Ten, fifteen seconds passed, Bitch holding me, averting her eyes from the corpses of her dogs, jaw set, not speaking or moving.
Poor Bitch.
A teleporter appeared beside Laserdream, a distance away. He looked at us, startled, glanced at his armband.
Heh, yeah, neither Taylor nor Bitch have functional armbands, so they don’t show up on the map.
“You okay?” he called out.
“No,” I tried to shout back, but my voice was weak. Bitch spoke for me, “She needs help.”
Skitter down, CB-10. It’s time to get out of here.
“Bring her here, I’ll take her back.”
Bitch carried me, dragging me by my collar to where Laserdream lay. I grunted and groaned in pain, felt those hot pokers through my upper back and middle, but she wasn’t the type for sympathy or gentleness.
Hehe.
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