Chapter XVI: Pursuit Perfect

AN:

Hey there, Fan-fic-folks!

Apologies for the delay in uploading. The delays were caused by illness, technical issues, and by my newfound obsession with Hollow Knight. It's a Castlevania game with some serious Dark-Souls-esque Eldritch Undertones and it's Amazing.

Thanks for reading and, as always, please review.

"Fuck! Where'd they go?" Chloe snapped. Her gun came up in an instant as she glared harshly at the corridors around us like they were complicit in this crime against her.

Copse let her go off on one, choosing instead to lean and loom around the area like a weird, slightly tipsy lamp-post. It made me grateful that our rebooting of the generator had brought the lights back up. If we were still under the harsh red of the emergency lighting, that looming would go from weird to immensely creepy.

It turned out there were six corridors leading away from the small plaza-like room we'd found ourselves in. Though, Chloe had quickly determined that one was a service corridor to an oversight room, and thus entirely useless to us, so practically-speaking it was only five.

I watched Copse stalk about, pausing at the entrance of each corridor and waiting a moment, then moving on again. He swore under his breath, something harsh and cutting that I didn't quite catch. "This way!"

"How do you know?"

"The bloody trail! The thing they had with them left a trail! We can follow it!" He pointed down and we saw that same bloody phlegm across the floor. It lead to the second tunnel to the left, which I think was... Leotown!

Leotown was the station's equivalent of a gym, but due to the heavily physical side of the main industries here, it was decided that an entire sector would be dedicated to providing any exercise or exertion that a station-dweller could want. For those on company payroll anyway, a fact that Victoria was still bitter about.

Chloe laughed darkly. "Shit, we're getting too used to blood to even notice."

Was she right? Were we getting too used to this? I wasn't sure, myself. She spoke with utter confidence. Chloe very much believed it.

We left down the corridor, Copse leading the way with his eyes on the trail. He seemed to prowl along the corridors, muscles taut like he was about to try leap across the space. I'm not sure why he would, mind you, but it was what it looked like.

We took three more corridors - right, left, left - before we finally caught up to the Unitologists. Copse saw them first, being at the front, and gestured madly at the rest of us to get down. We hit the deck and waited. He stayed crouched, hidden in the brush of a small planter-thing. He was the only one with a view on them, so we all just watched him. His face went hard as an all-too-human scream reached us, followed by uproarious laughter.

The Unitologists were playing with someone. I shuffled forward on my belly until I was right up next to him. The planter really wasn't big enough for two of us, so I stayed down and just looked up. "We have to help them!" I mouthed.

He shook his head. "Too many. They found some friends. We'd be dead before we even reached 'em."

We made it passed a whole horde of them with that woman's help before, how impossible could it be this time? I poked slightly outward, keeping as much of my body flat and behind the planter-thing as possible. Oh. Oh no.

That's a lot of Unitologists.

I immediately rolled back into full cover and looked back up at Copse again. "Fuck."

"Yep. We'd be in for some fun times, if we tried anything."

"Fuck." I said again, and we lay there and listened to the screams.

Eventually, I couldn't take any more.

Before they could stop me, I jumped up from behind the planter-thing and gaped as the small sea of monsters - human and once-human - standing around the still-screaming people. For a moment, they all just looked at me in shock. Then, in a moment of truly inspired immaturity, I stuck out my tongue and yelled "Meep meep!" before tossing a grenade (and where the fuck I'd gotten that from, I had no idea) into their midst and running for dear life.

Yep. This was a great fucking plan. Max Caulfield, Suuuuper Genius.

I could feel my footsteps in my chest every time my heels hit the floor. My breaths were coming quicker and harder the longer I kept going. Dog, I felt like I'd been running for so long. My feet pounded on the metal floors of whatever corridor I'd ended up in and uncomfortably loud echoes rang out from each one. If I wasn't already being chased, I might actually be worried about that.

I came to a T-Junction and immediately dashed left. Barely a moment later, a metal spike rammed into the spot I'd vacated.

Woo. That was close.

Too close. I could've sworn the thing scraped me, but I didn't have time to check.

I could hear them behind me. Shrieking and slavering and shooting and shouting. Even the humans chasing me were barely more than monsters at this point. The thrill of the chase had apparently taken what little intelligence they had left.

Wow. That was mean.

Wait, why am I bothered about that? These maniacs are shooting at me!

Although they seemed to have stopped doing that, oddly. Shit. What if they're going to go back to the others? Oh no, oh dog, I've gotta... I've gotta- Okay. Go, Max.

I leaned back, slowing ever so slightly as I yelled another "Meep meep!" - though this was slightly more shrill than the last one was. That one was surprisingly calm for such a stupid idea. Last time went better, though. This time, I yelled and ran and I was promptly blasted for my impudence. The bullets colliding with my shoulder, ripping and tearing into my flesh, sent me into a spin that I barely managed to roll with. The roll did take me into a wall with a hard slam that felt like it broke a bone. Can't have everything, I guess. A lance of pain went up my arm and I choked back a cry.

The footsteps rapidly increasing in pace brought me back to reality and I scrambled to my feet to start running once more. I stumbled briefly when I had to take that first corner again, but otherwise I managed to keep upright and moving.

Shoot. Don't get cocky, Max. They're still dangerous, even if they are totally bonkers.

Heh. Shoot. I clutched the bullet wound tighter, marvelling at my own genius. It didn't really help. The clutching, not the marvelling. As I clutched, my shoulder twanged and I yelped and let go. Another round of bulletfire, accompanied by three of those metal-spike things, scraped past me and decorated the wall ahead.

Another close one. Without thinking, I spun and darted for a nearby door. The pain was making it more and more difficult to think, but I knew I wanted to get away. To get them away from those people they were playing with. Like animals and their food.

The door slid open and closed just in time for my closest pursuer to run right into it. His head donked on the hard metal. Shit. I heard a low curse and he barked out an order to find another way. I heard the familiar clank-tear of vent covers being ripped off their hinges and the rapid clank-step of moving monsters. Shit again. No time to catch my breath. I'd have to move quickly.

I turned around to find a way out and- Woah.

The room was filled with variedly-sized cat statues. Every one of them angled so they stared right at me. In reality, I suppose they were staring at the doorway to greet customers, but in the dark, in my panicked state, I couldn't help but think they were staring at me. It was fucking creepy.

I walked slowly forward, like I was trying to get past an angry animal. I made it about halfway before I stopped myself, shook my head. What the heck was I doing? They're toys! Or decor items, whatever. They're not going to hurt me. I upped my pace and made for the back exit. Unlike the monsters, I couldn't make it out through the vents. I needed a door.

Is it just me or did that sound kinda dramatically-badass-one-linery? Huh. Maybe I am going insane. No, Heroic. I meant Heroic. Not really appropriate for this genre, though. It's more run-scream-and-die than run-and-gun. Still. Not screaming now. It'd bring the monsters in.

I pushed open the back exit door and found myself in a smallish office space. Desk, chair, filing cabinets, 'hang in there' kitty picture. I really wasn't sure what I was expecting, poking around back here. Hum. I appear to have locked myself in a metal box. A metal box filled with creepy cat statues. This is just-

Blood and gore splatter the walls. A voice, dark and oddly Scottish, intones a long, rhythmic chant on the edge of my perception. I focus, having nothing else to do really, and it becomes clear. "Make us whole. Turn it off. Take the picture. Bring them in. Bring them home." Over and over again, nothing else in my head but those words. Those odd, rhythmic, lulling words. I close my eyes, letting it wash over me like that cheesy whale music Victoria used to listen to. I never understood it before, but now it makes so much sense. It's just so... relaxing.

A scream, and the dream broke. My eyes flicked open just in time to see something metal bend in the other room and monsters poured in. I blinked.

I darted for the desk and got under it. My breaths started to come more harshly, more quickly, but I jammed my hand over my mouth and tried to stay quiet. Silent like a mouse. There was a round of gunfire outside the doors and some cheerful yelling from the cultist maniacs who'd been chasing me.

Shoot. I knew this was a bad idea.

Oh. Shoot. I looked down to my bleeding shoulder, then up into the face of a nightmare.

It screamed at me.

I screamed back.

It was weird.

On instinct, I kicked out at the creature. The heel of my boot smacked into the side of its head. I wasn't sure what I was expecting to happen, but an agonised whine followed by it launching itself at me would probably have been it if I had been sure. The jaw clacked desperately as it wriggled at me, and I finally got a good look at those mandibles.

They weren't mandibles.

They were fingers. Long, bony fingers with two too many joints that seemed to grasp and grope forward in a desperate attempt to drag me into its mouth. Small mercy that the thing's blade arms couldn't contort to get in at me, or at least couldn't contort to get uncaught from the desktop.

It was barely inches from my face, and mildly acidic spittle and flecks of saliva flicked everywhere as it moved. I knew it was acidic due to the burning sensation as it hit my skin. Something about it made me want to itch. To pull, to tear, to flay my skin and write on the walls and to take the picture and to make them whole. To join with them. Convergence. Unity. Togetherness. Forev-

BLAM.

The monster's head exploded and a solid metal boot planted itself in the middle of the thing's back. Two hands, more massive than I thought a human hand could be, reached down and grasped the joint of the right blade-arm then pulled. It came away with a sickeningly wet squealch-sqlorp. Then it tore off the left.

Then, the hand reached for me and I screamed and I screamed and I screamed.

"Max?" The hand asked.

I stopped screaming and blinked at it. Then I followed the beefy hand up an equally beefy arm to a surprisingly beefy face. The voice coming out of it was not beefy, however, and also didn't seem to be in time with the motion of its beefy lips. I leaned back and poked my head around the beefy bulk. A familiar shock of blonde pixie hair wrapped up in an expensive-looking bandanna atop a moisturised face looked back at me in shock. Wait. That doesn't seem right. Hair doesn't have eyes. Locksarelookingsplitendsspying.

I think I might be going Heroic again.

No, this time I mean mad. And that seemed all too appropriate for this genre.

I blinked and my hallucinatory pixiehair-Victoria vanished from where she stood in the other room and reappeared directly in front of my face. Her face - that is, the fake hallucinatory face of the hair that was wearing her skin inside my head - seemed very concerned. I wondered vaguely why it was.

I wondered vaguely why I wasn't.

A sudden slap to the face brought reality back to me like, um, a slap to the face. I yelped and glared at Victoria, who was apparently real since these hallucinations hadn't been inventive enough to simulate pain properly before. And that, I knew, was how a proper slap to the face felt.

I crawled fully out from under the desk, then reached forward and hugged her. After a moment (and a grimace I could feel shudder through her entire body), she daintily hugged me back. "So," She paused. "What are you doing here?"

"Cowering, mostly." I answered, in a moment of uncharacteristic dryness. I pulled back from the hug, sagging onto the desk top. "And running, occasionally screaming."

She gave me an arch look. "Max. You know what I mean. Where's Chloe?"

I... I really don't know. "I..." I ran away from her. "I..." I left her. "I..." I left my wife! "I don't know." Why did I do that?

Victoria's eyes filled with tears. "Oh god, Max. I'm so sorry. Shit, I'm so sorry." She leaned in and hugged me again. It was nice.

I pushed her away. "She's not dead, Tori. I just don't know where she is. I got separated from my group. She's with her mom though. And David." I didn't mention Copse. What would be the point? It wasn't reassuring, telling her Chloe was with a name she wouldn't know. "We were trying to find the Church."

"The Church?" Another blonde walked in. This one in an odd, yet chic mix of leather and military camo-fatigues with a truly terrifying array of weaponry strapped to her in every conceivable spot you could strap something. I looked back to Victoria, noting a similar strap-latticework over her torso, but without Taylor's weaponry. Since when did she know how to use guns? She's a freaking Doctor, isn't that against the Hippocratic Oath or something? "Why the hell would you wanna go there?"

I grinned over at her. "Taylor!"

The woman leaned over and far more willingly gave me a hug. It was very nice. I looked up at her as she flashed me a wide smile. I mimicked her immediately. "It's so good to see you alive."

"We wouldn't be if it wasn't for Grayson and Ishi here." She waved to the aforementioned beefcake for Grayson and a smaller Asian man who'd wandered in afterward for Ishi. Smaller in comparison to the beefcake, I mean. They were both still military-massive.

The beefcake stuck up a beefy hand and grinned. "Hey. Call me Gray. Sorry to hear 'bout your old lady."

I groaned. "She's not dead, people! I just got separated drawing off all those guys you murdered outside."

"You?" The Asian man's slightly tinny, synthesised voice said, "You drew that many people off?"

I glared at him. That's just insulting. "I may not be as muscle-bound as you two, but I can shoot (ish) and I can run like a freaking deer."

"A what?"

I groaned. "A deer, it's an anim- It doesn't matter. I can run fast, that's all."

The beefcake eyed my shoulder wound. It was still bleeding slightly. "I can see that. You want a medpack for that?"

I didn't bother with the pretence. "YES!"

Now I'd been sat calmly for awhile, it was really beginning to hurt.

He grinned and stuck me with a needle.

I swore at him 'til I felt better.

"Oh man," I tapped at my wound, wincing ever so slightly as the healing flesh popped out the shards of bullet that'd embedded themselves in me. "That was gross. But I needed that." I looked up at the Beefcake and nodded. "Thanks."

He grinned. "No sweat, sweetcheeks. You can just take a bullet for me to make up for it."

I scowled at him, and he just laughed. Why is nobody ever intimidated when I glare at them? I decided I would ignore him and turned to Victoria. She was just looking at the both of us with amusement. No sympathy whatsoever. Mean. "So, can you help me get to the Church?"

"Why do you want to go there?" Both blondes look at me like I'm an idiot. "That place is full of those monsters."

No discrimination between the Unitologists and the creatures. Hm. Looks like I'm not the only one who's seen some shit from them.

"I, um..." I eyed the two meatheads, both of whom were looking interestedly at me thanks to the hesitation, and sighed. "We have a way off the station." Cue gasps of surprise. "But we need parts to fix it. We collected them, but the Unitologists stole it." I paused. "Wait! Did you find a big pile of boxes with the Unitologists outside?"

My hopes were dashed as she shook her head. "Nope. We just found a lot of assholes."

"Fuck."

A pause. An elegant eyebrow raised as Taylor burst out laughing. I blushed.

"I mean Wowzers."

"Oh my, that was..." Another barrage of chuckles and an array of giggles. "That was glorious. Like watching a six year old swear really fucking sincerely." Taylor wiped at her eye and I promptly ignored her continued mockery. I looked to Victoria, expecting some support, but she just kept that eyebrow right up there.

I scowled at them both and Got Back To Business. "Well, they took our parts and we were chasing them down until they started torturing some random people. I..." Shoot. "I couldn't just stand by and watch them."

"A bleeding heart type, huh?" The beefy guy asked. "That's alright, nobody's perfect. We'll get you on the path of lootin' and pillaging soon enough."

I blinked at him, then at Victoria. "Who are these two again?"

She shrugged. "No idea. We ran into them a little after this all started. But they're big, and well armed, so we kept them around despite their severe mental deficiencies."

Beefcake grinned. "Aww. I knew you'd come around, Vic. That was so much nicer than all the stuff you said before about my questionable parentage and intimate familiarity with venereal disease."

Now it was my turn to raise the eyebrow, and I raised it hard. Victoria actually blushed. Only slightly, but it was there. Could also have been the exertion of debate and insult, but I chose to believe it was my hard-hitting facial expression that made her hair turn that colour. I blinked and blonde became pink and pink became blonde. I meant her face. I think the bandanna was throwing me off. Made it real hard to tell the difference, separating them out like that. Like a fussy child with their vegetables. Colours flowed and blended and morphed into hideous shapes and shades from beyond reality. Beyond what I could see, but somehow understood anyway. Beyond my mind, my thoughts, my-

"Gray, I predict an imminent attack from the things they sent out, if we do not move quickly." Ishi remarked, somehow managing to sound both urgent and casual in the same sentence.

Gah. I shook my head, trying to clear the swirling colours. When everything went normal, I focused back on the conversation. The Asian man seemed very much the Straight Man to Beefcake's jackass. At least someone kept their mind on the job. Like me. The parts were important... But the colours were important too. They told me something. I didn't know what yet. Needed to get Chloe to help. Yes. Get Chloe. Help Chloe. Find Chloe.

Chloe...

"Then I predict an imminent getting the fuck out of here. Lets go, Ladies. Pack 'em or hack 'em." He reached down and picked up a massive gun about as big as a moderately-sized motorcycle and hefted it over his shoulder. The stomps of his boots came surprisingly quickly - that guy could move.

Victoria helped me up. "We can take you to the Church, Max. If you let us hitch a ride with you on whatever your way off this shithole is."

Despite me almost entirely leaning my weight on her, Victoria's back was still ramrod straight, and she stuck out a hand. I knew immediately that she wanted to shake on the deal, and probably wouldn't agree to help until I did. Or until I pulled out the puppy dog eyes again. She'd melt before my quirky charm. And no, it's still not time to tell that story.

But she was my friend and I did not want her to be dead. I carefully pushed the rising horror of what'd probably happened to their newborn away and focused on how much I didn't want anything like that to happen to them. I shook on it.

She beamed. "Right then,"

Together, we walked back into the first room, and I froze. Something was crawling down my spine. I turned my head, ever so slightly, and sighed in relief. Okay, so I'm just imagining things again. Flash of teeth and mocking grin. Pink and blonde and blonde and pink. Something stroked along the back of my neck again. There was still nothing actually there, so...

Oh no.

I peered around us into the gloom. "Those monsters they sent off..." I hissed to Victoria, low and full of warning. "They're close by."

"Shit." Victoria cursed. She brought up the barrel of her gun and pointed it around the room. Interesting instinct from a News Editor. "Are you sure? There's none of the shrieking."

"Some of them don't. Some of them skitter and squeal and some are silent and some are scary and insidious and-"

Something skittered in the gloom, barely a flash between two of the bigger cat statues. No squeal, though. Huh. "There. It's over there."

Victoria pointed her gun in the general direction of the shadow. The barrel wavered ever so slightly, but her jaw clenched with determination. "Stay quiet. Be prepared to run."

I nodded, stayed quiet, and prepared to run.

The seconds stretched out painfully. The anticipation built. More blood, more gore, more carnage. More Death. Those things would come and they'd make us whole. But we'd fight. I could hear my heartbeat thumping in my ears. Da-dumph. Da dumph. Da Dumph. Da-

Victoria fired.

Something yowled and screeched, then launched itself out of the blackness as the bullets missed their mark. It was lucky they did. The mysterious entity was just a cat. A tiny, furry cat that looked half starved, the poor thing. I couldn't have suppressed the squee welling up inside me even if I'd wanted to. I kneeled next to it, scooting patiently forward and waiting for it to come to me. When it did, I squeed again. "Aww, Victoria! It's a kitty! Come on, little guy. Wowzers, you're a clever little thing, aren't you? Surviving this nightmare where the people failed."

I turned to look up at her. "Do you think the monsters don't go after animals or something?"

She opened her mouth to answer me, then blinked and her eyes widened in shock. "Max-"

I barely looked back in time to see familiar tentacles sprout from the back of the cat and come at me. "Shi-" One of the tentacles wrapped around my throat, the other tried to grab my arm and pull me close. The cat's mouth opened - and how had I not noticed it wasn't meowing? - and tentacles emerged from there, too. Tipped with little purple flowering structures, like the bastard mutant offspring of oversized cilia and purple barley.

I shrieked, and the monsters in the walls shrieked in answer.

Double shit.

I reached for something, anything, to hit the cat with. Anything to get it away from me. But there was nothing. Victoria was aiming her gun at me, but the two of us were wriggling too close together for her to get a clear shot. For a moment, I thought this was it. Finally, really it. Then, there was something. Something so very appropriate. I took it, and I smashed it over the cat's face. The porcelain shattered and the pieces cut into the thing's apparently weakened skin there.

Its answering scream was very, very pleasant.

The tentacle around my throat loosened enough for me to pull back, and I immediately kicked the thing in the face as soon as I was able. Another scream of pain, and it reared, leaving enough space for Victoria to finally shoot the thing. And of course, it immediately flopped down onto me.

I did not squeal though. I was proud of that. Also worried. Am I getting too used to this? Jeez, how much therapy am I gonna need after all this is over? I don't even have a job anymore, though at least our accounts are intersystem. Paid extra to get that lil' feature.

I yanked the tentacles off of me, wincing at the slight cuts the sharp material left across my skin, and kicked the cat-thing again. "Damnit. That..." I let out a deep breath. "That hurt."

Victoria dropped to her knees beside me, probably scraping her knees to hell, and checked me over. I had actually forgotten she was one of our resident first-aiders, back at the station. She gave a quick, satisfied nod when finding out the cuts were all the damaged I'd gotten. "The skin is bruised on your neck, but the arm seems fine. You might have some issue swallowing."

She pulled me to my feet again - as roughly as she did before, I might add, and so much for bedside manner - and patted me down. Including on the cuts, which sent little flashes of pain through my eyes. Or were those my shins? Nope, eyes. Definitely eyes. They ache when I walk, so...

Speaking of walking, Victoria near-bodily picked me up when she took my arm this time. So, I'm not really sure it counts, but my eyes ached nevertheless. I mean shins.

She dragged me outside just in time to see Beefcake (I have genuinely forgotten his actual name) helping Taylor rip some panelling off a nearby wall-thing. She reached in to the resultant gap and pulled out a small package. I could feel Victoria melt slightly beside me.

Wait. It couldn't be... could it? They're not that insane.

I stepped away from Victoria and walked slowly, dreadfully over to the two of them. Beefcake appeared to be cooing over the bundle. I leant in and saw a small face poking out of a pile of blankets. Two big, baby eyes blinked owlishly up at me before it broke out into a wide grin.

They brought their child out here? Oh wowzers, they're actually crazier than I am! Still, good news. Their kid is alive! Oh my dog. Finally, some good, happy news came out of this hellscape shitfest of a day.

I actually might have cheered at them, and the little ball of cute grinned up at me. I could barely remember how old it was, but apparently it'd reached the social smiling stage. Little thing just kept smiling. Aww.

Taylor seemed to appreciate my cheer, letting me pull her in for a totes cool and hip high-five, just like the kids do. Victoria just rolled her eyes at me. I grinned at her anyway. She never appreciated my street rep. "I'm so glad its okay."

"Us too." Taylor answered, doing that peculiar coochy-coo finger waggle at the kid that all parents seemed to do. Where did that come from? Was it helpful? Did kids even like it? "It's hard, keeping it safe in this... this... situation." The word seemed to fall very far flat of really describing the day's events, but still. "But its worth it."

My grin softened into a smile. "Yeah."

The two of us stood quietly for a moment, before joining the others to leave. The kid went to a weird strap-lattice on the front of Victoria. I hadn't thought myself particularly persuasive back there, but when they all made for the corridor I knew would take us in the direction of the Church, I gave a slow, prideful smile.