Page 111 of Tapeworld Induction

Isaak wasn’t fast enough and they grabbed him. As they gained control over him, the Gunkatana fell to the floor.

“Uh-oh.”

The shapes’ arms felt barely solid, but their punches hurt like hell.

They wrestled him to an empty bed and dragged him onto it. He struggled and resisted, but to no avail.

“You might want to pick me up, Isaak.”

“I would if I could!”

“Try using your legs.”

He stared at the shapes, who stared back at him like they had understood his sword perfectly. They moved to restrain his legs before he had a chance to use them.

“Any more brilliant ideas, Gunky?” But just as he said it, he realised the shapes had loosened their grip on his arms in their rush to get his lower body. He wrestled free of them, raining down punches, and rolled away.

He was within touching distance of the Gunkatana.

The two shapes raced after him, grey vapour leaking from their eyes.

The biggest jumped, fists like a battering ram.

Isaak raised the Gunkatana and the shape impaled itself on the blade, disappearing in an explosion of black and white particles, like a dead channel.

The last shape stared at him, like it was analysing his every move. But he didn’t have to move. He pulled the trigger on the Gunkatana and the bullet flew at the shape, disintegrating it.

“Good job.”

Isaak grinned.

39

Black Hole

Dylan

“I’m not leaving without Talia,” Dylan said into her comms.

“I’m on my way,” Sacha said. She heard the shuffling of his feet, the shutting of a door and shortly afterwards the crackling of a lift coming to life. Sacha was leaving the Airbnb.

Isaak didn’t answer, and it made her worry. She looked around, then looked at her phone, hoping he might have sent a message instead.

The heavy-set woman was upon her. “ChainMail?” Her jaw was square cut, a perfectly symmetrical head on a stone-hewn body.

Dylan shifted on her feet, rubbing her boots together, stopping when she realised the fidget. She steeled herself for what was next. “Who wants to know?” Her voice was strained, palms sweaty.

The woman pushed the gold-blue badge attached to her tank top at Dylan’s face. “I’m security for the Night of Entertainment, Miss. Now answer the question. Please.”

“Does ‘security’ have a name? I don’t see one on that badge.” Dylan tutted, crossing her arms. Playing it confident.

“It’s Jewel, if you must know,” the woman grumbled. “Now answer the damn question.”

Around them, the crowd started dispersing. Some people wondered aloud what had happened to the volunteer, if he was okay backstage, but most didn’t seem to care, resuming whatever banal conversations they were having before Astrid had wheeled out the Sleeper.

“Well, Jewel, do piss off.” Dylan’s fists were balled at her side.

Jewel stared at her, face going red, the muscles of her arms noticeably tensing before Dylan’s eyes. She leant in closer and landed a palm on the wall with a thud, right next to Dylan’s head.