"Oh this is bullshit!" Ricochets bounced off the metal walls of the ship as he ran. This had not worked out exactly as he'd planned. How had he tricked this many greedy bastards into helping him? Did he put up a recruiting booth somewhere? Shit!
"There he is!" one of them shouted, "Kill him!"
"Oh come on!" he shouted and bolted down the side of the ship toward the bow. The Andromeda was just the latest in this Soul Collector's long line of ships. The Lusitania was his most notable, but there had been many before that. He was experienced. He was devious. He was a righteous asshole. There had to be a way to beat him though.
Unfortunately… not this time. As soon as he reached the bow, he looked left, then right, all around him, and even up. All he saw was a bloody mess, and not a soul that could help him. He couldn't believe the old 'cord-slicing-across-the-dance-floor' trick still worked – but it did. Now if only the guy hadn't stolen HIS trick. He backed himself up to the tip of the bow and leaned on the railing.
"Let's turn this guy into Swiss cheese!" a man shouted as a small group, armed with automatic weapons of every kind, gathered around and readied their weapons. A second later all their weapons were aimed at him – and he had nowhere to go.
"Hold your fire!" came a voice from behind the group, and it parted as a man walked forward – he, in a way, looked like Gerard Butler. "Well, well, well… if it isn't the traitor?" he smirked.
"I am NOT a TRAITOR damn it!" he shouted.
"Oh, is that so… Ferriman?"