It was times like, buried in rubble and shell-shocked from a near miss by a German cannon, that I was reminded just how ridiculous this body was. I stood up and dusted myself off.

Shards of brick rained in all directions. I scooped my machine gun out of the rubble. Its heat shroud was dented, its water jacket was dented, but otherwise it seemed none the worse for the wear. The big metal bin on the side that held the ammo belt was warped to the side from the impact. I pulled on it and the sheet metal straightened back out.

"Good as new," I muttered as I took off running.

I didn't go directly away from the oncoming Germans. Instead, I ducked around the biggest pile of rubble, taking me back toward where we had found the Hungarian prisoners.

"This is the end of the road," I said. "I'm going to get you."

I took off running. I was not alone. I glanced back to see Wysocki's tank pivoting around. A fountain of dirt from a near miss showered it, but then it roared forward, headed my way. I didn't stop. They were faster than me anyway.

Ahead, Hungarian mechs and Hannah's German one were in a furious firefight with the Germans. One of the Hungarian mechs was severely damaged but was still returning fire. Even as I saw this, it took another hit and collapsed. Its pilot leaped clear, then collapsed on a pile of rubble. She started trying to crawl away. By then I was getting close. I reached down and scooped her up under one arm. The girl let out a startled cry, but I didn't stop running. As shells and bullets fell around us, Wysocki's tank came rumbling up beside me and I slung the girl up onto the back of it where she landed in a heap. That would probably leave some bruises, but there was no time for niceties. The young woman clung there as Wysocki's tank spun in place.

"Go, go, go!" I yelled. "Get out of here!" They pivoted completely around me and were prepared to head for the exit.

"Climb up!" Wysocki shouted.

"I'll get a ride with Hannah, just go!"

Finally, he took the hint and yelled something to his driver. He yelled something to his driver and they roared off towards the exit where my tank had gone.

"It's about damn time!" I muttered.

During this exchange, we'd been mostly shielded from the Germans by the debris pile. Now I climbed up it for a better vantage point. This turned out to be a mistake because even at the top of the pile I was only chest high with the German mechs. As I poked my head up over, two of them reared up in front of me. I had a quick glimpse of the battlefield spread out before me. Hannah was far off to my left, moving and firing with a Hungarian mech close behind. I finally caught a glimpse of Veronica. She was in the thick of the German forces with her blade flashing. This was all I had time for as the German guns swung my way, wielded by the two mechs right in front of me.

Using a mech-sized autocannon to kill a human-sized golem was silly. It was also rather difficult, as I set about proving. I fired at the mech to my left with the machine gun, pointing it in that direction without bothering to aim. As I did, the other mech's gun loomed large right in my face. I put a hand on the barrel and vaulted onto it.

I dropped my machine gun and ran up the gun. Some voice in the back of my mind gibbered that this was a ridiculous action, but that didn't stop me. The strength of the mech's arms were more than enough to hold up my weight along. The cannon’s barrel bucked under my feet as it fired. Then there was a surprise rider in front of me, and I was on the shoulders of the mech itself.

She had quick reactions, I'll give her that. A wave of force washed over me, but golems are notoriously magic-resistant, and it didn't slow me enough to matter. My massive fist caught the young woman in her midsection and sent her tumbling away from her mech. The machine staggered and slumped. It didn't collapse completely, so I thought she might still be alive. I wasn't going to take any chances, but I also wasn't planning on running down and murdering a wounded enemy. Instead, I popped the rear access panel of the mech and tore its desh conduits right out.

Now the mech collapsed in a heap, and a cloud of blue energy. Had I been a normal human, this might have been toxic for me. But a lot of things would have killed me had it not been for my golem body. This just got added to a long list.

As the machine collapsed underneath me, I threw myself to the side and narrowly avoided getting crushed by a massive metal fist. The other mech rider had only been momentarily distracted by my burst of machine gun fire. Now she was ready to avenge her fallen comrade.

The mech loomed over me, fist poised for another strike. The face of its infuriated pilot peeked over the shoulder armor.

I drew my .45 and shot her in the head.

The problem with relying on magical shields to protect you from bullets is you have to expect them. She hadn’t.

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

I climbed over the pile of disabled mech limbs and took off in a trot towards the exit. I was fresh out of mech-killing weapons and had already overstayed my luck. Hannah and Veronica needed to get out on their own because at this point I was only a liability.

Then the massive four-legged mech stomped into my path, bristling with cannons and machine guns, swiveling in my direction. I was moments from becoming a very perforated golem.

And that was when the winged Hussars arrived.

Well, Anastasia was technically still Russian Air Service, but Tamara had been inducted into the Polish Royal Hussars. Their mechs came down from the sky like avenging Valkyries. Anastasia landed among the German mechs, guns blazing. The air mechs wielded a lighter caliber cannon and most of her shots bounced off. But the distraction gave Veronica an opportunity. She had been hard-pressed before. Now her sword flashed with deadly intensity.

My attention was focused on the huge four-legged mech. Tamara had landed her machine right on top of it and she was pumping rounds from her long-barreled autocannon into its upper turrets at point-blank range. The thing had enclosed cruise spaces like a tank or mobile fortress instead of like a traditional mech.

I wondered where its pilots were housed. The knowledge load in my mind immediately supplied me with details. They were inside the mech and were supposed to be protected from desh poisoning by some advanced air filtration system. The engineering notes in my head also mentioned that this had never been tested successfully because the pilots of the two-woman mech invariably went mad.

What the hell were the Germans thinking? Still, they didn't go mad instantaneously, immediately, and the mech was still a threat.

A machine gun turret swiveled in my direction and sprayed me with bullets. I knew there were several other crew members inside, including space for a commander and radio operator, but also multiple turret gunners. The thing really was a monstrosity.

"Aim for the vents at the back," I bellowed.

I couldn't tell if Tamara had heard me, but she was still hammering rounds into the top of the mech at point-blank range. The machine staggered, whether to throw her off or because of the damage she was causing, I couldn't tell. Either way, that spoiled its aim and the turrets were not able to hit me.

Something else from the engineering notes in my head was the knowledge of the concealed handholds built into the armor of the left front leg. This provided crew access, or in the case of a knowledgeable foe, enemy access. I dashed forward, dodged the flailing legs, and leaped onto the side of the left forefoot.

Then it was only a matter of moments to swarm up. Granted, they were moments of abject terror as I was flung around like a ragdoll hanging my rather impressive bulk from my similarly impressive grip on the steel rungs tucked away along the edges of seams in the armor. Honestly, I'll never know how I made it up there, but a few moments later with my fingers screaming in agony, I made it to the top where was a convenient access hatch. The fact that the hatch did not have a lock to keep anyone out was either due to this being a pre-production prototype or because the designers didn't think anyone would be able to make it up that ladder in combat. The notes in my head didn't say which, but either way, it was a serious oversight.

I really wished I had a grenade, but all I had was a combat knife and some .45 caliber automatics.

I wrenched open the door one-handed and stuck a Colt through the opening. There were five rounds in the magazine and one in the chamber, and I emptied them all into the interior. Tight spaces really are very loud with a .45, and ricochets are quite nasty. But aiming while hanging onto the side of a gyrating mech and holding onto a moving door with one hand was virtually impossible.

Emptying my gun through the hatch did little to improve the situation. It did, however, make the crew panic. One of the turret gunners flung open the top hatch and climbed up. Another threw himself at me. Instead of attacking, he leapt from the hatch. As high as the mech was, this probably proved fatal, but I didn't look down to check. It's amazing the things a human will do in a panic.

Another crewman fell screaming past, the one who had climbed out the top side hatch. I started climbing in through my own hatch and caught sight of General Petrov climbing up to the upper deck.

The inside of the mech was cramped with equipment that didn't seem to be laid out in any sort of logical fashion. I knew what every piece of equipment did thanks to the download in my head. It also helped me find strategically placed hand grips that let me quickly climb through the cockpit to the top side hatch. The radio operator got in my way, desperately trying to scramble out of the hatch himself. I grabbed him by the back of the shirt and flung him aside. He clanged into something metallic behind me, and I don't know what happened to him after that. I reached the top side hatch and grabbed onto a ladder just before I climbed up.

I pulled out a fresh magazine for my 1911 and slammed it home. Only one of the two pilots was visible, but that's all I wanted anyway. I needed the mech to kind of stay standing for a bit longer. I felt only a little bad as I shot the Russian woman in the back three times. Then I climbed out the hatch.

Tamara's mech was no longer on the upper deck, but I didn't immediately see where she had gone. General Petrov was waiting for me. He rode the pitching deck like a seasoned sailor. In his hand, he waved a revolver. It was one thing to stay upright on a pitching deck and another to carefully aim a gun while doing it. My first shot went wide.

"What the hell are you? Why won't you just die?"

I lifted my gun. "Oh, I have." I shot him again but it had no effect. I shot him a third time, and General Petrov pitched over the side of his command mech to fall, bleeding, onto a pile of broken bricks.

The mech sagged under me and slumped to one side, lowering us. We were near a pile of debris. So I took a running jump off the side and landed on my feet in a pile of broken bricks. I sank to my knees under the crushed masonry. Overall, I did a better job of landing than any of the Russians had. Several broken bodies lay scattered about.

Petrov lay nearby. He was still breathing. "This can't be happening," he groaned through clenched teeth frothing with blood.

I pulled one massive boot from the masonry pile and then the other, swaying slightly as I caught my balance on the shifting bricks before stepping over to his side. He looked up at me. The anger in his eyes had faded to just confusion.

"This is impossible."

"Yeah," I said. "I tell myself that a lot."

And then I shot him between the eyes.