Bulletstorm

The Hammer fired.

Nakamura wasn't here for points. She was here for General Kael, the man who'd sold her squad to the alien Hive. The man who’d laughed as she was spaced. Now, Kael was somewhere in this labyrinth of scrap and screaming, trying to activate the “God Hammer”—a spinal cannon that could crack planets. bulletstorm

A second mutant jumped from a catwalk. Nakamura flicked her wrist again, wrapping the Leash around its ankle, and slammed it into a third mutant. The two bodies crumpled. “Bowl-a-rama! +100!” The Hammer fired

She snapped the Leash toward the shield. It latched onto a single loose bolt. She yanked. The shield spiraled off its axis, clattering to the floor. Kael’s eye went wide. The man who’d laughed as she was spaced

The first wave came. Screamer mutants—pale, twitching things with too many teeth. They charged.

There was no scream. Just a flash of white light, a wet thwump , and a rain of ash.

The last thing Captain Echo Nakamura remembered was the cold suck of a decompression hatch. Now, her boots were welded to the steel floor of a derelict space hulk, and her right arm had been replaced by a throbbing, organic-looking cannon that smelled of ozone and burnt sugar.