Chapter 56 “Rolling in heavy."

Eight months passed since John had welcomed the first group of evacuees. He’d flown the latest group out to Farmborough to start their new lives. Rosie sat in the pilot’s seat, he took up the gunner’s seat. Between her work and the needs of the evacuees, they hadn’t spent much time together lately. John planned on getting a hotel for a few days, as soon as he got done with another favour.

They touched down in the field near Beverly's. John gave them a minute to take in the sights while stretching his legs out of his armour.

“John?” A man’s voice called out.

“Yeah?” He answered, still getting used to people he couldn’t quite place that knew his name. This time however, he recognised the man right away. One of the first people he’d taken from the Vault, the Vault-Sec thug. He’d struggled with the idea at first, but it proved a lesson worth learning.

“Beverly told me you were coming in today.” He put out his hand and John shook it. “Have you got ten minutes?”

“Sure.” John masked his annoyance and followed. “Fen.” He called for the dog and it came running along.

He walked through the main road that made up most of Farmborough. Even on a quieter day, people still called out to him, smiling and waving. A young girl, sent by her grateful father, brought him a hot sandwich. Another woman gave him a bag of vegetables. Neither let him pay, which worked out well as he never seemed to have money for very long anymore.

The ten minute walk took twice that long. “This is it.” He pointed to a house on the edge of town. At first John thought it like the others. Whitewashed earthen walls in a square. Extra walls had been added, linking the house to ones either side.

“When I got out I started doing repair work. Before long I had more than I could handle, so I took on two more people from...up north. A month later another two and we’ve been busy ever since. We bought these three houses, added extra rooms. Sleeps twelve, me and at least one of the others will be here. Got enough food for months and plenty of work.”

“What are you saying?” John had to be sure he hadn’t misunderstood.

“You get them here, we’ll see them right.” He looked burdened by the thought of those left behind. A look John knew well.

“What was your name again?” John pushed past the minor embarrassment.

“Eric.” He didn’t seem to mind.

“Well Eric, I can have ten people here this time tomorrow.” John saw that didn’t come as easy news.

“We’re ready for them.” He looked lightened by the chance to help.

John headed back through town, finding Rosie waiting under the guard tower. “I took them to Beverly’s. Left your armour there too.”

“Crixus didn’t see it did he?” John knew his armour was far from inspection ready.

“He did.” Rosie grinned, like she’d shown him deliberately. “Said something about star jumps.”

“Shit.” John half looked forward to punishing exercise.

“Up here, on the right.” Beverly’s friend led them across the fields. A huge truck sat rusting, its trailer carrying half a dozen cars. “If you can get it shifted I can reroute the irrigation, seed two more plots.”

John didn’t know where to start. He looked to Rosie, already getting a closer look. She gave him a nod. “We’ll get it done.” He hopped into his armour.

“I’ll bring you lunch.” Beverly shouted cheerily as she left with her friend.

“And a cart please.” Rosie called back, something already in mind. “Hit that, hard.” She pointed at the rusted ramp on the trailer and stepped back. John stomped over, swinging his warhammer at the rusted hinge. A century of rust shattered. The strike reverberated through the trailer ramp, shaking it loose. A drawn out creak led to a loud crash as the ramp swung down.

“Get the bottom clear, I’ll see about the hydraulics.” Rosie threw a rubber ball for the dog and started poking around the truck cab. John got behind the first car, lifting the back wheels and shoving it down the ramp.

An hour later, John heard voices coming through the fields. Matt and Janey arrived, dumping a heavy bag. “Thanks for coming, you didn’t have to.’ Rosie knelt and unzipped the bag. She turned as John approached, brandishing a set of hydraulic cutting claws. “Been waiting to give these a go.”

“You find them in fire engines sometimes. The jaws of life, they used to call them.” Matt stayed clear as Rosie snipped the door off one of the cars. “Come in handy more than once.”

“Janey, can you help me with engines?” John asked, keen to have a precise laser to cut away the still volatile engines.

The four of them set about methodically breaking down the cars and truck. John lugged the engine blocks to a clearing, leaving them stacked and strapped for collection.

John made his way back, when he heard something on the wind. “Hey.” He shouted to stop the work. Rosie picked up on his worry. Tense silence broke with the sound of automatic fire.

They sprinted towards town. The sound of gunfire being exchanged growing louder. John came skidding to stop by Matt and Rosie. “Greenskins, at least four. And more than a dozen raiders.” Rosie pulled her hood over her face, slipping out of her clothes to reveal the Shadow suit beneath.

“Cyclone, find Crixus. Gear up, cover us from the rooftops. Tornado, get behind me, drop the raiders. Janey watch our six.” John put on his helmet, and gripped his warhammer. “I’ll handle the greenskins.”

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John stomped towards the main road. The guard tower had been torn down, the culprit pacing by it like a beast. The first time he’d seen the Abomination, the grotesque human caricatures terrified him. Now John felt incapable of such fear. His will forged into steel.

The mutant saw him. Its yellow eyes filled with rage above a rictus grin. It screamed as it charged, wild and flailing. John stood his ground. His feet planted, the spike on his hammer facing out.

The impact drove him back. The mutant's own force impaling itself. John shoved it with his shoulder, pulling the spike out. The mutant slumped, green tinged blood pumping from its chest. Carbine fire ripped its head open as it lay dying. Rosie appeared, geared up and ready. Janey behind her, a pistol in each hand. “Ready.” She gave him a nod.

“All callsigns, Ronin in the blind.” John tried the comm, broadcasting on every frequency. “Friendlies to the east. Rolling in heavy. Sit tight, help’s coming.”

He tore through the toppled guard tower, snapping metal like twigs. Bodies lay in the street. People going about their day, indiscriminately gunned down and brutalised. Bullets pinging across his chest gave him a target for his anger.

John powered forward. Rosie firing from his shadow. Janey spinning right round at the waist, landing clean headshots with binary precision. Shots rang out from between the houses. “The forge.” Rosie yelled.

“Go.” John called out. Rosie bolted down the narrow street, Fenris on her heels.

John stopped almost in the centre of town, no targets in sight. Ahead of them, a hulking figure emerged from an alley, laden with packs. It didn’t move like the others. Not shambling like a drunk or half crazed. It moved with purpose.

“Jones!” He boomed through the armour’s speakers. It turned to look at him. John looked into the beady, yellow eyes. He saw rage, restrained and harnessed. Jones turned away, tossing a tin can from his belt. The can burst into noxious blue grey smoke, covering Jones and his men as they fled. The lingering smoke did something else. John felt the heavy, rushed footsteps drawing in.

John backed up, trying not to get rushed from both sides. The mutants ran for the smoke, inhaling the acrid fumes. They emerged frenzied, bulbous muscles twitching, large teeth grinding.

The first one roared, barrelling towards him. John did not move. The mutant picked up speed, propelled by its tree trunk size legs. Still, he did not move. Not until he felt the heat on his back. John stepped aside as Janey fired. A blinding beam of red seared a fist sized hole clean through the putrid green torso.

The dull thud of dead weight drew the ire of the last mutant. This one didn’t charge or flail. Instead it began to circle him like a boxer, perhaps driven by memory of a life stolen. John separated his hammer into a mace and maul, one gripped in each hand.

A swollen fist struck his body, followed by another to his head. The armour rang like a bell around him, disorienting him further. John shook off the jarring blows in time to see a lunging haymaker coming. He took a half step back, striking at the arm with his mace. Green flesh ripped as John dragged the spikes of the mace along it. The brute recoiled, John closed the distance. A savage cross brought the maul into the clenched jaw, staggering the brute.

A mighty kick, teamed with an uppercut with the maul, laid the mutant flat in the dirt. John stood over the wheezing, bleeding creature. “Where’s Jones?!” As soon as he said it, John knew it was pointless. Nothing existed in the eyes beyond the base drive to kill. He brought his mechanised foot down on the mutant’s head.

A sharp whistle drew his attention. He turned and saw Matt and Crixus, leading a ragtag group of off duty Brotherhood and civilians. “QRF Inbound. We’ll sweep, hold here.” Crixus called over.

"I want someone on top cover.” John pointed to the high roof of the Sandcastle hotel, the highest vantage point around.

"On it.” Rosie came from behind him.

“The forge?” John asked, taking off his helmet.

“It’s bad, fuckers took them by surprise.” Rosie forced a smile. “The Lady’s fine, nearly hit me with her hammer.” She jogged away, followed by the dog.

The minutes waiting for backup felt like hours. Soon enough though, Vertibirds flew overhead. Armoured knights dropped either end of town. More birds zoomed past, Recon scouts perched and ready to drop. Another bird swooped in low, hovering briefly atop the Sandcastle. Moments later Sara walked out into the sun, projecting calm and strength.

“Two teams, one either end. I want a headcount.” She looked round for someone. “Jen, pick a team to follow, take names.” Sara walked over to him. “You good?”

“Yeah.” He smiled, pleased to see her.

“What the fuck happened?” Sara’s façade slipped for an instant.

“Jones.” John hated what hearing that did to her. “Turned the greenskins loose while his raiders hit the Iron Square.”

“Lady Avalon?” Sara braced for more bad news.

“Is fine.” The Lady looked far from fine. Limping, covered in blood, not all of it hers. Hammer still gripped white knuckle tight. “They took long guns, swords, plate steel. As much ammo as they could carry. My students are taking stock. Those I managed to keep alive anyway.”

“My Lady.” John offered a powered arm for her to steady herself.

A familiar clanking set John’s nerves on edge. Janey appeared, clutching a pair of tin cans. “Paladin Maxwell. These are improvised chemical dispersal devices. Analysis indicates high levels of neurostimulants.”

“The smoke drew them in, got them spun up.” John translated.

“Scribe!” Sara barked. “Bag those.”

“Sir?” The field scribe looked scared stiff.

“Give me the bags.” Sara held the bags and Janey dropped the cans in. “Get on the next bird out.” The scribe hurried away.

Sara commandeered the Castle. Triage on the ground floor, command station on the roof. John sat for a debrief, being of little help. Then he went down and fixed himself a stiff drink. He found Rosie waiting for him in his seat. “The count in yet?”

“No.” He threw back his drink, slumping onto a couch with the dog. “How’d he do?” John stroked the dog, calming them both.

“Good.” Rosie tossed a piece of dried meat to the dog. They’d both been training him, under Grimm’s instruction. “You did good too.”

“Yeah.” John didn’t feel like being complimented.

An hour later, Sara came down from the roof. She walked behind the well stocked bar and poured two shots. She threw one back. “Thirty seven dead, double that wounded.” She threw back the other. “Over a hundred missing.”

“I’m sure more will turn up.” John tried to sound hopeful.

“There could be a hundred more greenskins out there by now.” Sara poured two more shots, this time putting them on the bar. “However bad it is, it’d be a lot worse if you hadn’t been here.”

“I had help.” John handed Rosie a shot and tossed his back.

“You still close with the woman on the radio?” Sara asked, John nodded. “Give her my comms. They see green, we’ll roll in heavy.” Sara scrawled a note and gave it to him. “Now get out of here. And take your pet robot with you before someone takes a shot at her.”

John and Rosie started to leave, finding Janey the subject of Lady Avalon’s curiosity. She sat in a booth, drawing with an iv line in her hand. “Making friends?” Rosie half teased.

“The Lady had detailed questions about my design.” Janey sounded almost impressed. “Please be sure to rest and hydrate.”

They slipped out the back and headed out of town. “John!” A voice called out. He didn’t recognise the man at first, then remembered him from the afternoon that felt like days ago. “I wanted to make sure we’re still on for tomorrow?”

“If you’re sure?” John didn’t want to push.

“People here need help. We can help them.” Eric wouldn’t be dissuaded. John had to admire him. His home savaged. The dead still to be buried. The foul scent of burning green flesh in the air. Still he wanted to help others.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”