Which was not to say it couldn’t have seriously hurt Zank if there had been direct impact, but no use worrying over something that hadn’t happened.
Once he caught his breath, Zank asked, “Either of you find the photos out there?” Both Marl and Venny shook their heads. “Alright, let’s get back to it. I’m not sure if the commotion was heard outside or if one of these chuckleheads called in more backup, but regardless, we should beat feet.”
He hated the expression, but Coal agreed with the sentiment. He retrieved his gun from the floor, just in case—all the good it had done him during the last in case—and moved to check the drawer he had been opening before being interrupted. Zank resumed his book inspection.
Coal kneeled down and yanked open the bottom drawer and grinned. He grabbed the plain, unmarked envelope and looked inside to find six revealing photographs of an anteater who he could only assume was Garna Nomak.
“Got ’em,” he said, standing. He slipped the photos back into the envelope and tossed it over to Zank, who caught it deftly.
The rabbit flipped through the pictures, whispering as he counted them out loud. “This is all of ’em,” he said, returning them to the envelope. “Good job.”
“I’m well-trained in opening drawers,” said Coal. It was a joke, but also quite possibly the only real skill he brought to the table in this operation.
They exited into the main area. Over by the door Coal saw the fox guard face-down on the floor, but from this distance, he couldn’t tell what condition the guy was in.
Zank waved the envelope at the others. Venny grinned toothily while Marl remained mostly expressionless, but Coal thought he saw the slightest hint of a smile on the wolverine’s face.
“Let’s scoot,” said their leader.
That sounded great to Coal.
Like before, they all followed Zank. Envelope in hand, he skipped through the doorway back up the stairwell toward the roof. Coal followed directly behind him.
He said to the rabbit, “That got a lot messier than I expected.”
“Me too,” said Zank. “To tell the truth, I really did think these guns would just be a precaution. Didn’t think one of the guards would leave their post to drop a shit in the boss’s bathroom. Sorry to get you wrapped up in it.”
It had been more than he’d bargained for, but Coal couldn’t be picky at this juncture. “It’s fine,” he assured his friend. “I’m thankful you brought me on. Really. I need the tups.”
“You and me both, pal,” Zank laughed.
They reached the top of the staircase a few moments later, rushing into the night air’s warm embrace. Across the way, the yellow glow of the Starlite flickered in its neon tubes.
Zank hopped two or three bounds toward their plank of wood before a booming voice ordered him to halt.
All four of them stopped in their tracks. To their left were two menacing bobcats who were each strapped into HM-3s. Or, as the machines were more commonly referred to throughout the kingdom, robotic scorpions.
The bobcats lay prone, strapped onto the top of the HM-3s with a sheet of metal plating covering the majority of their backs. Their faces were still exposed to allow visibility, while their arms and hands were attached to the machine’s enormous pincers. One of the scorpions was a metallic black while the other had been painted red.
It was difficult to know for sure in the dark, but Coal squinted as he looked in the bobcats’ faces and could swear they were the two he’d seen watching them from the alley earlier.
Coal’s stomach dropped.
“Remain calm and do not attempt to move,” said the bobcat in the red HM-3. He was the one who ordered them to stop in the first place.
Zank craned his neck to look at his crew over his shoulder.
No, no, no, Coal pleaded internally.
“Dend’s got more boys, do he?” Zank scoffed.
Without warning, Venny fired on the bobcats. Their scorpions roared to life.
3
COAL’S INSTINCT WAS TO leap backward, putting as much distance as possible between himself and the two HM-3s. He knew from experience that you did not want to mess with one of those robotic exoskeletons. Better to get far away. Far, far, far away.
But the rest of the group was either unaware or uncaring. Venny continued firing on the bobcats, who easily shielded from her fire with their machines’ bulky claws. Bullets pinged off the metal, not even denting it, and scattered uselessly to the ground.
At the very least, the Dripping Fang had the sense to keep a fair amount of space between themselves and the scorpions. If they remained out of reach of the claws, they would be in good shape. Coal knew that wasn’t the only thing the HM-3s had in their arsenal, but it would be foolish to employ such tactics on top of a building.
“Zank!” he yelled to his friend. The rabbit fired off a few meaningless rounds before risking a glance toward him. “We need to go!”
But Marl had not heard Coal’s plea over the two rabbits’ gunfire. That, or he was uninterested in backing down from a fight.
Whatever the case, the wolverine charged toward the black HM-3, the one nearest him, and jumped forward onto its back. The bobcat inside was largely protected by the metal plate covering, but there were a few parts of his body left vulnerable.
Marl grasped the edge of the metal plating with one hand to keep himself on board, and with the other he dug the barrel of his gun into the bobcat’s shoulder.
The cat instantly knew what was about to transpire but had no time to react. Marl pulled the trigger and the man’s shoulder burst, splattering blood all over the HM-3 as well as Marl.
While screaming in agony, the bobcat still had enough sense to try dislodging his attacker. He reached with his unhurt arm to maneuver the scorpion’s claw around to grab Marl, but the wolverine dropped down off the machine and temporarily retreated back toward the rooftop door.
His plan had worked, though. With the bobcat’s shoulder ruined, he was in too much pain to operate the scorpion’s right arm.
If he could do the same to the other, all that left in their arsenal were the long-range attacks, which would be unwise. Coal had seen the damage these HM-3s could do, and he was not eager to see it again.
The red scorpion scuttled forward, aiming to take out Zank. If he got caught in its claws, not only would he be in a world of hurt, but there would be absolutely no way for any of them to free him.
Zank was clever enough to realize that, even if he’d never encountered these machines before. He waited until the scorpion had reached him, its claws only a foot or two away, before jumping into the air and landing on the left claw, propelling himself off of it and wrapping his arms and legs around the tail.
Its handler let out an irritable grunt, waving the tail back and forth to throw off the parasite, even if it meant he’d careen off the side of the building. Losing Zank would clearly be of no concern to the bobcats.
Venny was now shooting at the red scorpion while Zank flailed about on its tail. She seemed to be trying to shoot the bobcat in the head, but it was not going very well on account of the man shielding his face with the scorpion’s massive claws.
Coal had absolutely no idea what Zank’s next plan of action would be.
Marl, meanwhile, was attempting to circle around the injured black scorpion to take out that bobcat’s other arm. His plan was more achievable than Venny’s or Zank’s, but still nearly impossible. The scorpion’s mechanical legs were too fast for the wolverine; he would not be able to run around the machine quicker than it could turn with him, nor would he be able to jump high and far enough to land on the other side. Especially not with the bobcat’s guard up after the first assault.