Cyberpunk: Snapshot of a run (short fiction)

The security guard is too slow. My head slams into his nose with full force. I watch him going down.
Over by the tree of life sits the monkey man, high up on a branch. From time to time he throws stones into the crowd. Only that the stones are actually electric shock grenades.
The rapid fire pistol staples an arched line into the synthplast of the wall, hacking the solo’s arm in half. But he is so full of adrenaline boosters that he just grunts furiously.
As I quietly let the body of the guard slide to the ground, I notice movement behind me. With both hands, I grab the Ruger of the unconscious man. He’s still holding it in his hand. Point the barrel next to me backwards and pull the trigger. Bam. A body falls. Bam. The howling in my ears is unbearable. Bam. Bam. Bam. Bam. I feel the empty click of the pistol. Only then I turn around.
Good man, the Swede. However, it is strange that his icebreaker is so intelligent. Almost too intelligent. I focus on the scene in front of me again and hope the other two solos are good enough to protect me. The corporate ice looks like a shoulder-high Great Dane.
The monkey man is climbing out of the treetop with his head down. His face a white bloodless mask, his body 80 kilos lab-bred sinewy power. The veins in his arms look like finger-thick cables. When suddenly a company guard appears in front of him, holding a Taser, monkey man lifts his hands. His grin exposes filed canines. Then he leaps. He doesn’t bother to push the guard’s Taser to the side because he knows he’s much faster. Something snaps and the guard’s body falls to the side. The man’s head is looking backwards.
I see the solos engaging around me. The Great Dane stares at me. On its collar the name of the corp. I jack the Swede’s icebreaker all the way up, empty my memory and stretch out my hand to the program. Sparks are dancing on the palm of my hand. The Great Dane sniffs it. I see how one of the street samurai shoots a company guard into a bloody heap. Time to get out of here. The Great Dane is still staring at me. Then it wags its tail and dissolves into pixels that form a three-dimensional image of a computer disk from the 20th century. I take it. Finally.

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