Tarnished Chapter 40 (Patreon)

By the time John arrived, the armored form and the injured warrior were long gone. He jogged over and retrieved the fallen rifle from the dead Harc’otti.

He was hoping the injured man had left his weapon as well, but he hadn’t. John checked the charge pressure on the weapon. The little gauge read nearly full.

Good, that meant he would have plenty of shots remaining.

He quickly stripped the man of any extra ammo or weapons and started running toward the waterfront. The sounds of battle had become far more intense with every passing minute, and he heard the occasional crack as someone fired off his rifle.

John was forced to slow as he neared the river. The area was chaos as Harc’otti scrambled for any cover they could find as the rotary across the bridge sent a hail of bullets flying their way. He quickly peeked his head out, scanning the attackers for anyone with a rifle.

It took him time to find one. When he did, he propped the barrel of his rifle against the side of the building he was hiding behind and took aim.

Nobody on this side of the river knew he was here, but a round whizzed past his face from the opposite side. He needed to hurry before more defenders mistook him for a Harc’otti. Another withering hail of fire crossed the bridge, sending the shooter ducking behind his cover. John fired.

The sound of combat drowned out the man’s death as he slumped back against the wall. Someone would notice eventually and pick up the rifle, but that was fine.

Seeing no other rifles on this section, he waited for the next round of fire from the rotary before sprinting across the street.

Two bullets impacted the street near him, kicking up dust while a third clipped the back of his arm. This would be much easier if he didn’t need to avoid friendly fire as well.

As he ran, John pulled out a bandana and tied it around the wound to stem the bleeding. While painful, his arm had slowed the bullet enough for his armored vest to keep it from entering his lung.

As he was making his way over to the next bridge, he ran into a group of warriors trying to reposition. There was a moment of hesitation when the warriors initially spotted him, but John saw realization quickly dawn in their eyes. John didn’t hesitate though.

He dropped the rifle and sprinted into the group. There was a quick but violent back and forth before John emerged victorious, sporting numerous cuts. Since he couldn’t waste the limited shots he had for the rifle, he had been forced to deal with them up close and personal. He also had to be quick so they couldn’t alert any others. But quick and up close necessitated him taking risks he normally wouldn’t in melee combat.

Seeing no more warriors, John snatched up a spear and axe before running back to grab the gun. Then he ran down the street as fast as possible. From the sounds of it, the tempo of the battle had changed. And it didn’t sound like it was in the town’s favor.

The next bridge was at an angle as it sat where the river came to a bend. John simply climbed up a building that would give him a view of the crossing. He peeked his head over the side to see if anyone was up there, but the roof was clear. Once on top, he scanned the other roofs along the waterfront.

He spotted at least a dozen warriors firing bows. And on three buildings he spotted his targets.

There was no way John’s rifle had enough shots to take them all out, but he would start with the riflemen and clear each roof one by one until the weapon ran out.

He waited for the first rifleman to pop up and take a shot before putting a bullet in the back of his skull. Ideally, they would drop the weapon over the edge of the roof, but that didn’t happen. His target dropped dead on the roof and one of the archers quickly picked up the rifle and continued firing.

It was pretty much exactly what he figured would happen, but as long as he removed the ones skilled in the use of the weapons, it would help.

He did the same for the other two before going back to the first roof and picking off the archers and the guy who grabbed the rifle. It wasn’t until only three attackers remained on that roof that someone realized the shots were coming from behind them.

John shot the man as he pointed toward him. The other two scrambled for cover, but John had a better angle to see them. The next man went down. The last man seeing no other way out, jumped from the roof to try and save himself.

He succeeded as John was still reloading. The fall wouldn’t kill the man, unfortunately. That meant his time was limited here. He moved to the next roof and started firing again. This time someone noticed much earlier, but John had an answer for that. He whipped out his revolver and shot the last four on the roof before clearing out the remaining group on the third roof who were now looking around.

John dumped the empty cylinders on his revolvers before quickly reloading them and stuffing the guns back in his holsters. He grabbed the nearly empty rifle and hopped off the roof, catching the edge with his free hand before dropping the rest of the way and sprinting off in a new direction.

He didn’t make it far before there was a loud crash from the building he had just vacated. John risked a look back, finding the roof he had been on only moments ago was nothing more than shredded wood.

“What the hell?”

As far as he knew, the Harc’otti didn’t have any weapon capable of doing that. Had the walker fired its six-pounder at him?

No, that didn’t make sense. He hadn’t even seen the automaton at either bridge. It was likely tied up elsewhere dealing with the armored suits. Speaking of though, he had seen one of the suits by this bridge. It was likely the same one he encountered earlier. It wouldn’t take much to shove a projectile down those steam rifle barrels and turn them into an improvised cannon. Although it would be a rather light cannon.

Another impact tore into the building, shattering even more of the roof and causing the structure to groan ominously before collapsing. Well, that settled it. The Harc’otti had learned how to turn their steam rifles into cannons.

John didn’t stick around any longer to find out what they would do. He made his way north, avoiding any more patrols as he tried to find a way to cross without getting seen.

On his way, he came upon a crumpled form stuck in the wall of a building. The cannonball was still embedded in the suit's armor and a red pool had soaked into the ground around it. Yet somehow the damn thing was still puffing steam out the top.

He backed away from the damaged suit, worried it might explode when he got an idea. John smiled and looked around, finding a good spot to post up. He got as close to the robot as he dared before firing off three shots from his revolver. He quickly reloaded the spent ammo before running inside the nearby building.

Not long after a group of nearly forty Harc’otti poured onto the street from all directions. They had to have been looking for him to respond so quickly. John waited for them to get close to the damaged armor before he fired the last shot on the Pneuma rifle.

The round pinged off the back of the armor, causing the whole group to turn toward the suit. The automaton must have been near critical pressure because his shot to the things relief pipe caused it to explode in a cloud of steam only a second later. The superheated vapor rolled over the entire group of warriors. The ones unlucky enough to die instantly opened their mouths to scream only for those screams to turn into choked gurgles as they inhaled the deadly hot gas.

He didn’t stick around to see the aftermath of his trap. Even if these men somehow survived, they were out of the fight.

John continued north, eventually ditching his disguise and washing the blood off his face and out of his hair as he passed a trough. There were certainly fewer enemies toward the edge of town, but there were still some.

He picked off a few smaller groups as he moved, but he could already hear the tone of battle shifting again. It sounded like the Harc’otti were being slowly driven back from the bridges.

Wanting to see what was going on, John climbed up on another roof. This one was much closer to the water and provided a clear view of where the fighting was the most brutal.

The first bridge had three broken suits on it and warriors were engaged in melee with the townsfolk. Despite the improvised weapons such as pitchforks and other such implements, the Townsfolk were holding the warriors at bay.

John noted not everything had gone their way though. The walker lay crumpled against a partially collapsed building, but Deputy Seline and Sheriff Blackwood were still on the contraption reloading and firing the guns across the bridge. He couldn’t see the artificer, but he hoped the crazy bastard had survived.

The other bridge had either collapsed during the fighting or been destroyed. John saw another two armored suits lying in the remains of that bridge, partially submerged by the shallow water. There were far too many bodies of citizens among that wreckage.

Seeing that the battle only needed a small push to shift, John pulled out his revolvers and started unloading them into the tightly packed warriors. He hardly needed to aim as it was impossible to miss even at this distance.

Having their brethren cut down, with no way to fight back, the barbarians finally broke. It was not an orderly retreat, and the unfortunate ones stuck at the front were crushed underfoot as the citizens surged forward when they saw the enemy fleeing.

The people were out for blood, and John was sure they would have chased them all the way to the woods if Blackwood hadn’t used the steam release lever on the walker to produce an ear-splitting whistle that got all the townsfolk's attention.

The battle was over and the Harc’otti had lost. They were now fleeing back into the woods with their tails tucked between their legs. John watched and waited for the majority to clear out before he hopped down from the roof and made his way over to the bridge.