Read Online Immortal Twilight by James Axler - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: James Axler
Ads: Link
hitting the dreamers with a stray shot or a ricochet. Kane watched the man pull a bulky black metal tube from the cupboard, the familiar length of a shotgun, before he continued sweeping the room with his gaze. While he scanned with furtive eyes, Kane’s ears kept track of the man’s actions, identifying the sound of the breech of the shotgun being opened, shaky hands trying to load it.
Kane’s eyes swept the room, spotting the third figure moving close to the lobby, along with two other figures who were just waiting there, oblivious to the firefight that was building just a few feet from them. Dream addicts, Kane figured, their minds so blown out by their abuse of the dream engines that they could no longer delineate clearly between reality and hallucination. The other figure, however, was moving with purpose. Dressed in a long dress or skirt—it was hard to tell in the low light—the thin figure took heavy steps as it moved about the room.
Three then, plus the guard outside that he’d already taken care of. Fair odds for an ex-mag.
As well as his training, Kane had an added advantage. Back when he had been a magistrate, he had been renowned for something his associates called his “point-man sense,” an almost preternatural ability to sniff out danger before it happened. While the talent had often amazed his colleagues, in actuality there was nothing particularly superhuman about it—the danger sense stemmed simply from Kane’s ability to use his other senses in conjunction with a near Zen-like awareness. The fact that Kane was adept at using this ability in even the most tense of combat situations had saved his life more than once.
Crouching beside the sleepers in the dream engine, Kane targeted the counter girl with his Sin Eater, snapping off a quick burst. The bullets struck the counter, drumming across its facade in a warning. Behind the counter, the girl’s silhouette ducked lower and Kane saw the blaster shaking in her grip.
“Nice try, big man,” she taunted. “There’s no way out of here, you know. Not alive.” She was trying to sound tough, but could not disguise the tremor in her voice.
Kane figured that fear would keep her where she was for now, reducing the risk of her shooting him in the back.
Kane moved, gracefully pulling himself up from his crouch and drawing a bead on the shotgun wielder. Kane didn’t like shotguns; they were messy and dangerous, and even in an amateur’s hands they had the potential of creating a lot of damage. The figure behind the second dream engine was still resting on his backside, frantically loading his weapon. He came up, bringing the blaster around to fire just as Kane rounded the edge of the dream engine.
Kane shot first, a single shot striking the long barrel of the shotgun with the ringing clang of metal against metal. Deren—if that was his name—dropped the blaster with a startled curse, but he reacted swiftly for all that. As Kane leaped at him, the man revealed a second blaster from his left hand, a little hold-out pistol just a couple of inches in length, the kind of weapon a professional gunman would have as backup strapped to his ankle.
Kane’s leg kicked out, striking the gunman in the wrist even as he raised the weapon. The gunman held on to the blaster but he was surprised by the blow, and it took him a moment to recover. Kane delivered the follow-through by then, striking down with the leg he’d used to kick the man and using the momentum to spring up into the air in a running leap before bringing his other leg around in a brutal kick to the man’s breastbone. Kane’s opponent let out his breath in a whoof that sounded like gas catching light, falling backward against the dream engine that loomed behind him.
From across the room, a man’s voice was calling shrilly, “Careful! Don’t damage the dreameries!”
Kane landed and turned, all as one slick, athletic movement, bringing the Sin Eater’s muzzle around as he targeted the
Kane’s eyes swept the room, spotting the third figure moving close to the lobby, along with two other figures who were just waiting there, oblivious to the firefight that was building just a few feet from them. Dream addicts, Kane figured, their minds so blown out by their abuse of the dream engines that they could no longer delineate clearly between reality and hallucination. The other figure, however, was moving with purpose. Dressed in a long dress or skirt—it was hard to tell in the low light—the thin figure took heavy steps as it moved about the room.
Three then, plus the guard outside that he’d already taken care of. Fair odds for an ex-mag.
As well as his training, Kane had an added advantage. Back when he had been a magistrate, he had been renowned for something his associates called his “point-man sense,” an almost preternatural ability to sniff out danger before it happened. While the talent had often amazed his colleagues, in actuality there was nothing particularly superhuman about it—the danger sense stemmed simply from Kane’s ability to use his other senses in conjunction with a near Zen-like awareness. The fact that Kane was adept at using this ability in even the most tense of combat situations had saved his life more than once.
Crouching beside the sleepers in the dream engine, Kane targeted the counter girl with his Sin Eater, snapping off a quick burst. The bullets struck the counter, drumming across its facade in a warning. Behind the counter, the girl’s silhouette ducked lower and Kane saw the blaster shaking in her grip.
“Nice try, big man,” she taunted. “There’s no way out of here, you know. Not alive.” She was trying to sound tough, but could not disguise the tremor in her voice.
Kane figured that fear would keep her where she was for now, reducing the risk of her shooting him in the back.
Kane moved, gracefully pulling himself up from his crouch and drawing a bead on the shotgun wielder. Kane didn’t like shotguns; they were messy and dangerous, and even in an amateur’s hands they had the potential of creating a lot of damage. The figure behind the second dream engine was still resting on his backside, frantically loading his weapon. He came up, bringing the blaster around to fire just as Kane rounded the edge of the dream engine.
Kane shot first, a single shot striking the long barrel of the shotgun with the ringing clang of metal against metal. Deren—if that was his name—dropped the blaster with a startled curse, but he reacted swiftly for all that. As Kane leaped at him, the man revealed a second blaster from his left hand, a little hold-out pistol just a couple of inches in length, the kind of weapon a professional gunman would have as backup strapped to his ankle.
Kane’s leg kicked out, striking the gunman in the wrist even as he raised the weapon. The gunman held on to the blaster but he was surprised by the blow, and it took him a moment to recover. Kane delivered the follow-through by then, striking down with the leg he’d used to kick the man and using the momentum to spring up into the air in a running leap before bringing his other leg around in a brutal kick to the man’s breastbone. Kane’s opponent let out his breath in a whoof that sounded like gas catching light, falling backward against the dream engine that loomed behind him.
From across the room, a man’s voice was calling shrilly, “Careful! Don’t damage the dreameries!”
Kane landed and turned, all as one slick, athletic movement, bringing the Sin Eater’s muzzle around as he targeted the
Similar Books
