Scar awoke to partial darkness, moonlight filtering though the jungle canopy above. His head throbbed uncomfortably as he sat up and looked around cautiously.
The last thing he remembered was cursing at Mibōjin to kill the damn runner team, and the Manx’s irritating British accent saying, “Oh, do shut up”.
I’ll kill that stuck-up, poncy fucker for this.
Scar looked around more carefully, noticing the marks in the jungle turf that confirmed someone had dragged him out of the temple.
Probably that little pussy, Carver. I should ass-rape the little faggot for leaving me out here. Little shit didn’t even bring my gun.
A light rustling in the ferns drew his attention. The ganger sneered and turned to face the noise.
“Get your butt-fucked ass out of the bushes, Carver. We need to geek those losers so I can be back in the city getting my dick sucked by a real woman instead of a little piss-ant like you.”
When there was no response from the kid, Scar triggered a wireless signal, popping out the titanium spur in his right fore-arm.
“Get out here now, Carver, or I’ll use Mr. Happy this time.”
The ganger swiveled quickly as another sound came from behind him. The thermographics in his implants adjusted for the darkness, showing a large cat stalking out of the foliage. Scar’s eyes widened at the long tentacles protruding from the beast’s shoulders, but then he smiled ferally.
“Here, kitty, kitty”, he growled. “Come meet my little friend.”
The cat made a high-pitched screech and leapt at Scar. The ganger’s well placed thrust speared through empty air, as something massive hit him from a totally different angle, sharp claws sinking into his abdomen.
As Scar twisted away from the powerful jaws, the cat’s red eyes peered at him unmercifully.
Then a second pair of red eyes appeared.