“The six-foot section fell through the overhead lighting in a shower of sparks and wiring with dead stickies and smoke trailing out of either end. J.B. whipped his scattergun around. He and Krysty had needed only a few more minutes and they would have been gone. They weren’t going to get it. A fresh stickie fell through the roof and flopped onto the piled bodies of its brothers and sisters. The stickie’s rubbery musculature hunched and popped as it relocated its limbs. J.B.’s blast smeared its s...kull across the corpse-littered floor. Another stickie was flailing its legs up in the wiring, the front half of its body still jammed in the torn duct. J.B. unrepentantly filled its rear contact point full of lead. The legs went limp and the Armorer leaped aside as the section fell. Arms flailed out of the other end, and J.B. pumped buckshot into the eight-foot section. “J.B.! Look out!” Krysty snapped up her blaster. A stickie crawled like a four-legged white spider in the wiring. Krysty put three rounds through its head and it hung, crucified from the conduit risers by its suckered hands and feet that continued to clamp on even in death.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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