Shadowrun: Crossroads (Novel)

October, 2060 I hate bugs. I always hated them, even as a kid. I think there's just something hardwired, deep in the human brain, that says bugs are wrong somehow. Just looking at them creeps me out. So, naturally, there I was inside the rusting corpse of a factory complex some thirty-five miles outside of the Federal District of Columbia facing down a guy in charge of some bugs bigger than me. Not a nice feeling, let me tell you. I flatted myself against a support girder along one of the upper walkways of the dimly lit complex and tried to still the sound of my own breathing so I could listen. I heard a distant humming sound echoing through the large open space above the maze of machinery quietly rusting away on the floor of the factory below. It was broken up by random clicks and tapping noises. I tried to ignore it and focused instead on closer sounds that might give away the presence of my quarry. I heard a faint rattling of the catwalk behind me and to the left and a muffled cry t