The old artificer pushed the auto-wagon as fast as it would go which wasn’t very fast on the uneven terrain. The automatons were designed to run on paved streets or packed roads, not rough grassland. The roughness of the return trip was hell on his broken arm, but John simply gritted his teeth and tried to cradle the arm to absorb some of the shocks.

By the time they reached the streets of Ember Creek, he was sweating and dizzy from the pain. John knew that wasn’t a good sign. It meant an infection was likely burning its way through his system. Faster healing didn’t mean he was immune from such things. They just tended to burn hotter and faster than in normal folk.

“T- tell the Doc to wrap my arm in a cast, but n- not to give me anything for the pain!” he stated firmly, right before he blacked out. Whatever the artificer started to say in reply was lost in the haze of his mind.

When John woke up again, he felt like he had been trampled by a horse. He supposed what actually happened wasn’t far off. He blinked away a buildup of gunk in his eyes as he looked around the dark room without turning his head.

There was still a bit of fuzziness lingering in his mind, so he didn’t think he had been out very long. Five or six hours if he had to guess by the lack of light.

After a few minutes, he felt well enough to move his head. His arm was covered in a thick cast and John could still feel a throbbing pain coming from it. He lifted it gently, but there was no searing pain like before. With a sigh of relief, he set it back down. It was well on its way to healing. Another day and it would be as good as new.

Unfortunately, he didn’t have a day to sit covalescing in bed. With some effort, he finally managed to sit up. He wasn’t wearing anything except his underclothes. But he spotted the rest of his clothing off to the side. He wondered how he was going to put it on with the cast until he realized all of the right arms had been cut off. His shirt and jacket were ruined. Not that he would complain. The Doc did what he needed to do. The armored vest was still in one piece though.

John was glad he was unconscious for the removal of that as well as his other clothes. It would not have been a fun experience.

He managed to shimmy on the shirt and vest. Putting his holster back on took a bit of work. All the buckles had been loosened and moved around when he had Seline use it as a sling. But he got it adjusted well enough that it didn’t chafe or move around.

John left the jacket. Unless he buttoned it closed, it wouldn’t remain in place because the cut extended all the way to the collar. If he did that, he wouldn’t be able to reach his gun. The hip holster he had was for a right-handed shooter. John still buckled it in place so he could get to it with his left hand. It was awkward being backward, but he only used the pneuma-pistol when he was out of bullets anyway.

Someone must have heard him fumbling about because the door creaked open, and candlelight flooded the room.

He looked up to see the older nurse giving him a death glare. “You should be resting.”

“I should,” he agreed, as he finished tightening the holster. Last came his hat, which looked to have seen better days. He tsked and reshaped it as best he could. “Thank Doc Hawthorne for me. And for not pumping me full of sedatives. I couldn’t afford to be impaired if an attack happened.”

The woman gave a quiet huff of annoyance. “He said you would probably leave as soon as you woke up. Said to give you this for the pain.” She handed him three small way paper packets. “Poppy powder. If you don’t end up using it, bring it back, we’re low on supplies as it is.”

John handed it back to her right away. “Keep it. I’m fine.”

She didn’t argue, she simply took the packages and tucked them back in her apron. “I told Ezekiel you would say that. If you’re leaving, be quick and quiet about it. We have other patients who are trying to sleep. If you disturb them, I’m going to make you wish that broken arm was all you suffered.”

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

The nurse stepped aside. John nodded and walked out the door.

Once outside, the muted sounds of fighting he heard from inside the building became much clearer. The Harc’otti hadn’t given up their attacks.

John made his way to the closest sounds of battle.

Once he arrived, he saw things well in hand. The people of Ember Creek had learned from the previous night and done a lot more to prepare. The fire pits were larger, and he could see the reflected glint off of sharp metal shards driven into the dirt between the fires in the darkest areas. Already a few dead bodies lay among those spikes.

He saw a shadow rising in the darkness and pulled out his pistol and fired. The form disappeared into the inky black, and the arrow they had been preparing to fire at the defenders flew off.

One of the defenders jogged up to him. “Sheriff said to tell you he’s up on the Silken Riches’ roof if anyone spotted you. Said he needs to have a chat.”

John thanked the man and walked back into town. The people had things well in hand, he wouldn’t be needed tonight unless the entire Harc’otti army came pounding back into town. Considering the losses they took the first time, that wasn’t likely to happen.

When he arrived at the saloon, he found it to be a hive of activity. There were at least four people posted up on the roof with looking glasses or a scope. They watched the distant fires and if someone spotted something, they dropped a rock into a bucket at ground level. Then a young kid would race off in that direction to alert the defenders that something had been spotted.

He was impressed by the solution.

John wasn’t sure how he was going to get to the roof until someone called his name.

“John, bout time you arrived,” Travis waved.

“Travis. Where’s Seline?”

The man snorted. “After my niece got the hang of riding the ostrich, she’s been running patrols. You stuff that one-pounder with a load of pea-sized shot and it's quite effective at clearing the tree line when a larger group of those barbarians group up. Then she’s gone again before they can even react,” he laughed. “Follow me, Wyatt’s been waiting for you for a few hours.”

John followed the artificer inside the saloon. Even the interior was busy. It seemed to have been converted into a dining hall to serve people as they rotated off-duty. People were either eating or resting. He followed Travis up the stairs to the girl’s rooms, but the man passed them and opened a door that went up yet again. This one exited onto the roof of the building.

A few people standing around a table stopped to turn his way as they walked onto the roof.

“Glad you’re up and around,” Blackwood stated. “How’s the arm?”

“Another day, it’ll be good as new. What’s all this?”

“We needed someplace more centralized where I could issue orders. But I also wanted a better vantage point. Madam Cassandra here was kind enough to let us use her establishment.”

“John,” the woman smiled.

“Cassandra,” John nodded back with a slight smirk.

Even with the dim light provided by the lanterns, he could see the Sheriff roll his eyes. “I heard we have more company coming.”

The smirk slipped from John’s face. “Yeah. It looks like the man I told you about wasn’t happy waiting. I suspect his people are already making their way through the land east of us to scout out what's happening.”

“How much of an issue will they be?”

“More than the Harc’otti, that’s for sure. They won’t be attacking with stone spears and arrows. They will have guns, probably long rifles with scopes. Maybe even more of those steam suits if they originated from the man. I can’t even discount armored walkers in that case. The airship was too far away to get a good judge of its true size. If Vernon Hensley is as ruthless as I believe, he will have brought enough people and equipment to ensure nobody walks away from Ember Creek.”

The Sheriff grunted. “I think he’s going to find us a hard nut to crack, even if he brought all those toys to play with.”

“I agree,” John replied, earning a look of surprise from the people around him. “What? I’m not blind. I’ve seen what you all did while I was taking a nap. We are hardly helpless here. We have the small swivel cannon, that can easily punch through any armored walker, or knock it over now that we know their weaknesses. The rotaries will even the odds if the enemy tries to storm the town. Which they might try to do. And Travis has the new ostrich. It may only be one, but look at how effective a single one is.”

The man coughed beside him. “I actually finished two more while you were out.”

“Even better,” John chuckled. “Fuck the Harc’otti, and fuck Hensley and whatever plans he has for this area. I say we make him regret ever coming up with this plan of his.”

“Well said. Now we just need an actual plan.”

John shrugged and smiled. “I told you I was never good at overall strategy.”

“That you did,” Blackwood chuckled.

The man pulled out another map. “This map shows the terrain on the eastern side of Ember Creek. Unfortunately, it’s rather flat. It makes for good farming, but it doesn’t give us much in the way of defense. There’s no way to funnel Hensley’s people into an area.”

John looked at the map. “What are those?” he asked, seeing the X’s marked on the paper.

“Homesteads.”

“Any barns?” John asked, getting an inkling of a plan.

“A few, why?”

John gave a devilish smile. “Who else wants to learn to ride an ostrich?”