With some of the armor with Travis the artificer and the unknown group seemingly vanishing into the deep wilderness, John wasn’t sure what to do.

There was the option to chase the two walkers and recover the last of the miners who were taken prisoner, but he dismissed that idea. When he had first set out after Jacob, he had expected to encounter a group like the bandits that attacked the train. Instead, it was a group that was well organized, well funded, and working with the local Harc’otti. Had he known that before trailing them, he would have approached that situation much more cautiously.

Considering what these people were mining, there was a good chance they would return eventually. If not to finish mining the remains of the soul stone, then to exact revenge for their lost people and armor. Although he suspected the Harc’otti would be the ones to attack first. The town was already preparing for that eventuality, so they should be ready for it when it happened. At least he hoped so.

That marked one issue off his list that he had been sent out here to deal with. But the bigger question was who was this group? They couldn’t be very large. If they had the numbers, they wouldn’t need to be sneaking around like they were. They would have simply taken over Ember Creek and used it as a base of operations. At least that is what John would do. It would be easy to control the town with the only means of information being the train.

If the group were a large one, they wouldn’t have needed to rely on local manpower either. The Harc’otti might be warriors by nature, but even John could see they were unaccustomed to their new weapons and armor. If he were in charge of this unknown group, he certainly wouldn’t have handed a bunch of savage barbarians armor and weapons like they had. Arming them, sure, that was a given. Training people to use guns wasn’t difficult. And it would have been far more effective than those suits of armor.

Then again, maybe that was the point. What if this group was using the Harc’otti to test out their new invention? Considering Jacob’s group seemed to be one step ahead of him at all times, they weren’t stupid. Using their hired muscle to test out something potentially dangerous or that may not work properly fit with what he had observed from this group so far. So what did the Harc’otti get out of this deal? A few guns and armor that would require Jacob’s group to maintain seemed like a shit deal. Then again, maybe it wasn’t for the Harc’otti.

He mulled over these thoughts as he soaked in the bath. Riding on the walker may not have been as tiring as riding a horse all day, but John had been going for almost four days straight. More if he included his encounter with the trap and assassins at the mining camp.

Even someone like him needed time to rest and recuperate. A few sleepless nights may not have bothered him back when he was still in the Irtishian Army, but back then he was still high on the serum as well as in his early twenties. Two hundred-plus years of wear and tear would affect anyone's body, no matter who they were.

John soaked in the tub, letting his sore muscles and old injuries relax until the water turned tepid. With a sigh, he finally pulled himself from the water and toweled himself off before draining the tub and getting dressed in his night clothes.

He glanced over at the pile of dirty clothes that had accumulated so far. A lot of it was nothing more than bloody rags now. John would need to see about cleaning the items that could be saved and maybe purchasing a few new sets. That was an issue for the following morning though. He blew out the candle near the bed and went to sleep.

***

The next day brought a deluge of rain that kept anyone sane inside. So where was John? He was out back scrubbing the blood from his clothing while wearing soaking wet smallclothes. The rain didn’t bother John, he found it refreshing. Most people might say it was better enjoyed while not wearing wet clothes but that was their opinion. For him, the weight of the sodden clothes felt like a comfortable embrace, if a bit chilly. With his hat keeping most of the rain from his face and eyes, he was left to work in peace. Something that seemed to be rather rare these days.

By the time he finished washing his remaining clothes, the thunderstorm had mostly passed, leaving the air smelling heavy with pine. He finished hanging up the clothes before stripping off his underclothes and washing those as well.

He walked back into the house and headed for the bathroom, where he toweled off and dressed in his only clean suit. The warm bath, the good night's sleep, and the cold shower had all done wonders to reinvigorate him.

With his weapons checked and loaded, he stepped out and walked into town.

Ember Creek wasted no time coming back alive as the rain slowed to a light pattering. The only people he passed that didn’t seem enthusiastic were the workers. And that was because they were stuck in town and couldn’t work.

With the mines closed until they could deal with the threat, they were understandably disgruntled. Although, he suspected some were not as upset as others. If he had been kidnapped, he wouldn’t be eager to leave the confines of the town and venture back into the mines. He suspected at least a few of the workers harbored similar feelings.

John couldn’t blame them. A large chunk of the workers had been kidnapped, and a good majority of those had died in the last week. The shutdown of the mines was an issue he needed to solve, and soon. Otherwise, Daniel Novarez was going to find someone who would. And he doubted the next person his boss sent would care a lick about the miners' safety.

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He didn’t know if the former foreman had sent any correspondence back to New Gata when the train left, but he needed to proceed assuming the weasly little shit had. That gave him a little over two weeks before the train returned.

The old John would have just shot the next person Daniel sent to do this job. And sometimes he wished he was still that man. But he wasn’t. Now he only killed when he had to. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t rough a guy up, or shoot them in the knee to make a point though. He couldn’t do that with anyone Daniel sent, not without worrying that the bastard would do something even worse.

Daniel would probably hire a group of mercenaries. Enough people to ensure the town's complete compliance. They would likely have the order to remove him if he got in the way as well. The man always detested John’s presence. Likely because it was a constant reminder of his father.

So no matter who came on that next train, John would play nice. Unless they forced his hand, then he would send them to an early grave and deal with whatever consequences came afterward.

He pushed open the door to the general store, and the bell overhead dinged. A tall boy of around fifteen came out from the back room. “Greetings Mister, How can I help you today?”

“Billy?”

“That’s correct, Sir.”

John held his hand out and the boy shook it. “I’m John. Your father told me about you.”

The boy’s eyes widened. “You’re the new lawman everyone's been going on about. I heard you finally gave those Klein boys a piece of mind. It’s about time someone dealt with those ruffians.”

Internally John winced, but he decided not to correct the boy. He certainly wasn’t a lawman. “Uh, yeah. Not a fan of them I assume?”

The boy shook his head. “The younger ones attend classes, sometimes. But mostly they just bully the other kids at the schoolhouse.”

Considering their Pappy, that didn’t surprise John. “I actually came by to get some new clothes.”

“…Oh, right. Sorry,” the boy looked embarrassed. “Most of the clothes we got are one size fits all, but my ma will size them for you for a bit extra. She does good work, see,” he turned so John could see the seams in his shirt. It wasn’t half bad. Especially if she was doing it by hand.

“I think I will take you up on that.”

The boy beamed.

After picking out a few new outfits, and a new set of underclothes, John let the boy measure him.

“Thanks for holding still. You’d be surprised how many men fidget when I measure them or just outright refuse to let me.” John could see that. He had been much the same in his younger days. Just a naïve farmer boy who got conscripted and shoved into a world he was ill-equipped to understand. Since then he had been poked, prodded, stabbed, cut open, and fitted for so many different styles of clothing that he had lost count. A little bit of measuring was nothing in comparison.

After paying for his purchase, using real money and not that fake shit that Daniel was trying to peddle, he left to go look for Seline. It had been a few days, he was hoping she had enough time to fix one of his rifles.

When he arrived at the jail, he found the place empty and locked up. He noticed a sign, off to the side. ‘Out training, back at dusk.’

Had they really taken their deputies out training in this weather? John shook his head. The rain was one thing, but then there was mud. It stank, and got everywhere, making even the simplest of tasks a nightmare. It also gummed up weapons, making you have to clean them far more often. He was glad he wasn’t some snot-nosed recruit anymore and he could choose not to deal with mud.

With nothing but time on his hands until they got back, he popped over to the Saloon to chat up Madam Cassandra and have a drink or two.

The woman really was a delight. And the more he chatted with her, the more he could see the high society upbringing she tried to hide peek through. John didn’t know who she was, but that was part of the fun. She could keep her little secret.

He bid her farewell as the sun set and headed back toward the jail. He passed a weary group of men on his way. The group all nodded at him as they passed on their way to the Silken Riches.

There wasn’t much else in terms of entertainment in the town, and by the time John had left, the place had become filled with raucous laughter, singing, and dancing; courtesy of Henry. If he recalled correctly, that was the man Seline fancied. Turns out he also doubled as a very talented piano player and singer.

John had only been in the town for a week, but it seemed like every day he learned about someone far more talented to be out here. It was odd. Certainly, some of the people came out here to make a living, but if he had to guess, there were more than a few out here not by choice, but by necessity.

He couldn’t judge them for doing something similar to what he had also done when there was no other choice.

As John walked into the office, he found a very wet and unhappy-looking Seline, alongside an equally wet, and significantly muddier Wyatt. The only difference is the Sheriff looked smug. “Sheriff, Deputy… Is this a bad time?”

“It’s fine,” Seline stated grumpily.

“Not like any time is a good time at the moment,” the Sheriff added. “What’s on your mind, Smith?”

“Nothing much. I just wanted to fill you in on our little excursion.” He broke down what happened as succinctly as possible.

“Is Uncle Travis ok?” Seline asked when he got to the part about the mountain lion.

“He’s fine,” John assured her. “The man has probably completely forgotten about the experience by now. Especially with that armor to play with.”

“Shame you couldn’t grab them all,” Blackwood rubbed at his chin, knocking loose a chunk of mud from his beard.

John shrugged. “We could go back and collect the rest, but one trip out was risky enough.”

“Yeah. I’m surprised they were still out there when you arrived. Word must not have gotten back to their chiefs about our little ambush. Still, it would have been nice to get them just to deny them to the Harc’otti bastards.”

“I doubt we will have to worry about them getting them working. Not unless the group Jacob is a part of returns.”

“It’s dangerous to assume they aren’t smart enough to make them work,” Seline cut in.

“Oh, I’m not underestimating the Harc’otti. But something your Uncle said makes me think they won’t work without something Jacob’s group has.”

She looked at him curiously, but he cut her off before she could ask. “Speak with your Uncle if you want to know more about it.” He didn’t want to get roped into a conversation about the minutiae of automata. If she wanted to know, she and her uncle could discuss it at length.

“Right…”

Good. Now that he got her off that subject, he could ask her about what he really came to talk about. “By the way, have you made any headway on my rifles?”