open, pointing the pistol at the station chair, but the guard that should have been there monitoring the cells was missing. “What? Where is he?” she wondered.
“How very odd,” Marty said, though he didn’t sound surprised at all.
She checked the security log, which was open to a text repeat of a verbal message from one of Barloch’s lieutenants. “”Riot in progress…?” What’s a riot?”
Marty, who had been playing with the monitor cameras, pointed to the display and said, “That is a riot.”
She saw an image from one of the cameras set in one of the male dormitories. It was filled with several hundred vulpine of both sexes, many of them armed with pistols, crouching behind barricades made from overturned bunks and lockers. The air was filled smoke and there were several piles of foam where the fire suppression system had been activated. There were also a number of bodies on the floor, both vulpine and creo in security uniforms.
“What are they doing? Why are they fighting?”
“Because they decided they don’t want to be cogs in the machine anymore.
TBC
