Tarnished Chapter 39 (Patreon)

As John moved through the streets, he encountered very few warriors. The few he did only glanced his way before continuing deeper into the town. They were hell-bent on getting to the civilians. Considering their violent nature he was surprised the Harc’otti weren’t burning everything to the ground as they ransacked the buildings. Then again, having a fire at their backs probably wasn’t a good idea.

He was about to enter another street, but he heard the distinctive clomping of metal feet and ducked back into a dark recess of an alley as the armored form passed by. John risked a glance from his hiding spot and groaned quietly. Following the armored figure was a group of eight warriors. Two of which held rifles.

Figures they would protect their sharpshooters with those damn suits. This made his job infinitely harder.

John had a decision to make. He could easily dispatch this group of warriors using the weapons he stole, but the man in the metal suit would likely take him out with that steam rifle before he could finish the attack and flee the area. He could use his revolvers to ensure a quick victory even over the suit but it would risk giving away his position and he wasn’t ready to do that yet. There was a third option.

He gripped the spears he held tightly and rushed out of the alley. Before he took more than a few steps out, he checked the other direction finding it clear. Then he turned toward the group. One of the men must have heard him and was turning to see what the noise was, but John had already launched the first spear. By the time the man shouted a warning, the second spear was already on its way.

Neither man with the rifles had time to react as the crude weapons slammed into them. John only stuck around long enough to ensure his throws were accurate before dashing back into the alley.

The Harc’otti guards screamed as they gave chase. John could only smile. Another pair of warriors would probably pick up the guns, but his hope was they weren’t as familiar with them as the two he just killed.

An arrow whizzed dangerously past his head as he neared the end of the alley. Instead of looking back, he put on a bit of speed and turned a hard left when he exited. The second arrow skipped off the back of his skull, drawing a blazing trail of pain that almost made him stumble. He caught himself and kept going.

Since he threw his weapons away to take down the sharpshooters, he didn’t want to get caught in another melee. Especially now that he was bleeding from what felt like a pretty big gash on his scalp.

As soon as he was out of sight of his pursuers, he really threw on the speed. There was another alley three buildings down, if he could make it there before the warriors came out onto the street, he could make a clean getaway.

John was nearly there when he heard shouting behind him. He risked a look back this time and saw three warriors running after him. A fourth one had a bow up and quickly sent an arrow his way. He easily sidestepped the arrow since he knew it was coming and then ducked into this new alley.

Instead of running through the alley, John pressed himself against the wall and waited to conserve energy. Running that fast took a lot out of him.

It wasn’t long before he heard the hard breathing of his pursuers. John slid his knife out of its sheath and waited. As soon as the first man rounded the corner, he struck like lightning.

A swift jab to the man’s neck and he was down. John wrenched the weapon out of the dying man’s hand and used it to parry the second attacker's axe. John went to stab him as well, but the man blocked the blade with his forearm. Blocking the attack caused the man to lose track of John’s other hand.

He brought the axe up in a brutal uppercut, lodging the weapon in the man’s groin. He grabbed the screaming man by his wolf pelt top and yanked him into the path of an arrow. The angle was just right so John kicked the man into the archer and hopped back to avoid a spear thrust from the third man.

The spearman was skilled, keeping John from closing or grabbing the spear. He waited for an opportunity as he kept one eye on the archer who was fumbling under the body of his dead comrade. Eventually, the spearman thrust forward, instead of avoiding the attack, John stepped into it. The weapon slammed painfully against his chest before the wood shaft snapped with a loud crack.

John had put a lot of faith in his armor, but it had survived bullet impacts, so he was pretty certain it could take a stone spear without much issue. It hurt like hell, but it worked.

The warrior seeing his mistake, tried to backpedal and pull out a knife, but John was simply faster. He locked the man’s arm in a vice-like grip before smashing his forehead into the nose of the Harc’otti warrior. There was a crunch of breaking cartilage and the man went down in a heap.

It was just in time as the last warrior was currently scrambling for the bow he dropped. John reached down and drew the spearman’s knife and threw it.

The weapon wasn’t meant for throwing, so it tumbled awkwardly before smacking the archer with the handle instead of the blade. The impact made the archer flinch giving John enough time to cross the short distance and tackle him to the ground.

There was a quick tussle, but the man soon fell still and John pulled his bloody knife out from under the corpse. He looked around for any more attackers but no more people were chasing him. The last two must have grabbed the guns and continued following the armored form.

John wiped the blood from his mouth, spitting some out before grabbing the bow, some arrows, and the only good axe left. Then he legged it down the alley.

When he exited this time, he didn’t see the shooters or the armor. They must have hurried off to some other area after the attack. That wasn’t ideal. John wanted one of those pneuma rifles. It would make hunting the Harc’otti much easier.

He dashed across the street, and checked the next side street, finding it empty before moving to the next. This is where he found his quarry again. John quickly ducked back behind the wall as a bullet tore into the wood near the corner.

The bastards had set up an ambush for him. From the quick peek, he saw the two riflemen were perched up behind some water troughs for cover, and in the center of the street stood the bronze abomination.

There was no way he would be able to get to them. They had chosen their location well. There were no alleys that he could use to get closer. This road had wall-to-wall buildings down the entire length until the next road cut across it, much further down.

John could circle around, but it wouldn’t do him any good. By the time he did, they would have either moved or would be keeping an eye on the other intersection. There was also the increased sounds of fighting in the east. The sounds of the fighting were occasionally punctuated by a whomp or a loud whistling. That meant the walker was engaged in combat along with at least one of the rotaries. He needed to pick up the pace if he wanted to eliminate all the shooters.

He looked around for an advantage before spotting the bell tower. The building wasn’t situated in the greatest position, but it should give him the vantage point he needed to take out at least one of the gunmen. John hurried back to the alley where he had killed off the guards, before rushing farther down that street.

The door to the small church had been busted in. John jumped over the remains of the door and sprinted for the back of the building before practically throwing himself up the ladder toward the tower. Once he threw the roof hatch open, he moved much slower, easing himself into position as he nocked an arrow.

It had been a long time since John had fired a bow. It had probably been the winter before he got conscripted when he was hunting for deer.

He eased his head over the lip of the wall, quickly spotting his quarry. They were still in the same spot, but the man he could see was now facing the other direction. He was also more tucked away, making it a difficult shot, but John didn’t have much of a choice. The other man was hidden by the roof of the building he was hiding under, and the armored man was angled sideways to take quick advantage of whichever way John came.

Seeing as nobody was looking his way, he stood and drew the bowstring back, pulling on his memories of hunting to hopefully make his aim true. The string touched the side of his nose and he adjusted his aim to adjust for the distance. It was a long shot for a bow, but he had seen the Harc’otti shoot them, so he knew the weapons were capable of making the shot.

John took one final breath, before holding it. He released the string and released the breath he held.

The bow twanged, sending the arrow fishtailing through the air. He watched as it descended and then clipped the top of the wooden trough before slamming into the unlucky warrior. The man pitched forward but John could see the arrow hadn’t gone very deep.

It wasn’t his best shot, but a wounded target was better than an uninjured one. He quickly drew another arrow as the metal titan ran over to protect his friend. John didn’t concern himself with that man though, he watched for the other shooter. Soon enough the second man inched his way out to try and locate him.

It was too bad John already knew where he was, and the man had to take time to find him. He released his second arrow as the man was bringing his gun up. The arrow cleanly passed through the man’s ribcage.

The man got a shot off, but he stumbled as he fired and the shot went wide.

Seeing both his friends taken down, the man in the tin can fired off his steam rifle. But those things had a very short range and John didn’t even feel the heat from the church. To piss him off even more, John fired a third arrow at the first man who was just injured.

He was hoping to provoke a reaction and he did. The armored form scooped up the first shooter and rushed down the street without grabbing or destroying the other rifle. John smiled and climbed down the ladder to retrieve his prize.