Extensis Vitae - By Gregory Mattix Page 0,29

him. Reznik stuck the charge against his chest, but his attacker seemed unfazed, other than a grunt of annoyance. Again he was pounded against the wall, the back of his skull cracking against the stone.

“I see you’ve met Brute already,” came a familiar voice from nearby. The voice was guttural, with the rasp of a lifetime smoker. The man known as Haze stepped out of the dispersing smoke. “That was pretty slick, using our mine against us,” he said, looking unamused. Haze was tall and lean with a mohawk that was dyed the blood red. He wore a leather vest and pants, and his arms were covered with sleeve tattoos. Pale blue eyes were set in his cruel face.

The huge man known as Brute had paused when Haze had come forward. He still held Reznik off the ground in one hand as easily as he might hold a beer bottle.

Reznik took advantage of the pause in the action. He hurled the baton at Haze, and with his left hand, grasped Brute’s forearm. He jammed his right hand up into Brute’s elbow, popping the joint out with a crack, causing Brute to grunt in pain. At the same time, Reznik coiled his legs behind him and pushed hard off the wall. His uniform tore in Brute’s hand and he was free, tumbling in a somersault across the floor. The big man staggered backward, looking surprised as he was left holding only a scrap of clothing. Reznik saw a long knife that one of the attackers had dropped, and he snatched it up as he rose to his feet.

The outlaw leader held the baton in his hand as he watched Reznik. “Nice move,” he said as he began circling around. Reznik saw Brute moving to flank him, machete held high. His left arm hung useless at his side.

Haze darted in surprisingly fast and feinted with the baton. Reznik dodged the swing and slashed with the knife, but Haze easily evaded.

“These things are fuckin’ worthless,” the outlaw rasped, tossing the baton aside. At the same time, his left hand whipped around from behind his back.

Reznik’s HUD tracked the incoming objects. He was able to identify them as shurikens in the split-second he had before they struck him. He deflected one with the knife and ducked as another sailed overhead. The third shuriken hit him in the right forearm. His dermal plating reacted and deflected it, which clinked against the wall.

Brute attacked, trying to blindside him. His machete slashed at Reznik with enough force to cut him in half, but Reznik dropped into a crouch and swept his leg around, catching Brute behind the knees. The big man stumbled forward and dropped to one knee as Reznik darted behind him. Reznik stabbed out once, twice, into Brute’s kidney area. Blood spurted as he pulled the knife free and stepped back. Brute grunted again, but started climbing back to his feet.

Reznik was forced to defend himself as Haze attacked with a knife in each hand. His HUD was able to track each attack, and he slashed and parried with his own blade. Faster and faster their blades met, steel ringing and sparks flying. Their hands and knives became a blur, so fast was the deadly exchange.

Haze forced him back, knives twisting and slashing inhumanly fast, his dual blades an advantage over Reznik’s single one. He’s as fast as I am, Reznik thought, having to work to intercept and turn aside each blow. Then he felt the blade cut into his fingers where he held the knife. If it hadn’t been for his dermal plating, his fingers would have been severed and he would have been disarmed.

Another slash cut across his midsection, and Haze cursed at him as he saw the lack of damage he was inflicting. “Got some fancy tech, do ya?” he snarled.

Reznik hurled the knife at the outlaw and followed with a lunge. Haze instinctively went to deflect the thrown blade. Reznik grappled with the outlaw and grasped him by both wrists. He sharply twisted Haze’s arms down and inward, causing him to lose his grip and drop the daggers to the ground. He has the speed to match me, but not the strength, he noted. He could see the track marks along the inside of Haze’s forearms. Must be better living through chemistry.

Haze cursed and spat in Reznik’s face as he fruitlessly tried to break his iron grasp. He lowered his shoulder and tried to drive into Reznik, attempting to throw him