Last year….

Rafferty scooted to her left, taking advantage of the little shade that the ancient truck cab could provide. She leaned back carefully, it was hard to find a spot that wasn't rusted and pokey, and took a long drink of water from a metal thermos.

The J Hall Hunters were a few miles outside of the village of Brant. They had been sent to investigate reports of a large God. Brant had always been a bad luck town for Hunters. Nobody was quite willing to say it, but each them had been nervous about heading there.

But instead of a God, they found a old truck, the kind Gus called a big rig, which had been partially exposed by shifting dust. Rafferty supposed that the oversized cab looked sort of like a God's head from a distance, though it was hard to say why people thought the God wasn't moving.

Still, she'd had fun "killing" it just the same.

Now, they were sitting around the truck's corpse, enjoying a celebratory post-fight picnic. Trevor wasn't here to enjoy it, and Rafferty felt a little bad about that. He and Colin were back in Brant, helping to repair fences. Blaspheme said that was probably the only reason they had called for help in the first place.

"So who gets the knock on this one?" Sheridan asked playfully, standing up to stretch.

"Well, Rafferty cut its head off," said Cody from her spot by one of the wheel wells.

"Sheridan blasted half its face off before that," said Lena, sticking up for her Hunter.

"Head shots don't work unless you take out the whole head and you know it," barked Rafferty, pointing her finger at Sheridan's Jack and trying not to laugh.

"Besides, I flipped over the whole box part with my first strike. There's no way that wouldn't have, like, smashed its heart into a million pieces," said Cody.

"For the last time DeCarlo," said Blaspheme, jumping down from her spot on the roof of the truck, "Gods don't have hearts."

"But then how can they love?" asked Cody, a wide eyed expression of horror on her face.

Rafferty laughed, choking on a mouthful of water, and letting it dribble down her chin.

.

She was pretty sure Cody was kidding.

Pretty sure.

The first bullet struck the van just above Rafferty's right ear. She heard a second pop. Then a third.

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Balls. Balls. Balls.

Rafferty slid for cover, already hearing Trevor chastise her in her head.

You let them sneak up on you? There were six of you. Six. With nothing for miles in any direction. Miles, Rafferty. Miles.

Shut up, Trevor.

She looked up from under the truck's cab. She saw three men on foot in tattered maroon uniforms. Each carried a gun. Rafferty heard another bullet hit metal, and thought it was from the other side of the truck, which meant there were others back there. She doubted they had a lot of bullets, but if she made the wrong move, one bullet would be enough. Her sword, triumphantly stuck in the dust after her "victory," was an agonizing twenty feet away.

"Cover!" shouted Lena to Rafferty's right.

Rafferty watched as Lena stood up and strode away from the truck. Lena carried two pistols in a strappy holster, and she drew them both. On a good day, both would shoot straight. Lena was trying to engage the attackers, whoever they were, giving the Hunters time to organize.

Rafferty took a lot of abuse for being the "rash" one in the group, but if any member of J Hall had a reckless disregard for her own safety, it was Sheridan's fearless Jack. Lena stopped about twenty paces from the truck, set her feet, and started shooting.

If Lena was going, that meant Oscar had to go too, and Rafferty thought she heard a frustrated groan as he unstrapped his hatchet, and slipped past the detached cab to support Blaspheme on the other side of the truck. Oscar's fine rifle, which would have been useful right about now, was back in the Hunter's van, but his accuracy with a hurled hatchet, to say nothing of the half dozen knives tucked inside his long coat, was nothing to be dismissed.

"Shield!" Lena shouted to Sheridan.

"Shield!" Sheridan shouted back.

J Hall's archer always carried at least one shield arrow in her quiver. When fired, it would create a protective bubble around the group. It wouldn't last long, maybe ten seconds, but it should be enough to let everyone get their bearings.

Rafferty heard Sheridan land on top of the truck. Sheridan would have to launch herself off the top, and outside of the radius of the shield, firing back toward the truck. This would put Sheridan in harm's way. They would have to act fast once the shield came down.

The truck rocked slightly when Sheridan jumped. There was a gunshot, probably from Blaspheme, and then a yelp, which Rafferty wouldn't understand until later. A blue wall rose up and over the truck.

Rafferty slid out from under the cab, sprinting toward her sword. Once she plucked it from the ground, she turned and saw Cody brandishing her hammer.

"Scare tactics," Cody said, and Rafferty nodded.

It was better than these guys deserved, but she understood Cody's thinking. Cody didn't know who they were or why they were here, and she wasn't about to use lethal force when she didn't have answers.

Rafferty crouched, ready to spring upward as soon as the curtain of Blue disappeared. The barrier popped, crackled, and dissipated, and Rafferty launched into the air. She lifted her knees, and stomped both feet into the ground as she landed, turning her left heel inward as she did so. A branching line of Blue spread out towards the attackers, shaking the ground underneath them. The force of the move wasn't great, too weak to break anything stronger than thin ice or weak glass, but they didn't know that, and it looked intimidating.

Cody, meanwhile, had pinwheeled in the air, landing with an imposing thud, the head of her hammer ablaze with blue fire. She looked up and shouted in her deepest voice.

"You want some? Come and freakin' get some!"

Whoever they were, they apparently didn't freakin' want some, because they turned and fled in the face of the Hunters' attacks. Rafferty didn't know if they were thieves who thought they might score some Blue weapons, some group with a grudge, or just a band of scavengers looking for some mischief.

And she never would find out.

Rafferty heard something from the other side of the truck. It sounded like Sheridan snickering, but that didn't make sense.

She and Cody made their way around the truck. When they talked about it later, the best J Hall could figure was that Blaspheme had fired just as Sheridan had released the shield arrow. Somehow the Blue on Blue interaction had gone wonky, and magnetized the side of the truck. The Blue-infused Gear hadn't stuck, but everything else metal had been drawn towards it.

Blaspheme was centered on the truck's long side, stuck a good ten feet off the ground by her belt buckle.

Oscar was trying to pull his stuck hatchet free from the truck. The force had ripped the hatchet from his hand, and his coat right off of his body. Rafferty saw a few guns stuck to the truck as well, and assumed the accident had disarmed the attackers on that side, and sent them running as well.

"I don't know what you're laughing at Fawkes, this is your fault!" Blaspheme shouted from her new perch.

Sheridan giggled again, covering her mouth with her hand.

"Is someone gonna get me down?" Blaspheme asked in an irritated growl.

"But you look so pretty up there," Cody teased.

"Yeah, I'm sure this truck's never looked better," added Rafferty.

"You're funny, funny bitches. Now seriously, get me down. I have to pee," barked Blaspheme.

Sheridan lost the fight with her laughter, and dropped to her knees, tears streaming down her face.

Blaspheme's profanity laced response echoed across the Breaks.