Gamers' Quest Read Free

lips. His tongue flicked out again, cleaning the blood away.
    ‘I takes that as a no.’ He smiled and shrugged. ‘Your loss.’
    He reached his left hand into his shabby coat.
    ‘Slowly,’ demanded Zyra, waggling her remaining razor leaf.
    ‘Oh, of course,’ said the Cracker, slowing down to an exaggerated extent. In the distance Zyra could hear the perimeter drone coming around again.
    ‘Comes on,’ she encouraged. ‘Not that slow.’
    ‘Is plenty of rich houses up here on the Hill,’ he continued, ignoring her attempt to hurry him. ‘Theys all has keys. Go gets your own. Go now, and I'll forgets this ever happened.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘I'll even gives you a tip. Fat Man's away. House is easy target.’
    Zyra moved her hand as if to throw the razor-leaf.
    The Cracker shrugged. ‘Don't says I didn't gives you a chance.’
    He carefully extracted his hand, holding up a plastic card. It was the size and shape of a standard credit card. Metallic blue with an embedded microchip, it had no markings save the Designers Paradise logo. It shone gently in the shadow of the wall, as if it had its own power source.
    ‘Praise be to the Designers,’ whispered the Cracker.
    Zyra breathed in sharply, all her attention focused on the card. This was what she was after. A key! The ability to gain entry to Designers Paradise and escape the World, at least for a little while. She held out her free hand and took a step forward, indistinct images and memories playing at the corners of her mind.
    As she did so, the Cracker clenched his right hand, the constriction of the muscles activating a device concealed in his right sleeve. A pellet shot from his coat sleeve, hitting Zyra between the eyes. The pellet burst apart in a spray of acid. She would have been blinded were it not for her balaclava.
    Zyra whipped it off before the acid had a chance to eat its way through, revealing her short red Mohawk and numerous piercings. She tossed the balaclava at the Cracker. It hit him in the face, spreading just enough acid to burn his cheek and cause him to yelp. Over his shoulder, Zyra could see the approaching perimeter drone. Knowing she had to move fast, she leapt at him, throwing him against the wall, which fizzled and tingled but felt solid enough. As the Cracker clutched his face with one hand, Zyra smashed his other hand, the one that held the key, against the wall. With a sickening crack, and an accompanying scream, the Cracker let go of the card.
    Zyra caught the card, let go of the Cracker and hurled herself down the path the Cracker had created in the razor-bush. As she ran, she heard the perimeter drone, but didn't stop to see if the Cracker made it out alive.

4: The Cracker
    The Cracker's eyes focused on the approaching perimeter drone and widened in terror. With hardly a second to spare, he jumped. His right shoe burst into flame as he tumbled through the limp section of razor-bush.
    He fell to the ground on the other side, smothering the flames in the grass. He scrambled to remove the smouldering shoe. As he threw it aside, he looked down at his hands. The middle finger of his left hand was bent back at an impossible angle and both hands were covered in small cuts from flailing about as he tumbled through the razor-bush. The limp area was quite narrow and in his eagerness to escape being roasted alive, he had not been careful enough.
    He took a moment to lick the wounds clean. He then clutched the bent finger with his right hand and yanked it back into place.
    Crack!
    He winced with the pain, but made no sound.
    His gaze then lifted to see the distant figure of Zyra disappearing down the immaculately manicured streets of the Hill. He brought a hand up to his face, to gently stroke his burnt cheek.
    ‘Oh Zyra, my pretty-pretty.’ He cracked the knuckles of his right hand, sharply, deliberately, one by one. ‘You has crossed the wrong thiever. This ain't over yets. Not bys a long shot.’
    Slowly, a truly ugly smile spread