53: The Inner Circle
He wanted to shout at her. He wanted to release all the bubbling frustration in her direction. He was shirtless, sweating, prepared to make sacrifices to help these people, and all she was doing was loitering around the shadows giving orders! She hadn’t even offered up her cloak to any of the shivering, fearful victims they’d managed to save! If it wasn’t for John clearing his throat for attention he might have said something.
“Seriously, they’re almost here,” said his friend, “Ten of them,”
Theseus checked his tranq-gun. Only five shots left. The bandolier, now slung across his bare chest, had a few more sonic stunners, but there was too much risk of catching his friends in the blast. Gas wasn’t an option either: the quantity was limited and they were in a large open chamber. Every other weapon would be fatal. He hit a code into his cell and the back of his spidermech opened up, revealing the heavy weapons inside. He could activate the robot’s turret mode, let a machine handle the situation…
The girls had reached the archway now. Phoenie, Andromeda and Kaori disappeared into the maze with the rescued sacrifices, while the others stood waiting for Theseus and John.
If you wish to save those remaining, kill them. Quickly.
Theseus had to double-take at the suggestion.
Do it now.
He tried to blink away confusion. Focus.
“Theseus, they’re here!”
A bundle of shaman, the sort Theseus had nailed back in the tower, swarmed in through one of the archways and headed straight for the sacrificial circle. Five shots wouldn’t cut it. Then a whimper of fear, a weak scream of terror from one of the remaining sacrifices, shook him into action. Lifting his gun and firing without thought he pulled the trigger four times. A moment later those still strung up were unconscious. If they were going to die, then he’d sure as hell make sure they didn’t do so in pain. The final shot caught one of the shaman off guard and he stumbled forward, two following close behind tripping over his unconscious body. Theseus tightened his muscles and did a quick mental calculation. Seven-on-one, with doubts the shaman would fight fair.
But they weren’t interested in apprehending their lost sacrifices or attacking those who had gatecrashed their ceremony. Instead they began to drag and throw the wounded and dying bodies of their comrades towards the circle. Some who still clung to consciousness clawed their way towards it, helped along by their underlings. Two were felled outside the circle by Ms Anderson’s sharp shooting, but when her shots ceased Theseus could only assume she’d run out of ammo.
Theseus Armstrong, use whatever method at your disposal to stop this.
“What the hell are you wanting me to do?” he shouted in reply.
Kill them.
“I-I ain’t killing no one!”
The wounded shaman and their priestly masters were grasping for one another, like dying soldiers in the field of battle clinging for one last human touch before the inevitable. Some were mumbling prayers to whatever hateful god they must have worshipped, while others appeared to realise the horror of what they’d done and broke down in tears.
They are going to die no matter your choice. Our only hope of stopping this now is if you kill them. I would recommend explosives.
