“We got hit. The only camera that works is pointing up at the sky, so I don’t know how we ended up. Obviously the skin held, or we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
“How many others made it?”
The woman shrugged. “Technically two, but their skulls were cut open so bad I just crushed them with a pistol butt and saved them the trouble. It’s just you and me now for the duration. Name’s Belilo, by the way.”
“Hawker.”
She extended her right hand toward his and pretended to shake it in pantomime of a greeting. “Ready for some work?”
“What kind?”
“We’re in a closed-in space with eleven dead bodies, and they’re already starting to smell. The recycler won’t take a whole body, so we’ve got to cut ‘em up to feed them in. It ain’t easy with just a field knife, believe me. I could use some he
