SDC 78

I left his place undefended and produced a small speaker, letting Nirvana blast into the dark. Why? Because why not. If I was going to fight a giant alligator, it might as well be to a kick-ass soundtrack.

It took less than five minutes for him to find me. Something stirred in the water, a small wake heading my way. I took off at very human speeds, even fired back clumsily with a pistol.

Killer Croc only sped up. I spun around the corner with exaggerated care, nearly pitching into the water, then leaped across the channel, landing with a splash that sent vibrations through the tunnel. Behind me, the water exploded as the monster rose with a breathy, stinking roar that shook the sewers.

I picked up speed, letting myself cut loose a little, and dove straight into his den, spinning around with a 50-cal sniper rifle materializing in my hand.

Croc barreled in a moment later. He was titanic, over eight feet tall—a foot taller than Cat's intel suggested and twice as wide. I'd suspected as much from the wake earlier, but seeing him up close was something else. His scales were dark green and jagged like spikes, his yellow eyes baleful slits under heavy brows. A jutted snout full of jagged teeth pointed in my direction, and his tail whipped behind him like a living flail.

I took all this in within a heartbeat before detonating the bombs.

Croc went mad, roaring and swinging blindly as the room filled with hissing gas and light. My sniper barked. Two rounds punched through his knees, shattering bone. Another tore through his shoulder. The last ripped into his left lung. He staggered, bellowing in agony as he lunged at me, claws ready to split me into five neat pieces.

Inverse flickered on as I raised my hand. An immovable cloak layered over a poisoned dagger, I produced from my Cursed Inventory.

I stabbed forward, Overdrive surging, and buried the blade to the hilt in his thigh before twisting away. Croc stumbled with a pained roar, crashing into the wall as I retreated, Overdrive flashing through my veins. I slammed into the far wall, barreling through a shelf stacked with electronics and clothes.

He shook himself, blood gushing down his scaled chest as he snarled, searching for me. I raised my sniper and fired. The .50 cal round exploded against his massive, uninjured shoulder, jerking him sideways in a crimson spray.

I racked the bolt and fired again. Then again. The final round punched through his ribs and sent him crashing down, gasping raggedly.

But I knew it wasn't nearly enough. The file said he regenerated almost instantly. Best case scenario? He'd pass out from the cocktail of paralytics and poisons I'd pumped into him. Worst case?

Well…that was what my katana was for.

He started to push himself upright, muscles trembling under his scaly hide. I didn't hesitate. I fired three more shots into his exposed stomach, each round punching into his softer underbelly and ripping it open like wet paper. He collapsed with a guttural groan, and I moved, vaulting over his massive body to plant two more sleeping grenades near his snout. Then I sprinted out, slamming the thick metal grate that doubled as his door shut behind me. 

They went off with a muffled roar.

No clue how long that would hold. But it should buy us an hour at least.

When I reached the vault, Cat was working intently, stethoscope pressed to the gleaming steel as she turned the dial with practiced ease. Slim stood beside her, scanning the bricks with some x-ray gadget.

"Done already?" he asked without looking up.

"For now," I replied, checking the tunnels behind me. "How far out are we?"

Slim glanced at Cat. She held up two fingers, eyes still on the vault.

"Twenty minutes at least," he said. His voice was tight. "Sounded like you were fighting a dragon back there."

I shrugged lightly, ignoring the ache in my shoulder. "His bark's worse than his bite. But I'm going to take a lap just in case. It'd be a miracle if no one heard us."

"Radio in if you see anything."

My first stop was Croc's lair. He was still down, moaning, some wounds already scabbing over. I spotted a flattened bullet on the ground. I retrieved my dagger, cleaning the poison-coated blade on his tattered bedsheet. Leaving evidence here was asking for trouble.

I moved on, checking all major access points. Nothing…until the last tunnel.

Two figures patrolled the area, pistols at their hips and short swords strapped to their backs. Their gait was familiar.

Jerry and Phillip. Old sparring partners from my underground days.

Phillip was trimmer now, his bare arms covered in greenish vine tattoos. A living plant coiled around his neck and shoulders, sprouting ivy-colored leaves. Jerry looked similar—lean, wary, but with dark circles under his eyes that spoke of exhaustion and paranoia. He wore the same leafy appendages.

Whatever those things did, it couldn't be good. But I had ideas.

"Something's wrong," Phillip murmured, glancing down the tunnel.

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean we stick our nose in it," Jerry shot back.

"He's upset," Phillip pressed. "He doesn't get that way unless there's a reason."

"He's a man-eating crocodile mutant," Jerry retorted. "Probably just scared off some rich kids searching for sewer monsters"

"All the more reason to check. If there's a body, Ivy will want to know."

"If there's a body left, you mean."

Phillip snorted and turned away. "Let's get this over with."

They moved with enviable ease, stepping over pipes and stone, heading straight for the vault. I couldn't let that happen. I wasn't keen on hurting them, and killing them was off the table. So I did the next best thing.

I dropped my Cloak just long enough to let my shadow flicker in the dim light, then slipped away.

"Did you see that?" Phillip hissed.

"Yeah," Jerry said, already moving after me.

I led them away from the vault, deeper and deeper into the sewers until we reached a massive cistern where water cascaded into a whirlpool below. An old control room overlooked the space, sealed off with a rusted chain.

I ripped the chain off with a single tug and shoved the door open, leaving it swinging in the dim light. They heard me immediately and gave chase, boots splashing through ankle-deep water. Their movements were faster than I remembered, the vine tattoos on their bodies flexing and tightening.

They entered the room cautiously, scanning the dust-choked consoles and rat nests in the corners. Their breathing was loud, rough, close enough to pierce my Cloak.

I moved.

Flaring Cursed Reinforcement, I vaulted over them in a blur and slammed the door shut. Chains looped around the lock a heartbeat later.

Panic exploded inside. They hammered at the door, shouting.

"Let us out!" Jerry yelled. "Ivy will have your hide for this!"

"You have no idea who you're dealing with!" Phillip roared, pounding against the metal.

"Sorry, guys," I whispered under my breath.

Then I took off, tapping into the upper limit of my Reinforcement. I skimmed across the water, rebounded off walls, and sprinted so fast my feet barely kissed the concrete before I was airborne again. I made it back to the vault just as Cat cracked it open, arriving in a blur of motion.

She flinched, eyes widening slightly.

"You didn't think you were going to miss this, did you?" I asked, grinning.

Inside, the vault held hard cash in several denominations, sculptures, art, a few paintings. Nothing I could authenticate, but I figured the loss was worth it for those contacts.

We loaded my inventory rapidly, the entire cache filling just two of my nine slots, and retraced our steps in silence.

Our retreat was smooth…until we reached Croc's den.

The metal door I'd used to seal it off was nowhere in sight. A trail of blood led into the dark water beyond.

My blood ran cold. I summoned my katana, holding it low and loose as I scanned the shadows. Slim and Cat mirrored my tension, eyes sharp and wary.

"I thought you said you took care of him," Slim muttered.

"Obviously it didn't take," I replied, senses stretching out for any hint of movement. The only sound was the trickle of water and the faint creaking of roots shifting above us. They seemed…thicker now.

That's not good.

"We need to get to the surface," Cat said, voice clipped and focused. "He won't follow."

"The nearest manhole is just around the corner," I said. "Stay close. After what I did to him, he's probably out for blood."

We moved quickly, silence settling heavy between us. My heart hammered in my chest, dread curling in my gut. This wasn't over. Not by a long shot.

We reached the manhole without incident. Selina went up first, then Slim. I followed, every rung creaking under my weight as I climbed, senses flaring with anticipation, waiting for the inevitable attack.

Just before I reached the surface, a sudden pressure snapped around my ankle.