Read Online Inquisitor by Mitchell Hogan - Free Book Online Page A

the automatons were two combat-armored law enforcement officers carrying displacement cannons. All black jagged edges and sharp planes, these were not the type of proxies you saw on the streets to assist the general populace. Mostly used to combat criminal gangs, these were at the cutting edge of technology, military-grade automatons emblazoned with the logo of their manufacturer, Mercurial Logic. Lethal. And unstoppable with the weapons she had on her.
    They stopped outside the door. Two peeled off and clung to the side walls, while one clambered to hang upside down from the plascrete ceiling.
    Drawing her hand-cannon, Angel looked frantically around the room. “Can you lock the door, prevent them from opening it?”
    “I can and have, but they will probably break it down.”
    Without thinking, Angel raised her weapon and fired at the window. Glass splintered and crashed to the floor. Wind howled through the serrated opening. She shot out the window across from hers.
    “Good luck!” shouted Charlotte-Rose over the wind. The wall faded to black.
    Angel holstered her gun, took a few steps away from the window, then ran toward it, leaping across the gap. Wind tore at her clothes and hair, buffeting her body. She landed, slipping on broken glass. Hands outstretched, she fell. Pain erupted from her palms as they hit the floor. She grimaced, clenching her teeth, and pushed the pain to the back of her mind.
    Luckily, the room was empty. Lurching to her feet, she stumbled to the control pad. She punched the door open, leaving a red smear on the panel.
    There was a rasping noise, like a file on metal, then a bright flash, and the air boomed. Angel risked a glance behind her. Plasma fire cascaded around her suite as the LEPs rushed in, discharging a constant barrage without warning. Explosions scattered throughout the room and out into the gap between the buildings. Three stray bolts slammed into the wall next to her.
    She leapt through the door. “Shit, shit, shit,” she breathed.
    Outside the room, she ran toward the nearest emergency stairs. With any luck, they might think it was their fire that blew out the windows. Shouldering the door open, she paused on the landing. Her hands ached. Shards of glass stuck out of her palms. Blood dripped onto the floor. She must have left a trail.
    She ran up to the next landing, rubbing bloody smears on the stair rail, laying a false trail. A command to her implants disabled the inbuilt positioning transponder. For good measure, she flicked her hand toward the floor, spraying drops of blood all over the steps. She held her bleeding hands above her head, and with a curse, she took a deep breath and ran as fast as she could down the stairs.
    There was a clang as the door to the landing above her crashed open. Black metal legs emerged, like a spider crawling out of a hole. A proxy must have managed the jump between buildings and followed her.
    Angel drew and started firing. Shrapnel tinkled inside the stairwell. Was it only one or…? It didn’t matter. One was more than enough to kill her. And with that thought, her options narrowed to one: flight.
    She pelted headlong down the stairs, spiraling, swinging from the railing, her momentum enough she barely touched the steps. Ten floors down, she slammed into the wall and tumbled. Hands outstretched, she left smears of blood on another landing. She winced at the pain. An ominous scuttling of metal on plascrete sounded behind her.
    Angel pulled the door open and dashed through. She dropped her arms to her sides and let her blood drip. The corridor she found herself in was clear. She sprinted for the service elevators. One was open. She raced inside and pressed the button for the lower service floor. She held her palms together, clenching her teeth against the stabbing pain, to try and stop the bleeding. The shards of glass dug in deeper, but for the moment that couldn’t be helped. Her eyes watered, and a trickle of sweat ran down her cheek.