Attack the Geek by Michael R. Underwood Page A

than an off-brand Street Fighter , but the pizza place Ree’s dad had taken her when she was seven only ever had Alley Assault , and so she had a warm spot in her heart for the long-dead fighting franchise.
    Ree opened fire, but Grey Dragon raised his hands and blocked, the energy dissipating against his muscled arms.
    Balls . “It’s going to be like that, is it?” Ree asked, taking a fighting stance. Dragon punched forward with one fist, shouting “Fireball!” A shimmering ball of silver-white energy leapt out at her, and she jumped over it, landing with a punch in Grey Dragon’s direction, which he also blocked.
    Ree fell into a crouch, and tried to sweep the leg in her best homage to the No More Kings song. But Grey Dragon shouted “Ascending Punch!” leaping into his uppercut and jumping over her kick.
    But her years as an arcade rat had taught her the weakness of the Ascending Punch: if it missed, you were a chump the whole way down. Ree stood and reached out to grab Grey Dragon’s gi , then slammed him to the ground with all her weight, which wasn’t much.
    But the throw got him out of her way, which is all she needed. She gamed the Alley Assault system, curb-stomping Grey Dragon in the head while he was on the ground, hoping it’d put him out. Not bothering to stop and see if it had, she booked it to the bar, power sliding under the legs of an ogre.
    “Hi, guys. Did you miss me?” She leaned to the side as the ogre lashed out with the tetsubo again, biting into Grognard’s sturdy-as-hell tables.
    “Are these warded too?” she asked, pointing at the tables.
    “Reinforced against everything under the magical sun. Especially stains,” Grognard said.
    “So why aren’t these on the door?” Ree asked as she popped out from the table and fired her phaser at the ogre. It lurched back with the blow, giving Eastwood the chance to pour on fire from his blaster as well.
    “Same wards. These just stay fresher.” Grognard unscrewed a leg of the table and pulled out a plastic tube the size of Ree’s forearm. It had a stash of cards, a few bandages, and a tiny bottle. Grognard popped the bottle cap off and downed the drink.
    Then with a bellow, Grognard jumped over the table and delivered a thundering punch to the creature’s midsection. It crumpled up, so the brewmaster laid the creature out with a right cross.
    Ree looked to the other geeks behind the tables. “What was that?”
    “That was my real Critical Hit ale,” Grognard said. “The magic version takes twenty times as long to brew.”
    The ogre popped into ichor, causing a temporary lull in the bar section. But the elevated floor was still a madhouse. Several scenes played out, creatures and artifacts fighting among themselves. But at any moment, something else could decide to go for a new target.
    Ree used the breather to pull out her phone for a quick power-up.
    “Cover me?” she asked Drake.
    “But of course,” he said, keeping watch while he checked his ammunition stores.
    Ree tapped her way through her playlist as fast as possible, replaying the scene from Spider-Man so she could change the game.
    As she homed in on the scene, she heard the others chattering around her.
    Chandra asked, “Does anyone know what’s causing this ridiculousness?”
    “Frak no,” Eastwood said. “But I stopped wondering about pudu like this a long time ago.”
    “I’ve found that this city is very nearly as odd and prone to bizarre occurrences as the Deepness of Faerie,” Drake said.
    “You can say that again,” Eastwood said. “But don’t.”
    Drake chuckled. “That idiom I am familiar with, at least.”
    “There’s hope for you yet, kid,” Eastwood said.
    “You’re all idiots!” Wickham said, from behind the bar, her voice starting to slur.
    Ree tried to shut out their banter and focus on the scene through the roaring, clanging, chattering, but it just wasn’t happening.
    She took a long breath, and restarted the clip. This time, she