Cyberpunk: The Relentless

"Maine!"

In the Badlands, standing on the rear cargo bed of a Thorton Mackinaw "Beast," David fired a volley from his Ajax kinetic rifle while shouting toward the driver's seat.

"Arasaka's on our tail!"

"I know!" Maine barked from the front seat, his expression grim behind a pair of sunglasses. He slammed the accelerator to the floor. "Did Dorio and the others make it out? What's Lucy saying?!"

"Signal's crap out here in the Badlands—I'm about to lose connection with you!"

Lucy's voice crackled urgently through their comms. "Falco's got Rebecca and the rest clear on the other side. You two are the last ones left—get moving!"

"We're trying! But it's not that simple, Lucy!"

Maine grinned through gritted teeth, about to reply again—when Lucy's signal cut out completely. At the same moment, interference noise began blaring from the vehicle's GPS.

"Signal jamming? These Arasaka bastards have lost it—they're hounding us like mad dogs!"

Knowing backup was out of reach, Maine glanced at the rearview mirror—and spotted a streak of light closing in fast. His instincts screamed at him. He yanked the steering wheel hard.

The Mackinaw twisted at a sharp, almost unnatural angle, its tires briefly lifting off the ground before slamming back down. It veered violently to one side.

BOOM!

A rocket exploded right where they'd been heading moments ago.

"Maine, rockets!"

David had barely regained his footing from the jolt when he shouted the words that had been knocked out of him by the violent swerve.

"I saw it!"

Maine shouted back, but a wild grin had already spread across his face. "Getting chased down in the Badlands by rocket fire… this feels like a damn dream!"

"Does this count as a big-time gig now, Maine?!"

David clung to the vehicle, dust whipping around him. He'd volunteered to split from the team with Maine to draw Arasaka's attention.

"No way Oliver or the others have ever been hunted like this!"

"No telling!"

Maine glanced at the fuel gauge—it was dangerously low on CHOOH₂.

"If we make it out alive, I'll write us into legend. Bet even Karl will stand and toast to us!"

"We're not done yet—we still need to take down that bastard Faraday!"

David laughed, but his tone carried a sharp edge.

"That fucker's intel was completely off! There were no Sandevistan-enhanced targets in that convoy—it was a setup! Arasaka laid a trap and baited us in!"

"Man, you're still way too polite, David. Me? I'd say that fucker deserves to be dumped into a sewer and drowned in toxic waste."

Beneath his sunglasses, Maine's eyes narrowed coldly. "I used to think that guy was just greedy. Now I see he's not even competent as a fixer. Next time I'm in the city, I'm making him pay."

A merc and a fixer have a mutual relationship. A fixer can demand professionalism, sure—but only when they deliver solid, verified intel. If a job goes south because of bad info and the mercs die? That's on them. But if the mercs live to see another day...

...don't be surprised if they return to settle the score.

BOOM!

Another explosion rocked the terrain beside the Mackinaw. The tremor shook the vehicle again.

Maine's rage shifted from Faraday to Arasaka.

"We're almost in Pacifica. Are they seriously gonna keep firing rockets all the way into the city? We're empty-handed—we didn't even get near the cargo! What, they want the few thousand eddies we've got on us?!"

"Something's definitely off."

David, who'd been doing merc work for a while, sensed something strange too.

"They called in Militech the moment they spotted us, then sent an entire armed convoy. Sure, we're technically on Militech's payroll—but we're just hired hands. We barely knew what this job was even about. Why the hell are they chasing us like we killed their CEO?"

"Beats me. Feels like we robbed them ten times over or something."

Just as Maine was about to say more, an alert blared from the dashboard.

"No way! Fuel gauge said we were low—but not this fast!"

"Maine! The fuel tank's been hit—CHOOH₂ is leaking and catching fire!"

"Fire?!"

Shit.

CHOOH₂ was widely used across energy sectors, but it had one massive downside—once ignited, it spread fast.

Without hesitation, Maine kicked open the passenger door—something he'd picked up after that job with Karl and the crew—and leapt out while the truck was still moving.

"Jump, David! Jump! The car's gonna blow!"

David didn't hesitate. He even tossed his Ajax aside to make the leap easier. He followed Maine out into the dusty terrain.

Both men tumbled through the sandstorm, rolling with practiced form to absorb the impact. Meanwhile, the now driverless Mackinaw surged forward under inertia.

The leaking CHOOH₂ caught fire. Flames raced up the chassis. Just two seconds after they bailed, the vehicle became a blazing inferno.

Then came the explosion.

BOOM!

A fireball engulfed the truck, spreading its fiery wake across the desert.

"This is bad."

Maine stood up, watching the twisted frame of their vehicle burn in the distance. The Arasaka convoy was rapidly approaching.

His sunglasses—damaged during the fall—slipped from his face, revealing his sharp, determined eyes.

"If we actually make it out of this alive… Karl and the others better raise a damn glass—or three—in our name."

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