E.N.D.A.Y.S. Read Online Free Page B

through.
    'Fuck, Hayes, I don't know enough about what they dosed him with... can you make him throw up?'
    Hayes looked at the President, pulling his head lower by his tie and shoved two fingers down the esteemed leader's throat. He hit a solid mass, and couldn't get a gag reflex to respond.
    “Ain't working.” he said.
    'You need something longer. Look around, there's got to be something...'
    Hayes looked, but the only other instruments nearby were the jagged remains of a champagne flute, which was a little too stabby. And flagpoles,  which were wider than the President's mouth, let alone his throat. He looked down to his hip.
    “I've got a really bad idea...” he said.
    'Hurry up,' said Kali. 'Shay had five minutes because she had nanos fighting back. This guy won't have anywhere near as much time!'
    Hayes reached to his left hip, and pulled a gun from the pocket dimension holster. The weapon was matte black, textured with micropores that made for a snug and comfortable fit in the hand. It was all curves, no hard edges or corners, even the body curved when looked at head-on. Ergonomic, for the executive shooter, who had a penchant for wearing oversized black brass knuckles that could punch holes in people from afar. The barrel was eight inches long and five tall, but most of that height was the clip, which looped around under the muzzle, nestling up to the trigger guard. It left just enough space for a hand to fit, then went all the way back under the grip. Each clip held eighty rounds, a mag of twenty hollow point, fifteen explosive tips, and six ten-round mags of tasershot. None of those were helpful right now. Hayes wrenched the clip from the gun and dropped in back in the pocket, pointing the barrel at the President.
    “Ooooo!” the leader shrieked, sealing his lips shut.
    “This is for your own good, idiot...” Hayes said, once again tugging on the man's tie and forcing the barrel down his throat, chipping a tooth with the undercarriage of the weapon whilst shoving it down his gullet.
    “Stop!” said a secret service agent who had made his way past McCall on to the stage, holding his weapon in shaking hands.
    In a swift movement, Hayes had taken the gun from him, a shot firing in the process, embedding itself impotently in the wall. The crowd screamed in horror, and Hayes jammed the gun back and forth into the Presidential opening, forcing him to fully deepthroat it. Spittle and snot, tears and phlegm dripping onto his hand, down the weapon's matte black finish, absorbing into the micropores in the handle. Finally, Hayes broke through the barrier. The President gasped and proceeded to vomit, copiously and violently.
    Hayes pulled the weapon from the President's throat and dropped it back into the pocket dimension.
    “Someone else can clean that shit up...” Hayes said. “I'm done for the day.”
    The doors to the room burst open as a military unit assembled in formation, weapons aimed at Hayes and McCall.
    “Kali...! An exit would be nice!” he shouted.
    'Yeah...' said Kali. 'On it.'
    She reached to the gesture unit and grabbed hold of the agents' signals, her other hand wildly activating a quick trans-dimensional scan of a potential arrival point. Reaching down, she spun the quantum sphere and as soon as its surface became translucent, slammed her palm down.
    Hayes waved goodbye with a wry smile as he, McCall and the remains of Shay were enveloped in light.
     
    When the light dissipated, the three of them were back at their point of arrival, Shay's body continuing to leak formerly-vital fluids, which soaked into the cracks between the paving stones.
    “Well that was a clusterfuck...” said McCall.
    “All things considered, it could have been worse....” said Hayes, McCall's fist helping knock the last syllable out of his mouth.
    “Shay is fucking dead, you stupid fuck!”
    'We've got more problems than that...' said Kali, scanning feeds from in-world television networks. 'That entire fuck up was