John did not run into any more Harc’otti as he retrieved his hat from the stable. He did notice that someone had removed the bodies of the warriors he killed though.

That was strange enough that he decided to follow the drag marks.

He stopped before reaching the edge of town. The marks continued into the forest and he wasn’t in any condition to run into more than one or two warriors at the moment.

It made no sense why someone would have dragged these individuals out of the town, but all of the other bodies were simply left where they fell. Were they someone important? It was the only thing John could think of for someone to risk dragging them away.

He set the mystery aside as he scanned the treeline. There was plenty of movement among the shadows of the forest but he was too far away to see clearly, even with his eyesight. The Harc’otti had retreated, but they weren’t gone.

Seeing no point in staring at some trees, John moved back into Ember Creek and started checking houses. Even in his injured state, standing around didn’t sit well with him.

The first houses were all clear and he marked them for the Sheriff. Then he came across the house with the man who had the shotgun. Two dead Harc’otti lay outside and even without entering, John could see the corpses of two people inside.

He pulled out his revolver and headed into the small home. The only thing that greeted him was the metallic tang of blood. He looked around but did not find the shotgun. It had been a long shot to hope that the Harc’otti had left the weapon behind. John hoped the man hadn’t had much ammo for the thing, then it would be completely useless in the hands of the barbarians.

After closing the eyes of the homeowners, he stepped back out and kept searching.

Looking for survivors and ferreting out hidden warriors was a rather morbid affair. John had done and seen worse before though.

The next building he came to was a two-story affair. He would have bypassed the building because of the risk, but he caught the movement of a curtain out of the corner of his eye.

John drew his revolver again and slowly approached the front door. It had some hack marks in it but was otherwise intact. There was no wooden squeak to give him away this time. John reached for the handle and gave it a slight turn. The handle creaked slightly and John heard an unmistakeable click.

With all the speed his enhanced reflexes could muster, he threw himself out of the way of the door as two blasts went off, tearing large holes into the door, but thankfully missing him. He knew where the shotgun had gone now. John kicked in the door, not waiting for the person inside to reload, but he stopped himself from shooting as he faced off against a teenage boy.

“Billy! What in tarnation are you doing out here?”

The kid’s wild-eyed gaze and shaking hands visibly relaxed as he saw who it was.

“I thought you were one of those barbarian savages. I didn’t hit you did I?”

“I’m fine,” John grunted, “Answer my question.”

There was a creak from the top of the stairs and John took his eyes from the boy to see a girl of similar age peeking around a hallway. She gave a startled squeak before dashing back into the room.

He turned back to Billy with a quirked eyebrow.

The young man’s face flushed with embarrassment. “We weren’t doing nothing. I came to make sure she was okay. Before I could leave, the Harc’otti came screaming into the town. We hid in the root cellar until the noise died down. I heard the shots and the screaming. When it was quiet enough, I went to retrieve the neighbor's shotgun.”

“That was a decidedly stupid and risky move. Why didn’t the Harc’otti break the door down?”

“It was unlocked. They simply opened it and searched the house before leaving. I closed it and have been keeping watch and waiting for someone to come.”

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

John sighed. “Fine. You and your lady friend, come with me. And reload that gun before we go.”

The boy nodded and called the girl down. She looked reluctant at first but eventually came down the stairs wearing a clean dress. Had she really just changed from the dirt-covered thing she had been wearing a moment ago?

He just shook his head. “Keep up, and try not to shoot me if we run into any problems.”

John escorted the pair back to the bridge and turned them loose. With night approaching, the town had settled into a tense silence.

Sheriff Blackwood and his people returned just before sunset dragging their feet in exhaustion. John didn’t feel much better than they looked. Healing always took a lot out of him, and he usually needed to rest afterward to feel up to his usual self. He doubted that would be happening tonight.

“Sheriff, how did the search go?”

The man sat down on a nearby bench with a weary sigh. “Ran into four more homes with Harc’otti hiding inside. Did the best we could for today, but we’re gonna have to search all the open ones again tomorrow. Assuming the bastards leave us be overnight.”

“So I’m not the only one who thinks they are going to try something tonight?”

Blackwood shook his head. “I think the people in the houses were either meant to keep us occupied or to hit us as soon as we let our guard down. I wouldn’t put it past them to try and cross the river either. With the cover of night, they will have a much easier time of it.”

It made sense to John. While it wasn’t a tactic he had used during his time as an irregular, it fit in with everything else.

“We should have enough guns to post sentries. Maybe have someone build some fire pits along the outskirts and the river edge to see better.”

Blackwood sighed and got back up. “I’m too old for this shit. Let's go speak to the fine folk defending the bridge and get them split up into teams of two. They can split watch.”

It took a bit to gather up the defenders. A good majority of them had fallen asleep from exhaustion. Once they were gathered up, Wyatt spoke.

“We need you fine folk to split into groups of two. I am going to be assigning you sentry locations along the town’s outskirts.” He relayed the rest of their duties and told them to scream as loud as they could if they spotted anyone sneaking in.

It was the best they could do with the time they had remaining before darkness settled in. John took the remaining time to rearm himself, recharge the pistol, and take a quick nap.

He awoke a few hours later when someone called his name.

“John, it’s time.”

He blinked the sleep out of his eyes and rose from the sitting position he had been sleeping in. He thanked the Sheriff who looked even more tired now than he did a few hours ago. “You may want to think about getting some rest too.”

“Worry about yourself. I’ll be fine until shift change.”

John just shrugged. “Suit yourself. I’m gonna go walk the perimeter.”

Other than some soft snoring, coming from people trying to sleep, the only other noise that disturbed the night was the rhythmic sound of Travis’s auto-hammer.

The man had been at whatever he was working on since their conversation earlier in the day. John was sure that wasn’t making the artificer any friends among the people trying to get some rest.

It didn’t bother John though. He had slept in the middle of battlefields before, a muted hammering in the distance was nothing in comparison.

He whistled lightly as he approached the first sentry spot. He didn’t want to startle anyone, but the man staring into the darkness from the building still jumped slightly.

“Who goes there?”

“It’s John Smith. I’m just doing some rounds.”

The man grumbled under his breath about having the shit scared out of him but nodded. “A little more warning next time.”

“Sorry. Anything to report?” John asked as he stopped beside the open window.

“Quiet as a church mouse out there. Too quiet if you ask me.”

He passed his gaze over the bed of glowing red coals set a fair distance out. John didn’t see anything moving in the darkness but if the man said it was too quiet, he would take his word for it. The locals would have much more experience with the sounds of the night around these parts.

“Watch for any shadows moving past the fires. And remember what the Sheriff told you.”

“Oh, don’t worry. If I see Harc’otti coming, I won’t forget to start screaming.”

John nodded and moved on to the next position.

He made it all the way to the train tracks before he heard screaming. “Stay in your position,” he yelled to a startled sentry as he raced past the man.

John unslung his rifle and flipped off the safety. He heard the unmistakable hiss of a pneuma rifle firing and he pushed even harder.

He was near the south end of town when he finally spotted the attack.

Twelve figures cloaked in sticks and covered in leaves had just abandoned their cover and were firing arrows and sprinting toward the buildings.

John dropped to a knee and took aim. With methodical precision, he emptied the magazine on his rifle. Six men dropped.

From his experience with the weapon, John knew it was faster to swap the firing mechanism than it was to reload the magazine. That was if he didn’t have spare magazines. He flicked the lever and the metal case fell to the ground. John reached into his breast pocket to grab the second of three magazines Seline had made for him.

Before the first case hit the dirt, John had already slapped the second one in and loaded the next round.

Caught in a crossfire, the attackers momentarily froze. It was enough for the sentry to pick off two of them, allowing John to shoot the last four.

If that was the last of it, he would have been happy. But no sooner had the last man dropped when he heard screaming back the way he came.

He picked up the empty clip and reloaded it as he ran. At this rate, he was going to run out of ammo and have to swap back and forth between the firing mechanisms.