Throwing rocks, dragging pillar

I stumbled with the first two steps, because of sprains and the injured parts that would soon sprout bruises. There were pillars all around us, stabbing up from what had used to be Teacher's propaganda units. The area still had piles of debris, all bulldozered into neat sections so the floor would be clean. It hadn't seen any use except as an extensive conference room for the thinkers.

I focused on keeping the pillar between myself and Mama Mathers while I got my bearings. Syringe- I still had it, capped and stuck between my breastplate and my chest

***

I flew straight up, mindful of the ceiling, and mindful of the fact that my senses couldn't be trusted.

Sorry, Mukade. I think.

As my forcefield came back, I had forcefield fingernails drag into the pillar I was flying beside. Multiple hands. Below me, the centipedes were moving in a double-helix pattern up the pillar, chasing.

Change shape, I thought. Reshaping my forcefield. Think of the physio. Of moving that monstrous, wretched body, trying to learn how it moved. Reaching out a limb… reaching… straining…

I palmed what my forcefield had grabbed off the pillar.

With enhanced strength, two arms helped me hurl myself around and away from the pillar. A third arm, as long as I could make it, drawing on memory, hurled the handful of concrete bits.

Mukade, already with several holes in his side and back for the centipedes to come out of, got a few more holes in his body. He sat down heavily, head turning slightly, then flopped back, more like a child's doll than a person. Gone.

- Last 20.5