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    Shadowrun: Another Rainy Night (A Shadowrun Novella): Shadowrun Novella
    Shadowrun: Another Rainy Night (A Shadowrun Novella): Shadowrun Novella
    Shadowrun: Another Rainy Night (A Shadowrun Novella): Shadowrun Novella
    Ebook48 pages41 minutes

    Shadowrun: Another Rainy Night (A Shadowrun Novella): Shadowrun Novella

    By Patrick Goodman

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    About this ebook

    BLOOD RUNS RED...

    Every day in the Sixth World people die in a thousand different ways. Every day blood is spilled. Everywhere rain falls, it washes away some of the red that stains the streets.

    Eliminating every killer in the Sixth World is as impossible as drying up every raindrop in a storm, but Thomas McAllister doesn't want to get rid of all of them—just one. He's been on this killer's trail for a while, and he knows he's getting closer. The only question is if he'll be able to handle getting as close as he's about to be, or if his blood will join the stream that regularly flows into the gutters of the sprawls.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherCatalyst Game Labs
    Release dateApr 10, 2013
    ISBN9781386488750
    Shadowrun: Another Rainy Night (A Shadowrun Novella): Shadowrun Novella

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      Book preview

      Shadowrun - Patrick Goodman

      Shadowrun: Another Rainy Night

      SHADOWRUN: ANOTHER RAINY NIGHT

      A SHADOWRUN SHORT STORY

      PATRICK GOODMAN

      Catalyst Game Labs

      CONTENTS

      Another Rainy Night

      Patrick Goodman

      Looking for More Shadowrun Fiction?

      Go Deeper Into the Sixth World!

      Shadowrun Fiction Ad

      ANOTHER RAINY NIGHT

      PATRICK GOODMAN

      27 OCTOBER 2073

      Thomas McAllister watched the city of Denver emerge below him like a bleak gray cancer as the chartered jet broke through the cloud cover on its approach. He’d never particularly liked Denver, and had someone not paid him a considerable retainer several weeks ago, he wouldn’t be going there now.

      The late October sky seemed dreary and foreboding from the comfort of his seat, and the pilot had informed the three passengers that it was a windy and rainy four degrees Celsius in the Treaty City that afternoon. He shivered slightly, glad he’d brought the heavy lined coat on the seat next to him.

      The two other passengers on the corporate Luxe V jet tried to engage him in small talk shortly after the plane had left Houston. Judging from their demeanor and the way they were dressed, they were mid-level corp executives who probably didn’t want to know the real reason Knight Errant was flying him to Denver, so he muttered some noncommittal pablum about being a university professor from Texas A&M&M (which was true) hired to present a special seminar to Ares senior management in the UCAS sector (which was not). Then he’d smiled a less-than-cheerful smile and let his gray eyes go slightly out of focus, looking at them as if he were deciding which one might taste better. They had quickly stopped trying to engage him in further conversation and had spent the remainder of the flight chatting quietly with one another, occasionally giving him a pointed glance which he was almost certainly not supposed to notice.

      Now the crowded, ugly city was drawing closer as the plane made its final approach to the small tower that housed the regional headquarters for Knight Errant’s Front Range Free Zone Division. The VTOL-capable jet set down on the building’s roof, and Thomas and his fellow passengers rose from their seats and collected their belongings. The two executives seemed more than willing to let Thomas off the plane first, so he pulled the black leather coat on over the dove-gray turtleneck he was wearing, gathered his small duffel bag, and descended the short flight of stairs to the roof.

      He was greeted by a heavy-set, dark-skinned elven woman about his age, with dark brown, close-cropped hair. Dr. McAllister? she asked as she approached. He nodded. I’m Alice Bujold, Regional Commander for KE in Denver; I’m glad you were able to come so quickly. She motioned to the door; Thomas followed her. It’s usually snowing by this time of the month; you got lucky.

      Yes, he replied, his voice a soft Texas drawl. Lucky. That’s just what I was going to say.

      Once inside, she bypassed the small customs station, led him to an elevator, and pressed the button for the ninth floor. This will be number nine for you, won’t it?

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