He was too late.
She swung past his right shoulder and at the same time twisted her torso to slide the rifle down toward him. She held it in both hands, pulling the barrel horizontally over his face, and when it reached the throat area, she spun sideways, wrenching her body toward the floor, causing the two sides of the rifle to bend into a V-shaped wedge.
The Scorpion let out a gasp as that wedge crushed his throat; Rhea was already yanking herself upward once more, rotating the wedge as she did so, as the ends of the long rifle remained firmly in her grasp. When her feet landed on his shoulders, she promptly crossed the two loose ends of the rifle and dropped behind his back once more, keeping her grip firmly on the metal, so that the two loops tightened around his throat like a noose. She remained hanging there behind his back, applying constant pressure to the twisted rifle, further tightening it.
Like most cyborgs, The Scorpion needed to supply his brain with oxygen. By constricting his throat like that, she cut off the oxygen supply to his artificial lungs, which would eventually cause him to fall unconscious, and die.
That was the theory anyway.
The Scorpion’s fingers wrapped around the metal at his throat, and he yanked hard, trying to tear both loops of the twisted rifle free. At the same time, his tail came in, forcing her to swing left and right to dodge the blades while she hung on. The Scorpion was desperate and didn’t seem to care that the blades were cutting into his own backside each time he missed. He simply wanted to get her off his back as quickly as possible so that he could breathe again.
And then she heard a loud clang; at the same time, the leftmost portion of the rifle she clung to drooped lower. Glancing up, she saw that The Scorpion had crushed one of the loops next to his throat with his fingers.
She kept glancing back at that tail, but for now The Scorpion was concentrating on tearing away the rifle with those big hands. The Scorpion grabbed the rifle loop on either side of the big dent he’d formed, and pulled, breaking the metal away entirely. Her left arm dropped, still holding the rifle piece like a cudgel.
That tail came in again, and Rhea was forced to release the remaining rifle section she hung from. She dropped to the cavern floor and watched those metal blades reverberate from The Scorpion’s upper back with a satisfying clang.
The Scorpion tore away the remaining rifle piece and shucked it aside, shedding the noose. He spun around and batted her aside with a powerful arm. She went flying across the cavern, the rifle piece falling from her grasp. She landed in the shallows of the pool.
She scrambled to her feet, and did her best to get to shore, but then something hard rammed into her chest and she was thrown backward. When she recovered, she realized The Scorpion had tossed the other rifle piece at her. She turned toward shore once more, only to find those blades bearing down on her.
She took a deep breath and dove into the liquid; she swam sideways, her extremities scraping against the rocky bottom. Not much light from the still-burning flare reached here, and she struggled to see in the thick murk. She switched to LIDAR. Better.
And then something slammed into the small of her back, crushing her into the bottom. She struggled but couldn’t break free. She was thoroughly pinned in the pool.
She gazed toward the surface. She was in a relatively shallow area: to surface, she need only rise less than half a meter. She tried to push herself up once more, but the force pressing her down proved relentless.
So near, yet so far.
She managed to twist enough to look over her shoulders and saw the polygonal outline of The Scorpion’s leg on her HUD, courtesy of the LIDAR. It was planted firmly in the small of her back.
The urge to breathe was growing stronger by the moment. She was going to suffer the same fate she had planned for The Scorpion.
Please, let me go, she broadcast on a common band, knowing he’d hear.
He didn’t answer.
You don’t have to do this! she tried.
Dead silence.
Her LIDAR outlined the curled, broken piece of rifle that The Scorpion had thrown at her. It had sunk to the bottom nearby. She reached out, and her fingertips brushed it, pushing it further away.
Careful.
She tried again, stretching as far as she could go, and managed to slide a finger around the tube. She pulled it toward her, then scooped it up.
There was only a small chance this would work. But she had to try.
Her vision was growing dim.
This particular piece was all barrel, which made it perfect for her needs. But it was still looped, so she wrapped both hands around the metal and straightened it as well as she was able, maximizing its length.
Then she held the metal tube above her head, pressing her lips around one end. It wasn’t long enough to reach the surface.
She raised her head and upper body as far as she was able. There. She zoomed in on the LIDAR, and confirmed the far end had surfaced, if only by a few centimeters.
She had the presence of mind to blow first to clear the tube of liquid before trying to inhale. She blew a few times, but still met resistance. Her artificial lungs were powerful enough to compensate for the added width and length of the tube, so she should have been able to expel all the water by now. That she hadn’t meant there must be leaks.
Her vision grew darker as she searched the surface with her fingers. She was growing frantic but
