Chapter 8 - Dungeon: Beneath the apartment

Pip...Pop...Pip...Pop...Pip...Pop...Pip The sensor speaker pipped and popped as it sent out called back readings that matched the map loaded into it.

The luminous green sights traced in the red half light of the maintenance passage. Eric felt like he was back in the service, as he followed the old man into the space under the apartment building. The Old Chief walked ahead with his own gun banking back and forth. Pips be damned, you swept and checked, no matter what.

"Clear." Eric would call out when he has 'cut the pie' at a right angle intersection, the old man mirroring his motions in the other direction.

"Clear." He graveled at Eric. "How's it feel?" He asks with a look toward the shotgun, as he progressed down the hall he'd cleared.

Pip...Pop...Pip...Pop...Pip...Pop...Pip

"Weighty." Eric answers, keeping his eyes down the other direction of the hall as he backed up, following the Chief. "Avery Arms?" He rolled his fingers on the barrel grip and, after five paces, turned to face front. "Where we headed?"

"Water purity. That little slime of yours is nice and cute, but she had to have come from somewhere."

"Should I have loaded more salt shells?" Eric asks, a little apprehensive, "Wait. Interior, never mind." 

"Yup." The old man slaps his thigh and Eric sees a device that looks like a fire extinguisher hanging from his hip. "Gonna have to slow melt whatever's down here."

"Confirmed." Eric replies and watches for slow, reflective, surfaces moving along the walls. 

Slime hunt. 

Pip...Pop...Pip...Pop...Pip...Pop...Pip

Slimes were the result of engineering to create Construct forms able to get into tight and radioactive spaces to conduct repairs, or to clean out 'grime and sludge' as it was so often referred to. The Result had been mixed. On the one hand, they had gotten a whole slew of Construct varieties that could dissolve and neutralize nearly any kind of man made waste. On the other, they had added to the list of man made monsters, as the Slimes proved, late into their mass production, and ability to combine, mix, and reproduce into unsanctioned variants.

Oops.

Their steps were quiet, both of them stepping with a professional calm and gait; letting them clear the distance to each junction quickly and quietly. 

Pip...Pop...Pip...PING...Pip...Pop...Pip

Both men stopped at the Ping and pointed their respective fire arms down different halls.  The Chief held up the sensor down the hall they had been about to turn down. Eric stepping beside the Old man as he made each turn, ready to fire if anything leaped out at him from the shadows.

Pip...Pop...Pip...Pop...Pip...Pop...Pip

He nodded then turned it to face the hall to the left.

Pip...Pop...Pip...Pop...Pip...Pop...Pip

Eric braced himself as the Old man aimed the Scanner down the right junction.

Pip...Pop...Pip...PING...Pip...Pop...Pip..PING. Contact.

"Numbers?" Eric asked as he crouched low beside the Chief, but not so close as he'd interfere. The Old man thumbed several switches on the sensor and the Pips and pops changed their pace.

Pip-pip...Po-PING...Pip-pip...Po-PING The sensor pinged off distant contacts.

"Chief?" Eric asked again as the man stared at the screen. He leaned over his shoulder to get a look at the screen.

Pip-pip...Po-PING...Pip-pip...Po-PING The sensor pinged off six nearby contacts. The screen showed a small lower case 'r' in the center of each contact, signifying the contact as a roach. Oh. 

Roaches. What was there to say? Some people thought that roaches could survive disaster on land that sharks could at sea. Certainly they'd adapted to the modern world. Where slimes were made to clean up messes, roaches made the messes. Filthy and feeding on anything they could tear apart into their jaws, they were the wretched vermin on the underside of modern society.

At least there were only six.

"Right. Advancing." Eric spoke up as the Old man barked a short assent. Eric had seen the arrangement off the bugs and after the first four steps his shotgun was aimed down the maintenance passage, and right into the maw of a chittering bug the size of a large dog. 

KA-BLAM! Where there was bug, now there were chunks, splattered on the walls. 

Short screeches echoed and Eric turned to the next bug in line, one that was attached to a vent. It dropped down and started to roll.

KA-BLAM! Its thorax hit the ground, the rest dripped off the walls.  Two more started fluttering at him from the side. Eric side stepped them and lined up his shotgun.

KA-BLAM! Two bugs, one shell. He let go of the trigger and reached over to grab the handle of the knife. His eyes turning before his head as he saw the fifth bug, scrambling at him.

SNICK! With a smooth draw he drew, then brought knife down on the thing. SHINK! Then, he cut it in half, length wise, with a pull of the blade. 

SCREE-SNIKT! The battle-cry of the last leaping roach was cut short as it was cut down by Eric's spinning slash. He looked up to see the Chief, in the hallway, with his gun raised and ready to shoot if need be.

"Not bad." The Chief nodded. "Overly fancy though." the Old Man added and Eric shrugged and started to reload the shotgun.

Pip...Pop...Pip...Pop...Pip...Pop...Pip

Back to a clear scope, after piling up the bug bodies on a tarp, the pair started moving down the hall way until they were almost at the open door toward the water reclamation room.

Pip...Pop...Pip...Pop...Pip...Pop...Pip

"Anything?" Eric asked. The Old Man grunted as he played with the settings. Meanwhile, Eric gave the reclaiming machine. It was tall, cylindrical, and like a giant water boiler, hissed and hummed. The sensors across it showed signs of dipping into the yellow on several spots. Damn. He took a step onto the metal stairs on either side and progressed up the machine, to the first over several consoles designed to monitor and tune the machine. 

Pip-Pip...Pop-Pop...Pip-Pip...Pop-Pop...Pip-Pip...Pop-Pop...Pip-Pip

While the Old Man held up the sensor to try and find some sign of slime, Eric worked along the machine, tuning and adjusting, calibrating and realigning.  He'd reached the top of the machine, the Chief at his side while brought the last of the elements of the machine back into proper sync. The Old Man seemed confused, but not put off.

Pip-Pip...Pop-Pop...Pip-Pip...Pop-Pop...Pip-Pip...Pop-Pop...Pip-Pip

"If your little slime didn't come from down here... she's not our problem." The Old Man decreed.

"I'm sure Officer Woolrick will be happy to hear that." Eric shut the hatch on top of the machine and picked his shotgun off floor.

"Ha. Corny's a good girl; sides a hunt's good for the bones!

Pip-Pip...Pop-Pop...Pip-Pip...Pop-Pop...Pip-Pip...Pop-Pop...Pip-PING!

Both men were silent and looked at the sensor. It was pointed down, toward the doorway they'd come in by.

Pip-Pip...Pop-Pop...Pip-PING!

"Coming up, FAST!" Eric aimed his shotgun down the hall and the Old man set aside the sensor to pull out the Slime Sprayer. Eric descends two steps at a time down the stairs, while the old man stands on top of the reclaiming machine, gun and nozzle pointed down. 

GUR-SLUuuuuuRuuPAH! The sucking howl of the wretched slime monster was nothing like Drip's cooing 'wurps'. It was large, discolored a muddy brown with rusty reds. The bag they'd used to clean up the roaches was floating, open and empty. Not good. It was a Carbon Eater.

"Open fire!" The Chief roared and the gunfire echoed in the room. Bullets and slugs rip into slime and disrupt the surface tension of the creature. Slime do have a core, but it was practically invisible due to its near transparent nature. The slime churned and writhed in response to the attacks, and because Eric was closer, it went for him first.

He stepped back as he avoids the first pseudopod assault and fires point blank into the sludge-slime. The round rips open the thick outer layer of the slime.

GUR-Garararararaaaaaaaaal!

It was not happy, and it only got angrier as a hot white foam descended and rained on it's open 'wound'. The reaction was instant and the slime immediately tried to run. But it was on the stairs, and the parts the foam touched turned solid and weighed the slime down. Eric fired into its retreating sides and the foam reached deeper into it.

Soon it was still, hard, and -by means of a final spray of foam- dead.

"Not a bad milk run." The Chief nods as he leads Eric out, toward the surface. 