“You done?” John asked. He knew he looked like hell warmed over. His outfit was chared and torn where it wasn’t covered in dirt and pine sap.

“Almost,” the man chuckled while also trying not to wince. “So, Mr. Gunslinger, what’s next.”

John took off his hat and ran his hand through his hair, grimacing at all the dirt he felt. “I can’t imagine they didn’t hear the explosion. So either we are walking into another trap, or our quarry will be gone. Either way, I suggest you pray if you believe in a higher power for some luck, we’re gonna need it if they have any more of these things.”

The Sheriff looked at the unmoving suit of armor, his levity vanishing as resolve took its place. “I’m good,” the man spoke quietly. It sounded like he meant it and John didn’t see any more shaking in his hands.

John nodded. “Good work on taking it down.”

“I can’t take all the credit. It was Seline’s overenthusiastic explanations on how this stuff works that told me what I needed to shoot.”

John listened as the man pointed out weak spots to aim for. The fact that they were all located on the backside of these suits of armor wasn’t ideal, but he would figure something out.

After getting a rundown on the armor, John pulled the last of his functioning long rifles from the back of the saddle and loaded it. Blackwood didn’t own a long rifle, but John had given the four pneuma rifles from his would-be assassins to the Peacekeepers. Two had been broken, but Seline had assured him they could be easily fixed. The man was currently looking over the one he had brought along.

“Tsk, scope must have gotten damaged by the steam. I won’t be able to shoot accurately past a hundred yards without it. My eyes aren’t as good as they used to be.”

“That’s fine. Just try to keep anyone from pinning me down.”

Wyatt nodded. “I have about twelve shots before the tank goes dry. Then I’ll need to switch to my revolver. Another six on that, then it's down to Sally.”

“Sally?”

Blackwood pulled out a large revolver and turned it so John could get a good look.

“Looks impressive, Did Deputy Seline make it?”

The man nodded. “Self-recharging and also as powerful, if not more than your own six-shooter.”

John let out a low whistle of approval. If it was indeed as powerful as his own, he may need to have her make him a pair. Especially if this group wasn’t dealt with today.

“You got everything you need? We’re going to have to leave the horses.”

“Almost. Wait for me around the bend, I’ll catch up in a minute.” Blackwood said before walking over to his injured horse.

John knew what was coming, so instead of answering, he walked his horse down the trail a ways so it wouldn’t get spooked by the scent of blood.

A minute later he heard the quiet pop of a pneuma pistol going off. Shortly after that, the Sherrif came walking down the trail, rifle in both hands. “Let’s go get these murdering bastards!”

The two left the trail and made a beeline for the ridge situated to the right of where the trail dipped down over the hill. It should give them a decent vantage point to fire from if this group was ready and waiting below.

John had expected to encounter some more opposition in the forest, but as they made their way slowly to their position, he didn’t spot any movement. It made no sense. He thought he may have overlooked something like he almost missed the two armored figures hidden amongst the thick brush, but he was being extra critical of any large clumps or bushes. There wasn’t any movement, or any hint of the steam that powered the devices.

That only made him more wary. Everything about this screamed trap, but he couldn’t see any way it could be a trap. As they neared the edge of the rise, he motioned for Blackwood to lay flat. Once they were prone, they slowly crawled to the edge overlooking the valley below.

John paled at what he saw, and Sheriff Blackwood nearly cursed out loud before covering his own mouth. It wasn’t a trap, it was worse.

Over the hill was what looked like a prison camp. In it were close to ninety people, all forced into a circle on the ground. Around that circle were five more of those suits. Only these were holding some sort of weapon. These weapons were aimed at the sitting forms of the exhausted-looking workers. He even saw Jacob speaking with someone else, but that person was standing inside a tent so he couldn’t see who it was.

If that were all they were facing, John may have said they had a chance. But there were another two of the armored forms, standing behind a thick wooden barricade, pointing what looked like cannons at the trail that led into the valley and the camp. If he had to guess, they were probably filled with grapeshot. Again, he could have probably figured out a way to deal with those. But not the two walkers alongside everything else.

These weren’t the same as the stripped-down thing he had encountered with the bandits. These new ones may have been smaller overall, but the two walkers in the camp had thick wooden boxes on the top that covered the entire platform. This box structure was also covered in metal strapping held in place by rivets. It reminded John of strong boxes, or wagons designed to transport criminals. From ports along the side, guns stuck out. If the opposite sides matched what he could see, each walker had four shooters at least.

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It seemed someone had taken the idea of combining a reinforced position and these walking monstrosities together. He had to applaud the insanity of it, even if he would have preferred to put a bullet in the person who came up with the idea. Why was it always war that seemed to push humanity ahead in developments?

John motioned for them to back away from the cliff edge. The enemy was ready for them and clearly prepared to kill off the workers. His original idea of picking them off one by one was not going to work. They were going to have to come up with another plan if they had any chance of taking down Jacob while saving these prisoners.

As they crawled away from the edge of the cliff, he couldn’t stop wondering who the hell this group was.

They had an artificer, one that seemed extremely clever from what John could see. They had money because you don’t just hire this many people without it. And they seemed to have a leader who could predict what John was going to do even before he even knew.

And that didn’t even explain what they wanted or why they were out here. What could possibly be worth this much time and effort? Gold? Silver? A mine filled with precious gems? The last one was unlikely given the need for explosives, but still. They were after something. John had seen the mine entrance at the far side of the camp. But there was no indication of what they were hauling out of it.

“What do we do now?” Blackwood hissed quietly once they were out of view of the camp.

“We wait and see if anything changes. How’s your night vision?”

“Shit. But if they light any lanterns, I could probably see well enough to take some shots. But what are we gonna do about the armored walkers?”

“I’m still trying to figure that out.”

“Well, ya best hurry, because we only have a few hours until dark. So if you don’t mind, I’m going to get some shut-eye before this shindig kicks off.”

John nodded to the man as he rubbed his chin in thought. He wasn’t worried about them coming out to look for them. They would have done so by now if they planned to. No, they knew they had the tactical advantage if they stayed in their little valley.

He had seen the wagon filled with explosives sitting near the mine entrance. But shooting it probably wouldn’t set the substance off. Although that would be a bad idea anyway. The blast would probably kill everyone in the camp, including the workers. He mentally marked that as a last resort.

Sneaking down there and grabbing a few sticks might be a possibility. But he would need to see what night presented them. If the enemy had lanterns surrounding their camp, there was no way he was getting in undetected.

John was coming up blank for ideas. Maybe if they had managed to preserve one of the armored suits, they could have used that to infiltrate the place, but that would have been a long shot.

***

After three more hours of fruitless ideas, John crawled back to the cliff to see if anything had changed, leaving the Sheriff to sleep. As he peeked over the edge, he was surprised to see both walkers were gone. They had also struck camp as all the tents were missing as well. That just left the suits and the miners.

He tried to scan the faces of the people below for Jacob, but in the fading light, he couldn’t tell for sure who was who. The only thing he was certain of, was that most of the workers were still sitting huddled into a circle.

John had no clue where the walkers had gone, they certainly hadn’t left via the trail. He had been watching it ever since they left the cliff in case he needed to wake Blackwood and make a run for it. There must be a back way out of the valley.

If Jacob had escaped, John wasn’t sure what he could do. There was no way he was chasing down those armored walkers even with a walker of his own. He decided to set that issue to the side and focus on the one he could solve. With the walkers gone, now was their chance to save the trapped workers.

Seven against two. Those were numbers he could work with.

After waking Blackwood, John told him of the missing walkers and his plan. The man grumbled but agreed as he made his way back to the overlook. John circled wide and crossed over the trail to the opposite side of the cannon-wielding men.

The hill on this side wasn’t as steep, which is why he hadn’t used it to survey the camp. But it should work for what he had planned.

The fact that this whole plan hinged on the Sheriff hitting his mark wasn’t ideal, but he had no other options. Sooner or later these people would get rid of their captives.

As the sun was just setting on the horizon, John made his move. He popped up to a sitting position, took a breath, and pulled the trigger. He had noticed the Harc’otti who were piloting the suits of armor weren’t very disciplined. Most had opened up their helmets as the night dragged on. Unfortunately, the two on the cannons had not.

That was fine, those were Blackwood’s problems to deal with. John’s first shot took one of the men surrounding the captives right in the temple.

Before the man could even drop, or anyone else could react, John sent two more rapid-fire shots, taking out two more of the armored forms. His fourth shot splattered harmlessly against the helmet of the next man.

From his peripheral vision, John tracked the two manning the cannons as they quickly redirected them up to his position. But he was focused on the two remaining armored forms guarding the workers. In the chaos, the workers took the opportunity to get up and flee as the guards leveled their weapons at them.

Calming himself, John focused, letting the world around him fade away as he adjusted his rifle ever so slightly. Then he squeezed the trigger. The bullet impacted the open slit on the visor of one of the armored Harc’otti, causing the form to flinch sideways just as it fired its weapon.

This is when John got to see what these horrific weapons did. A long gout of superheated water spewed from the tube of the weapon, splattering against a few unlucky workers before flashing across the final armored form.

The second man went down screaming as boiling liquid sprayed through the gaps in the armor to melt skin and cook the man inside. The injured man kept flailing around, not caring where he aimed the weapon. But John had no more time to focus on him. The other two had managed to get the cannons in place.

With no time to spare, John threw himself over the crest of the hill as two volleys of shot eviscerated the area he had just been standing in. His leap to safety wasn’t completely successful as he felt something tear into his legs.

Shaking from the pain, he tore off some of his shirt and did his best to stem the bleeding in his legs. They had been hit multiple times by the metal balls. Perhaps someone was looking out for him because none had hit bones or arteries. Despite his ability to heal faster than normal men, he could still bleed out.

There was a popping sound followed by two short screams. He smiled despite the pain, Sheriff Blackwood had hit his mark. That left only the half-blind man remaining.

John attempted to crawl back up the hill to deal with the last target when his head went fuzzy and he blacked out.