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GodHunters
Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Sam stood in front of the fallen God. What had started as a shiny speck on the horizon had risen and twisted until it became the great steel beast that lay before him. He hadn't known they could get this big.

And he wasn't sure he wanted to know what happened to the its head.

It was some moments before he moved, as if some part of him was afraid the God would sit up, and be quite displeased that someone had come to scavenge its remains. It was a question from Asher, still in the truck, that got him moving. Good boy. Others would come. They had to get started.

They had heard the fall all the way over at the Oasis. Only one thing made a noise like that. Gasoline was precious, and the trip had taken a lot of it, but it was a chance they had to take. The metal, particularly at the joints, was strong and light and flexible, perfect for reinforcing their gate and fashioning the irrigation pipes.

Sam grabbed the hacksaws, and boosted Asher up onto the shoulder. They would need the blowtorch later, but had limited fuel. It was going to be a long day.

He was inside the right shoulder, working his way through the upper arm. Asher, on the other end of the big two-handed saw, was standing on top of the arm. Sam's elbow was already starting to hurt, and it was still morning. He was getting old. He heard heavy footfalls behind him, and turned to see the largest man he had ever seen in his life. He saw the tattoo on his arm, so he knew who the guy worked for. The giant put one hand on Sam's shoulder and moved him aside with ease, shooting him a look with a simple message.

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Sam stood still as the newcomer walked further into the arm. There would be no work until he was gone. Nothing would be done to risk offending. A few minutes later, he emerged, a bundle of strange glowing tubes under his arm. Sam heard an engine start a few moments later. Asher started sawing, and they did not speak of the man again.

Dozens arrived, little black dots scattered over the God's corpse. Mostly, the groups worked independently and spoke little, the sounds of hammers and saw teeth filling the heat of the day. There was plenty to go around.

A group of goggled Electronauts left with bundles of coiled cable. Sam watched a kid, not much older than Asher, pry at a piece of one of the large fingers until it came loose. Sam had him pegged as an aspiring Forgiveness Man.

As afternoon turned into evening, a ratty scavenger pulled an ancient pistol on him, trying to claim a piece Sam had hewn for himself. Sam looked at his bloodshot eyes, and shaking hands, and thought about making a move. Bullets were rare, and he really doubted this rough looking weasel had any. He caught Asher's eye. The boy was tense and angry, but still looking to his father. Sam relaxed, and made a small motion for him to step back. Thankfully, Asher did, and they moved on to another spot, watching as the scavenger struggled away with his prize. The loss of the metal hurt, but he felt proud of his son, and that helped. That's how you made it in the Breaks. You took care.

Another traveler, who introduced himself as Eastern Josh, helped them cut through a section comprising the neck and upper shoulder, a prized piece called the collar. They split it down the middle.

Sam and Asher loaded the truck with as much as it could carry. Sam was a little worried about the weight, but he'd chance it. It was almost dark when they drove away, leaving many of the others still picking over the husk.

By morning, little remained. The winds would scatter those stray bits of metal, and the dust would claim them for its own.

Out in the Breaks, even a God could disappear.