Death's Head: Day of the Damned
Chapter One
The lizard’s mistake is to move. The moment it swaps granite for red dirt and the temptation of food, it’s dead. Because my blade hisses through the air to open its spine from skull to tail.
It’s a small lizard.
All the big ones are eaten.
Picking it up with metal fingers, I hold it over the fire until its flesh crisps and the skin peels. The man I offer to share with doesn’t want to. So I bite off its head, chewing happily.
“Sven,” Anton says. “That’s disgusting.”
It’s not disgusting at all. It’s hot and salty from the grass and the saline bugs filling its stomach. Believe me, I’ve tasted worse.
“He only does it to annoy you,” says a voice.
My sidearm has been sulking since we landed yesterday. It wants battle. It wants slaughter. It wants glory and another chip upgrade. The SIG’s got a wolf hunt instead. Pulling the gun from my holster, I toggle it into silence.
“Can I look?” Anton asks.
He takes the SIG-37 carefully. The piece has that effect on people. Full-AI sidearm ...
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