Pack Rat prided himself on being, for the most part, above many of the base instinctual responses to stimuli that many animal-blooded metahumans were slave to. However, having seven enraged cat women charging at him and yowling for blood was more than enough to send the ratling's flight response screaming into the driver's seat and slamming on the gas. The man-rat was tearing down the halls, slowing only to fire the occasional wild spray of rifle fire over his shoulder. About two dozen steps behind, the seven sisters were bounding after their prey. They ran along the steel floors on all fours, snarling and spitting as they ducked and weaved to avoid Pack Rat's panicked bursts.
"Well... you used to dream about women chasing you," Pack muttered to himself in between bursts of fire, "Careful what you wish for."
The halls were again lit with swirling red lights and filled with the sounds of blaring klaxon sirens. The rat hybrid's lungs were burning with each labored breath he drew in, and his exertions were causing his left shoulder and right forearm to throb. Pack eyed the various coded wall marks as he dashed down the halls. He knew going back the way he came was futile. Even if he could reach the access hatch he used to enter the complex, he'd be torn apart before he could haul it open and dive back into the earth. His mind raced, clutching for any possible escape route. The markings on the walls provided the answer, and an idea dawned. Pack took a hard left turn at the next intersection and sped down the passageway. The enraged mob of felines skidded a bit as they rounded the corner, but were quickly hot on Pack Rat's tail.
The rodent followed the wall markings for several more turns, heading for the elevators. His heart sank, however, as he whirled around the last corner. In front of him a squad of six VIPER soldiers in heavy armor blocked the hall. Three were kneeling, while the other three stood over them. All had their energy rifles drawn and ready.
"There he is! Fire!" one of them commanded.
The air crackled and sizzled as bolts of electric blue energy streaked towards the rat. Pack fought through his initial instinct, which was to pull up short and back pedal. His commando training told him that was suicide. He'd walk right back into the waiting claws of the huntresses behind him. Instead, he surged forward, letting his rifle clatter to the ground and dropping to all fours. Normally the rat hybrid was loathed to move about in this manner. He felt it was undignified and not just a little beneath him, but the oncoming plasma fire necessitated that he create a smaller target and still maintain his speed. Pack launched himself at the wall, planting his feet and palms against the steel structure, and then sprang towards the opposite side, trying to avoid the enemy fire.
Coruscating streaks of neon blue fire sailed past the ratling. Some of them impacted the wall and left sizzling holes, while others flew further down the hall and out of sight. Pack rat felt an electric jolt in his chest as one bold struck him squarely, blasting a hole in his chest plate, followed by a much more severe, searing pain that felt surprisingly cold in his right calf. Pack squealed and stumbled but recovered and leapt towards the soldiers. His jump was intended to carry him over the squad, but the pain in his calf took some of the vigor out of his legs. Instead pack cleared the line of kneeling soldiers and plowed head first into one of the three standing troopers. Simultaneously, the seven sisters came barreling around the corner on the rat's heels. Several of the in-flight plasma bolts that had missed Pack Rat impacted near the rampaging throng of cats. A few of them stumbled to avoid the energy bolts, and a collective, defiant screech rose up as the felines regained traction and charged forward.
Pack Rat and his impromptu landing pad hit the steel floors and tumbled several feet before coming to a stop, with the rat perched atop his surprised companion. A series of high-pitched screeches, followed by cries of shock and pain, erupted behind them as the sisters began to tear apart the soldiers in their path, choosing to simply go through them rather than over or around, such was their blind blood lust. Both the soldier and Pack looked at the massacre in progress, then at each other. A sardonic grin spread across the rodent's face.
"Heh. Women. Go fig," Pack chuckled.
"Tell me about it," came the metallic reply through the trooper's full-faced helmet.
Pack almost felt bad when he shot the soldier in the leg with his revolver, which he had surreptitiously drawn as the pair had topped to the ground. The huge handgun shredded armor and flesh, spraying crimson all over the grey metal plates of the floor. The rat hybrid quickly hauled himself to his feet, scooping up the energy rifle that had scattered a few feet away when he collided with the unfortunate VIPER member now left screaming on the ground. His right forearm was leaking steadily through his coat now, spattering ruby droplets on the floor as he ran, and the wound his Pack's left shoulder was pulsing mercilessly. Now, as he limped along, he could clearly see a sizable chunk of his right calf had been seared away by the plasma fire a moment ago.
"Taking me apart piece by piece," he grumbled as he reached his goal, the elevator doors.
Some distance back, the last of the overwhelmed VIPER squad fell in a crumpled, bloody heap, having outlived their usefulness as an improvised speed bump for the vengeful cat women. Pack spared a glance back at the blood-soaked mob of cat hybrids. The distraction had bought him some time, but not nearly as much as he would have liked. He cringed as he felt the sisters return their burning gazes back on him and move to catch up.
Fear and desperation lent the rat just enough strength to pry open the elevator doors and step inside. The triggered alarms had placed the entire facility on lock down, so the controls were non-functional. Pack looked upwards and breathed a sigh of relief. The elevator car had a maintenance hatch. Wasting no time jimmying it open Pack shot the locking mechanism with Wynona. He immediately regretted firing the fifty caliber handgun inside a small metal box, his ears ringing from the report, but he pushed that aside and hopped up to haul himself up through the opened hatch and into the darkened elevator shaft above. As he heaved himself through the hatch, Pack felt something snap inside his left shoulder, and the pulsing ache on his left side erupted into a tearing, nearly blinding pain.
The rat man screeched and flopped onto his back, panting and kicking up a cloud of settled dust. His original aim was to climb the shaft to the surface, but as he stared up from his back into the murky darkness above the futility of that idea washed over him like a tsunami. His right arm was beginning to lose feeling, whatever just gave way in his left shoulder made that arm useless for climbing, and his wounded calf was beginning to lose the initial numbness from the plasma burn.
Pack could hear the huntresses gathering near the elevator door, snickering to each other.
"You're done, vermin," one of them called out, her voice a throaty, mocking purr, "come on down here and will make it quick... clean."
"We will?" another whispered.
"Shut... up..." the first voice hissed.
Pack saw what these women had just done to that squad of VIPER troops, and those were supposedly their own men. He could only imagine what mercy lay in store for the rat that just blew up their beloved creator. Gritting his teeth against the pain in his limbs, his right hand reached for a small device clipped to his belt, a cylindrical black metal tube with a flip-top cap. Flipping the hinged black cap open revealed a red button. Pack Rat held the detonator up and stared at it a moment. He brought enough explosives in his duffel bag to start world war three. About half of that was squirreled away in various spots along his path to the main laboratory. The rest of the payload was still sitting in the lab where he had dropped the bag, presumably forgotten in the mad rush of his attempted escape. A push of the button on this small device would be the end of it. It would be the end of Director Medford and his cruelty. It would be the end of VIPER's cloning program. The end of the huntresses. The end of Pack Rat.
"He's not coming down," a voice growled from below.
"Probably bled so much he can't move."
"Must be. I can smell it everywhere."
"Katja, go up and bring the scum down."
"Why me?"
"Do it!"
"Fine."
Pack heard the huntress step into the elevator car. He clutched the detonator in his fist tightly. His hand shook as he raised his thumb over the button. The ratling clenched his eyes shut, as his digit descended... The few tears escaping the rat's clenched eyes could be dismissed as a response to the overwhelming pain of his wounds, but Pack was forced to quietly admit it was more out of a sense of defeat... and regret.
"Come back."
Sahara's words echoed in Pack Rat's head again. His eyes flew open and landed on the elevator cables and the counterweights far above. A crazed, delirious plan suddenly took hold, and his heart fluttered with a giddy sort of hope. The wounded rat heaved himself to his feet, clipping the detonator back to his belt as he stood. At that same moment a tawny, brown-furred head topped with a mane of wild golden hair poked up from the hatch. The huntress looked at Pack Rat with a combination of annoyance and surprise. She snarled and reached for the rodent's booted, blood-soaked ankle.
Pack ignored the distraction and clamped his right hand onto the main cable anchored to the top of the elevator car, his iron grip locking in place firmly. With the other hand he aimed the confiscated plasma rifle at the cables anchor point and squeezed the trigger. The huntress's claws dug into the rat hybrid's ankle, piercing the thick leather of his combat boots as a flashing blue bolt sheared away the heavy, taught cable. There was a reverberating metallic 'twang' which echoed through the elevator shaft. With a sudden lurch the cable, with rat attached, shot upwards. The black-clad huntress was likewise attached to Pack Rat and was drug along, releasing a surprised yelp as the pair streaked upwards towards the top of the shaft.
Pack Rat squealed through gritted teeth as the huntress's claws tore though his boot and into his left ankle. A moment later he felt a sickening pop in his right shoulder as the force of the ascent and the added weight of the huntress jerked his right shoulder out of socket. He dropped the energy rifle and, while fighting to remain conscious reached for the detonator on his belt. The huntress reached as well, scrabbling frantically to interfere with her victim's movements. The floors were racing by in a blur as the two mutants rocketed towards the surface. There was a rush of wind as the elevator's massive counterweight flew past on its descent.
Pack rat raised his left foot and brought it crashing down repeatedly into the face of the cat woman attached to his ankle. Each blow brought a defiant yowl from the cat woman and an agonizing pull against his dislocated shoulder, but it gave him just enough time to press the button on the detonator at his belt. There was a split second delay, followed by a dozen or sow low-pitched, reverberating thrums as the smaller scattered charges decimated their targets. Another brief pause after that was punctuated by a deafening explosion as the remaining charges in the abandoned duffel bag detonated. The entire elevator shaft shook and rumbled from the subterranean explosion. Fragments of metal began to rain down on them from above as some of the weaker structures above them gave way form the force of the blast. Both Pack Rat and Katja the huntress looked back down the shaft, eyes wide. A wall of flame, tinged green and blue from the strange chemicals of the lab, was racing upwards towards them at a frightening rate. Both animal hybrids screamed out loud, all thoughts of revenge or retaliation lost amid the cacophony.
The concussion wave hit them before the fire. Pack felt a sudden upward surge hit him from below, and then everything went white. There was a sudden silence. An almost peaceful floating sensation washed over Pack Rat. He had just enough time to begin to appreciate it before that was snatched away by crunching sounds and more pain. Then... blackness
