Free Attack the Geek by Michael R. Underwood Page B

the creature’s chest, Ree wrenched with her ring-enhanced strength and ripped the nose ring off.
    Consequently, this sent her flying straight into the wall.
    Ree did her best to go limp, but she hit the concrete with the force of a thirty-foot fall. Pain cascaded across her body, rippling back and forth from a half-dozen spots.
    For some long black moment, all she felt was pain. She heard shuffling, screaming, yelling, and the clash of blades, but mostly, she sputtered in bone-cracking agony.
    A shadow fell over her, but this one came without the imminent sense of doom. Or maybe that was the shock settling in.
    “Ree?” asked a voice. Ree focused on breathing, but her ribs felt like they’d collapsed into a jagged pile of lung-shredding shrapnel.
    She opened her eyes, and saw a brownish blur, but not a fuzzy one. She felt a gloved hand touch her face softly, and then she blacked out.
     
----
     
    Ree woke up feeling three-quarters dead. She tried to move, and her whole body was numb and cold.
    She blinked her eyes open and saw the flat gray ceiling of Grognard’s, only identifiable because of that odd red-brown stain the shape of a classic Base Star.
    “Did anyone get the name of that wall?” Ree asked, the world wobbling as she tried to sit up.
    “It would be best to keep resting, Ree,” Drake said from her left.
    Ree settled back against the floor? Table? And talked with her eyes closed.
    “Is Grognard all right?”
    “The drink kept the blow from being fatal. But we had to use extensive magical healing on both of you. Eastwood gave a detailed explication on metaphysical endurance limits and physio-spiritual strain. It was quite fascinating.”
    “What’s that mean when it’s in English?” Ree asked.
    “Your body has been greatly taxed by the repeated magical healing. He said you should expect substantial fatigue, low core temperatures, and disorientation.”
    “Three for three,” Ree said, bringing her hands up to massage her temple. Where she expected to find her glasses, she felt something else, larger, that covered her eyes. Goggles, maybe?
    “Where are my glasses?” Ree asked.
    “We think they’re still in the tunnel. When we pulled you back inside, they were gone. I adjusted these goggles to your prescription,” Drake offered.
    “Should I ask how you did that?”
    “If you like. The goggles were designed with medical as well as tactical applications. It was a simple modification.”
    “Did we get the Minotaur at least?” she asked, hoping the run had been worth it.
    “The beast has been dispatched. But from the sounds, there are more creatures remaining.” Drake sighed. “I would be impressed by Lady Lucretia’s resourcefulness were it not currently leveled at us as artillery.”
    Ree tried to roll over onto her side. Her whole body was on pins, like a limb that fell asleep and then stung when you started it going again. “She’s a regular bad luck ninja. Did Eastwood say when I’d be back on my feet?”
    “You should be able to move shortly. Fighting may be another matter.”
    “Unless our visitors decide to bugger off, we don’t have much of a choice.”
    “There’s always a choice, Ree,” Drake said, his voice kind. “It just so happens that we appear to be bereft of favorable options at this juncture.”
    Again, Ree wished that Drake and Priya had not met at that Steampunk salon, that they had not hit it off, and that somehow Priya was not one of her best friends. Then she could get with the smooching already. Honest, smart men with strong jaws and genuine smiles weren’t in great supply anywhere, especially ones who could shoot, fight, and cobble together devices that thumbed their nose at the laws of physics.
    Stow the pining, Reyes, she told herself. She gritted her teeth and sat up to take a look around the room.
    Grognard was laid out on the floor ten feet away, his chain-mail coat rent open across the chest, dried blood crusted onto his shirt.
    Chandra and Talon sat