Jack watched as someone drew a gun and pointed it at Crawler, then reconsidered.

Yeeah, that’s just gonna get you killed faster, pal.

He turned it toward Bonesaw, and found himself face to face with Hack Job.  He was cut down a moment later.

At least he tried?

Hack Job exploded in a puff of white dust, already having left to dispatch more gunmen that might harm Jack or his maker.

That’s a pretty good way to put him to use.

Another figure appeared next to Jack and Cherish.  Jack assumed it was Hack Job until he turned his head.

…hm? Who else can teleport around here?

Burnscar?

Other than her, I can’t really think of any (well, there’s Trickster, but he’s different), so I suppose the alternative is PRT reinforcements from out of town, like in Extermination. Burnscar seems like a much more likely option.

“Oh hoh,” Jack assessed the man.  “What happened here?”

Hm, apparently not.

Mannequin stood, headless, streaked in paint and dust that marred his white body with dark colors.  His right arm ended at the elbow, the remainder missing.

Oh! Hi there. I guess I was wrong to assume the figure appeared via teleportation because of Jack’s assumption that it was Hack Job.

See, Jack? That’s what happens when you assume: You make an ass out of you and me. :p

Crawler threw himself into the point where the crowd was thickest.  Bodies flew as he moved on his two rearmost legs and swept the other four claws and two tentacles through the ranks of the Merchants.

Got a lot of limbs to keep track of.

When everyone within his broad reach was dead or suffocating from the paralytic venom, he turned toward the wrecked aircraft and began advancing with a more measured pace.

So the venom’s paralytic, too. That’s… kind of ironic, honestly, considering that injecting substances and being stuck in one position for a while is kind of what they came her for.

Each of the hundred eyes along the length of his body blinked to clear away the blood and dust that had spattered him in his all-too-brief spree.

Oh. Oh jeez, so that’s what the orbs were.

…I kinda love it.

It does make sense as a defensive measure, too – more eyes in weird positions means more angles he can see. It’s going to be hard to attack from a direction he can’t see you coming from.

“We’ll deal with your punishment at a later date.  Bonesaw is working on something.”

…oh boy.

Cherish’s eyes widened.  “I knew she was… I read her emotions towards me… I knew she was thinking about something.  But hearing you say it out loud.  Oh god.”

Giddiness, perhaps?

But yeah, that’s not something you want to hear.

“Rest assured, Cherie Vasil, you dropped out of reach of God a long, long time ago.” Jack smiled at her.

Heh.

She turned away, looking over the scene, as if it could distract her from her thoughts and fears.

I mean, if she wants to, it’s worth noting that besides Siberian, Cherish is the member with the best shot at fleeing. If anyone else were to flee, the team would get Cherish to track them, but they can’t exactly do that if Cherish herself is the one on the run. But then again, Siberian isn’t so bad at the hunt either.

Bereft of a pilot and working internal mechanisms, the aircraft crashed heavily in the midst of the crowd.  The Merchants who had gathered in the street for Skidmark’s festival of poison scattered, abandoning their fallen friends, trying to find an escape route or hiding place.  The screams of panic were twice the volume of any cheering they’d done earlier.

I think it’s safe to say that after this, the Merchants aren’t going to be much of a thing anymore, unless one of the higher-ups survives and restabilizes things. Which isn’t going to be easy.

Siberian hopped up to the highest point of the wrecked aircraft, the twisted remains of a propeller that should not have borne her weight.  Her hair blew in the hot air that rose from the heap of burning metal.

Can she decide not to be affected by gravity at all?

She glanced around to see where she might do the most damage, spat out a gobbet of meat and then leaped off to one side, out of sight.  The propeller didn’t even move.

Hmm.

Maybe the propeller is affected by the same thing that protected the other Slaughterhouse members on their ride – an ability to spread her power to things and people she’s touching. In this case, making the propeller just as resistant to forces as she is until after she’s jumped off it.

“Are you going to partake?” Jack asked Cherish.

She doesn’t seem to be in the mood for it.

“Why are you still talking like I’m a member of this team?  I tried to manipulate all of you, and I failed.”

Ah, she doesn’t get it yet. Jack doesn’t give a shit. Hell, might even like it. That kind of chaotic behavior is right up his alley.

A couple of the others (Siberian, for instance) seem to be giving her a hard time, but to what extent that is because of the betrayal is unclear.

Siberian reached up and set Bonesaw down, and then was gone, one footstep carrying her into the midst of the crowd.  She didn’t care if she hit anyone.  Anyone unfortunate enough to be in her way was pulverized, their limbs broken, chests shattered and necks snapped by the impact.

We’ve barely gotten into the chapter and the killcounts are already skyrocketing.

Even those in the general area were caught by the flying bodies and hurt just as grievously.

Ouch.

Bonesaw laughed, and it was a sound without reservations, not shaped by social constraint or culture or self-censorship.  It was the laugh of a child, free and without a care.  One of her mechanical spiders leaped onto her back, and wound several of its limbs around her chest.

Oh look, a cute little murderous backpack for this sweet and murderous

and innocent

child!

…did I say murderous? I, uh, um, I meant… m… ma… musical! Sure, that’s it.

Two limbs extended to connect to her wrists, so the mechanical arms mirrored the dimensions and length of her own.  The ends fanned out into an array of scalpels, needles, saws, and other instruments so one tool sat between each of her splayed fingers.

Looks like a handy device!

The smallest gestures of her hands forced instantaneous rearrangements of the tools, so another was ready for her to grasp and use.  Two more spiders lunged forward and pulled one of Siberian’s screaming wounded away from the rest of the crowd, dragging it inch by inch toward the advancing Bonesaw.

Time for some on-site surgery?

Jack spoke, with no small amount of irony.  “Looks like Skidmark’s hosting a party.  I think we deserve a night on the town, after waiting as long as we did to reveal ourselves.  Be sure to thank our hosts.

I think you might want to revise your verb tense there, in that first sentence.

I’m sure our invitation was lost in the mail.”

Hehe.

Smiles spread across more than one face.

Crawler was the first one off of the roof, throwing himself into the night air to land in the dead center of the crowd.  The others followed quickly after, Shatterbird and Burnscar launching themselves to the far corners of the massed crowd, conjuring up storms of glass shards and flame to block their victim’s retreat.

I still don’t really sympathize much with the Merchants, but at least this wasn’t something they signed up for.

Bonesaw’s creations poured over the edges of the rooftop to herd the remainder of the crowd and keep them contained to one area.

…how many does she have now? 

Or is this just referring to the spiderbots and such, perhaps?

It was just four of them left on the rooftop.  Siberian, Bonesaw, Jack and Cherish.

The same group that went to warn Alec and Rachel about the Shattering.

Siberian reached out and gripped Cherish by the shirt collar.  More graciously, she extended a hand toward Jack.  He gripped it tight.

Gotta go fast? Gotta go faster faster fasterfaster Siberian X?