88.
I'd got to the 5th floor before I ran into more Brick's thugs, and this time they were waiting and ready. They'd hidden in dark alcoves and waited until I'd climbed the steps to the 6th floor before leaping. Two bats hit me simultaneously, one across the shoulder, the other across my lower back. I snarled in pain and stumbled into the steps, turning around just in time to see a third one come flying down. I raised my forearm guard, accepted the blow, completely ignored the now familiar jarring pain in my shoulder, and lashed out with my boot, kicking one of them in the stomach.
I leapt off the step, pulled out a Bang Rock, and threw it into the wall behind the men. The bang was loud enough to distract them for a second, and then I was amongst them. Standing in the middle, I threw two right hands, one after the other, zapping one of the goons in the stomach and then the side, making him stumble and fall to the floor. Another bat hit me across the back of the head, but it was only a glancing blow. As I stumbled, I whirled with my fist, throwing a spinning back fist and catching him across the face, his nose crunching under the brass knuckles, and the voltage fried his brain. He fell unconscious almost immediately, his body folding over as he crumpled to the floor.
The third charged, spittle flying out of his mouth, bat raised wildly over his head. He brought it straight down, and I simply sidestepped, punched him in the gut, and kneed him in the face. Blood squirted from his nose across the grimy tiled floor. I kicked him a couple of times for good measure before charging up the steps to the next floor.
I faced similarly poor resistance on the next floor, just a couple of skinny, underfed thugs who looked like they smoked what they sold and weren't really up for a fight. Two of them dropped their weapons almost immediately and ran, while the other two seemed more hopped-up and wired, their eyes twitching and red. Whatever drugs they were on lent them not only bravery but wild, frenetic strength, and even the Zap Knucks weren't getting straight through that. It took probably five or six heavy blows before one went down. Then the other one charged recklessly, and I spun and kicked his feet out from underneath him, sending him tumbling down the stairs. The drugged up goon screamed and then face planted into the wall at the bottom of the steps. I looked down at him and almost cracked a smile.
That was when the gunfire started. I didn't see where it came from; I just instinctively threw myself down to the floor. There was an explosion of glass behind me as the window shattered. I crawled along the floor and then ran up the steps as more bullets rang out. Whoever was shooting was a complete lunatic. They just kept firing until the gun emptied.
I'd made it to the 9th floor, my heart racing. I watched over my shoulders but the gunman wasn’t pursuing. My anger and my fury had taken me this far but those wells of power wouldn’t last forever and I was struggling to catch my breath. My back was beginning to stiffen after those blows from the bats and my neck ached. I paused on the stairs, breathing deeply, and looked at the steps leading up to the 10th floor. They were barricaded with furniture and bits of crumbled masonry.
I looked up the steps and then down the hall. The lights flickered, and I saw three men. Then they flickered again, and I saw another three, and then they flickered a third time, and now there were a dozen goons standing in the hallway. They were all armed with bats, blades, and I even saw the flimmer of an axe. All of their faces were covered with scarves, masks, and hoods. They shifted nervously, as if waiting for someone to make the first move. I stared down the hall at them, my eyes hot and dark. Rage pummeled through my system as fear turned into wild fury at the sight of my enemy.
"Let me guess," I shouted down the hall. "If I wanna get to Brick, I gotta get through you lot?"
A couple of them looked at each other, and a few more at the front nodded their heads.
"Yeah, that's right, and I'd love to see you try… cunt!” someone shouted from within the mass.
I grinned under my mask. A feral hunger for violence filled my soul. I unsheathed Grandad's bat, and reached into my pocket. We stood staring at each other. The goons shifted with anticipation. Weapons clanged in the silence. The light flickered on and off. I squeezed the handle of my Grandad's bat. My pulse raced.
“Fuckin’ get him!” Someone screamed.
And then chaos erupted in the tiny hallway.
I charged at them, roaring in defiance. They were taken aback for a second, and then a couple of them, the ones more eager for violence, met my charge, snarling with their weapons raised. I dumped three Chalk Bombs straight into their faces. The entire hall exploded with white powder, and I was on them like a wrecking machine swinging Grandad's bat with wild abandon. The Rune went off again and again, sending men flying into doors and through walls, swatting them aside as I carved my way through.
But that was the problem with one-man charges: there was only so much momentum and so many bodies you could plow through before you found yourself right in the middle of the enemy. And that's where I was now. The hallway was too cramped and filled with bodies. We became a tangle of limbs and weapons. I couldn't even swing Grandad's bat anymore. There were so many of them. I felt hands grabbing me, punching me, weapons slamming down on the top of my head, shoulders, back, and thighs. They were coming from every angle. I reared back with Grandad’s bat and felt it yanked out of my hands.
Without hesitation, the Knucks flared to life. With my head down and my jaw clenched, I swung wildly, the Knucks lit them up. Goons shrieked all around me as they fell over each other, stepping on the ones that had already gone down. Finally, I broke through, and tumbled out of the pack. I staggered and turned it into a roll, jumping back to my feet and turning to face them. I could feel blood pouring from a dozen wounds and there was a sharp pain in my side. I raised my Knucks in front of me, channeling so much power through them they audibly crackled. Suddenly, the men didn't look as game as before.
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Then we went at each other again. The hallway was too cramped for their numbers to work too much in their favour. But every goon I put down was replaced by another, and I was having to fight them at least three at a time. I dodged the wild swing of a skinny half naked man with pierced nipples. I made a point of punching in the piercings with my Zap Knucks. He howled and fell back, his chest smoking, and a thick, meaty lad with no neck or eyebrows replaced him. He had a machete in his hand, but he might as well have been wielding a greatsword for the effect it could have in the tight confines of the hallway. I kicked him backwards, then lashed out left and right at the two men on either side of him. One dodged, but the other took a face full of Zap Knucks and slumped downwards.
The big lug was hurled by those behind him back into the fray and he came at me machete first, stabbing me in the gut. The blade skidded off the carapace armour, almost chopping my bicep. He had lunged with such force that the blade flew off and buried halfway up its length into the wall. The idiot actually turned his back on me and tried to pull it out. I repaid him for his stupidity by lighting him up with the Knucks. His massive body convulsed, froth dripping from his mouth, until he finally gave up and slumped face first into the wall.
The battle in the hallway raged on. Weapons hit me from different angles, things stabbed and poked at me. I felt sweat dripping down my body, or maybe it was blood; it was hard to tell the difference. But I was getting tired. Keeping this much energy channeling through the Zap Knucks and fighting this many people at the same time was almost impossible. But the goons were beginning to falter. Their numbers had dwindled from maybe a dozen down to six or seven. The walls were splattered in blood and the lights continued to flicker maddeningly as we fought on.
Finally, one of them had the bright idea to stop charging at me and instead threw himself at my legs, clipping my knee from underneath me and sending me tumbling down. The goons bundled on top of me, using the sheer mass of numbers and weight to bear me down to the floor, while they kicked and punched and stamped on me. I curled up, protecting my head and my face with my arms, letting the carapace protect my torso. One of the goons saw an opening, swung a wild football punt into my ribs, and met the unforgiving carapace. I heard the bones in his foot click and break. He screamed and fell down on top of me. I grabbed hold of him, using him as a human shield while simultaneously zapping him. He screamed and twitched while his own friends kept pummeling him.
"Stop! Stop!" he shrieked over the melee, but they were too incensed with bloodlust to listen.
If it meant they had to put down one of their own to keep me down, they would make the sacrifice. But my meat shield provided me with enough reprieve to reach into my pocket. I grabbed a Bang Rock and threw it straight up. I didn't know what I hit, but I hit something, and there was an explosion and a whoomph of energy. The rain of blows cleared enough for me to roll out from underneath my meat shield and fight my way back to my feet.
I zapped, punched, kicked, and headbutted, and was kicked, headbutted, and punched in return. A head slammed into my nose, and I felt blood filling my mouth, my eyes watering. A dagger flashed at me too quickly for me to dodge. I turned my torso and took it across the carapace. The blade had a weird upwards trajectory and kept going. It lost momentum but still slashed me across my left pec and up my shoulder. I cursed as pain lit up the entire left side of my torso and blood splattered across the face of the snarling men.
I grabbed the blade with my Magnet Rune, turning it back on its owner. For a wild second, the impulse to drive it straight into his throat flashed across my mind, and then another bat or a piece of wood cracked me across the top of my head and cut through that murderous impulse. I stumbled, yanked the blade free from his hand, threw it to the floor, and punched him in the ear with the Zap Knucks. I wheeled around and saw a man standing there with a broken 2x4 in his hands, staring wide eyed at me. He dropped the wood as if apologetic, but that didn't save him from getting his teeth knocked out.
I stumbled backwards, breathing heavily, blood dripping from my hands, mouth, and nose. The laceration on my forehead opened again, and was bleeding freely into one of my eyes. I panted, sucking wind hard, staring at the remaining three men. Nine of them were either laid out on the floor completely unconscious or holding their injuries and moaning piteously. The three that were still standing were in similar condition to me. Every one of them was bloody and battered. I could tell the fight had gone out of them; they didn't even want to come near me. But I wasn’t done yet.
I leapt over a fallen man, stepped on the face of another, and launched myself at the three goons. It only took a few seconds to take them down. I tumbled into one, bearing him down to the ground and laying into him with the Zap Knucks. One of his friends grabbed me from behind and hurled me into the wall before throwing a punch at my gut, his fist breaking on the carapace armour. He screamed, and I jammed my brass knucks into his mouth and shocked him until he fell still.
The final man tried to blindside me, bringing a heavy pole across his body, swinging it horizontally at my head. I just had time to duck underneath it but still caught a glancing blow across the top corner of my skull. That was enough to jar my brain. I stumbled, fell over a slumped figure, and landed in a pile of bodies.
The last man standing whooped in delight and leapt in the air, bringing his pole down. I threw myself aside, and he hit one of his own friends straight across the ribs. The man howled piteously, but the goon didn't care. He picked the pole up again and swung at me. There were so many bodies laid around the tight passage, that I was struggling to get to my feet or find any stable footing. He hit me across the shoulder blades as I pulled myself up. I stumbled into the wall, smacking my face painfully against it, and then ducked on instinct, as the pole smashed into the wall where my head had just been.
I grabbed it with the Magnet Rune, but the man was strong, stronger than the others had been, or maybe just more desperate, and he kept hold of it. We tussled in the hallway, yanking and pulling the pole backwards and forwards.
"Fuck you, you fucking motherfucker!" he spat at me, his eyes wild and wide.
"No, fuck you!" I snarled back at him, whipping a Bang Rock out of my pocket and throwing it straight into his face.
The Rune exploded and sent him flying backwards into the wall. He hit it hard enough to leave a dent in the plaster, then rolled to the floor unconscious.
"In fact, fuck the fucking lot of you!" I roared, turning around, my fists raised, but all I saw was a hallway of crumpled, defeated men, barely conscious, groaning, and whining.
The hallway had fallen silent. The only sound I could hear was my own laboured breathing and the steady thud of blood in my ears. I bared my fists and my teeth at them, willing another one to stand up and come against me, but no one answered my challenge. I dropped my fists and stepped over them, maybe deliberately stepping on a few, and limped down the corridor. I stooped to pick up Grandad’s bat then made my way to the next set of stairs, blood and broken bodies trailing behind me.
I’m coming for you Brick and I’ll run through a thousand of your goons if I have to!

