On its belly, a short tube of the net gun, glistening from the rain. It didn't bother turning on its spotlight, no need to give itself away too early.
It simply fired, fast and precise, like a snake.
A thin, almost invisible thread of webbing, silvery, woven with microscopic electrodes embedded in the fibers, whipped through the air with a faint whistle.
It unfurled in flight like a fisherman's net.
Gideon only had time to twist while running at the sound of the whistle.
His eyes widened for an instant.
The web wrapped around his torso, legs, arms like a sticky, invisible cage. The discharge hit instantly: blue light raced along the threads like lightning across the sky. Gideon convulsed with his whole body; a short, choked growl of pain tore from his throat.
"Raaargh!!"
He dropped to his knees, then collapsed onto his side straight into a puddle. Water sprayed in every direction. The current kept surging; his muscles locked in spasms, teeth chattered, arms and legs jerked uncontrollably like a marionette's.
"Gideon!" Flash barked, skidding to a halt.
His voice cracked like a whip.
He spun, lunged forward, snatched the nearest metal rod from a pile of junk, rusty but solid, arm-length and swung with full force at the drone.
Crack!
The blow landed on one of the propellers; the blades snapped with a crunch. The machine wobbled in the air but didn't fall it stabilized on the remaining motors.
Flash struck again, this time aiming for the center of the body where by his calculation the processor sat.
The drone flew backward, slammed into the wall with a loud thud, sparked with yellow flashes, and crashed into the water, hissing like a living thing as it died in the puddle.
But it was too late.
Gideon lay on his side, twitching in convulsions; the web still glowed with faint blue light like a neon net.
Smoke rose from his jacket. The smell of scorched fabric, ozone, and something metallic mingled with the rain.
His face twisted in a grimace of pain; sweat mixed with rainwater streamed down his cheeks.
Ethan reached him first, dropped to his knees beside him, ignoring the puddle soaking his pants.
His hands shook, but he grabbed Gideon by the shoulder.
"Gideon! Hey, hang on! What do I do?!" His voice cracked into a shout, but he forced himself to calm down.
"Damn it, all these problems are because of me…"
Bruno was already there. With his massive hands he tore at the webbing. The threads were tough as Kevlar, elastic, but he ripped them with sharp cracks, burning his fingers on residual current. Sparks danced across his palms, yet he didn't even flinch.
Flash dropped to the other side, pulled a short knife with a serrated blade from his boot, and began cutting the threads methodically, like a surgeon.
"Kill the current!" he shouted to Bruno.
"He should have a discharger on his belt!"
"Ethan, hold his head and don't let him drown in the puddle!"
Ethan nodded, lifted Gideon's head, and slid his own jacket underneath. Water ran down the wounded man's neck.
"Because of me everyone's in danger. I dragged them into this. Gideon is suffering because of my stupidity."
"I shouldn't have agreed to their deal…"
Ethan kept hammering those bad thoughts into his own head.
Bruno found the small black cylinder on Gideon's belt a button with a red light.
He pressed it hard with his thumb.
The blue glow died instantly. The web went limp, becoming just sticky thread without current.
Gideon exhaled hoarsely, with a wheeze, as if air were escaping from a punctured lung.
His face was paper-white, lips blue from shock, eyes rolled back for a moment before refocusing.
"Hurts…" he rasped, voice weak and broken.
"Like… they ran… the whole city's current… through me… Legs… can't feel them…"
Flash quickly examined the injuries: red burn stripes across chest and abdomen, in places the skin had split like overcooked crust, blood and serous fluid oozing, mixing with rainwater.
Second-degree burns, with blisters already beginning to swell.
"Network discharge 50 kiloamps in the pulse," Flash said calmly, though confidence edged his voice.
"Not lethal, but it'll knock him out for half an hour if we don't treat it. Heart okay? Check pulse, Ethan."
Ethan pressed fingers to Gideon's neck. The pulse was irregular, rapid like a cornered animal's.
"Fast… but it's there."
"Good. We need cover." Flash scanned the yard through the rain.
The warehouse opposite looked safe: door torn off its hinges, hanging by one, blackness inside.
"There! Bruno, grab him under the shoulders quick. Ethan, legs."
"Bullet ahead, check inside."
Bullet shot forward first, slipped through the doorway, growling. She came back wagging her tail all clear.
Bruno hooked Gideon under the shoulders, Ethan took the legs. The wounded man was heavy, but they lifted him as best they could, trying not to jostle.
Gideon hissed in pain.
"Leave… me…" he rasped again, trying to struggle free.
"Run… They're coming… for me… you won't make it… I'll hold them—"
"Shut up," Flash cut him off without looking up from the wounds.
He walked alongside, supporting Gideon's back.
"We don't leave anyone. Ever."
"You know our rule," Bruno said through clenched teeth.
They dragged the injured man inside. The smell of damp concrete hit their noses. The floor was littered with broken glass that crunched underfoot, scraps of cardboard, and dust.
In the corner a rusty barrel, several wooden crates covered in cobwebs. Walls cracked, plaster peeling. Somewhere in the ceiling a hole; rain dripped inside, forming a small puddle.