Chapter Forty-Six - Counting

I don’t know which god-cursed hole Caroline found her Sally’s guns in, but I wasn’t going to complain. My mechanic friend’s aim was awful, but there was something to say about sheer volume of fire making up for poor aim.

A wall of red lines screeched through the air, starting off to the right of the alley the goblins had slipped out of.

The little bastards screamed, more of them turning to fire in Caroline’s direction while she tore an entire corner of a warehouse apart.

Then her gun started to sweep across the goblins.

Some of the smarter or quicker goblins dove behind a cargo container. It didn’t do them much good as the chaingun rounds first dented, then blasted through the metal container, spraying any behind it with bits of spalling.

I snapped out of it and ran for cover behind the core building while the goblins were preoccupied. The constant, screaming roar of Caroline’s gun continued, and when I glanced from behind cover, it was to see the stream of bullets sweeping over to the goblin mech.

The mech’s pilot was pretty smart, for a goblin.

It ducked down onto one knee, dropped one of its large revolvers, and raised an empty boxcart up before it.

The chaingun ate into the wagon, sparks and pieces of metal flicking off of it as it ate through, and some rounds rammed into the mech’s shoulders and the top of its head. Glancing shots that tore off rusty metal spikes, sending them careening through the air.

Then the chaingun’s roar turned into a repetitive clicking.

I glanced over, took in the empty chain of rounds dangling under the gun and the red-hot barrel, and put two and two together.

“Shit,” I said.

The goblins that hadn’t died stuck their heads out, then almost as one they opened fire in Caroline’s direction.

Looking back to make sure I wasn’t going to be shanked from behind, I dropped to one knee, slid the last round I had in hand into my rifle’s gate, then took aim.

Two shots, in quick succession.

A pair of goblins went down, and a few noticed the fire coming at them from a whole new direction.

Then Clin’s shotgun roared and the goblins ducked as a spray of greenish pellets zipped through the air above them.

I slid back behind the core storage room and took a moment to just breathe.

Caroline was going to fight that mech. It was inevitable, and even as I thought it, the ground shook. The train wagon being dropped?

I sighed. Caroline was sweet, but a pilot she was not, and even if I’d only had a glimpse of the goblin mech, I had a feeling the pilot was about as competent as a goblin pilot could be.

That didn’t take into account the goblins likely to try and swarm Caroline on foot. She didn’t have the skill to deal with either, let alone both at the same time.

I looked up at the roof of the core storage. It was only a foot or so taller than I was. With a little hop, I set my rifle above it, just the edge of the stock sticking out.

I wouldn’t be needing it.

Reaching to my belt, I pulled out a knife, and palmed a quickloader in the same hand. Then I slid my revolver out of its sheath and thumbed back the hammer.

“This is going to suck,” I swore.

Where was Shane and his big mech? He could have likely handled this well enough.

Then again, if he wasn’t here, there might be a good reason for it.

I peeked around the corner, taking in the number of goblins at a glance. There were... more than I expected. Had more arrived already?

What the hell were the people defending the rest of the town doing? Or had they broken and run already? That didn’t feel likely, there was nowhere to run to. I tightened my grip on my revolver and slid my finger into the guard.

Clin’s shotgun boomed, a distinct sound, now that I was listening for it.

I spun around, jumping out of cover.

The first thing I noticed was the club already swinging my way.

I cursed and brought my forearm up, just in time to block the blow. Not that it had much momentum to it.

A glance down revealed that little goblin, the one that had been trying to break into the core room with a rock. He screeched at me.

I pointed my revolver down and fired, point-blank.

One.

I grabbed the goblin’s body by the front of its ratty shirt, lifting it up before me. It was hard, with a knife and quickloader still in hand, but I managed.

A pair of goblins near the rear of the pack, two scrawnier, more cowardly sorts, ran out of cover and towards me with rusty kitchen knives in hand.

Two and three.

I sidestepped the falling bodies and held up the little goblin before me as one of his more alive compatriots spun around and fired. A single-shot shotgun, sawed off.

I winced as I felt the super-hot magical gasses from the gun wash over me, and a few pellets dug into my arm, with prickling little impacts. Not enough to break through the tough leather of my coat, but enough to sting like a scorpion whose nest was stepped on.

I walked past the goblin while it worked to load more birdshot.

The goblin never even looked up as I fired into him from a pace away.

Four.

A goblin ran out from around a pile of lumber, rifle in hand.

I flung my makeshift shield at him, then, when he stumbled back under the weight of the corpse, I put two rounds into him.

Five and six.

I spun and ducked behind the lumber, revolver already sliding open and cylinder emptying hot brass onto the sandy ground. I tucked my loader in, released, and closed the gun again. A dozen hours of practice paid off.

The mech was still there, as well as a few goblins. A glance up towards where I’d left Clin revealed a building in bad need of repair. The goblins had let loose on our vantage point. I just hoped Clin was wise enough to leave before they opened up.

I put that aside. The mech came first. Which meant I had to take out a mech, defended by half a dozen goblins, with a revolver and a knife.

I licked my lips and pushed myself high up against the lumber. I’d peek out, see what the situation was like, then figure something out.

The pitter-patter of goblin feet running my way interrupted my plan.

My arm shot out, elbow extending. My knife, still held like an icepick, rammed into the neck of the goblin running around the corner.

Its body folded in half at the impact, and it gurgled even as its hands scrambled at its throat.

I tugged my knife free and winced at all the blood on my hands and the sleeve of my coat. Goblin blood stained.

“Ass,” I swore to the goblin on the ground.

Then I noticed the sling on its back, meant to hold explosive sticks.

That... wasn’t great.

No goblins near the core storage that I could see though. Maybe that one goblin earlier was the only one with explosives.

That gave me an idea.

I peeked at the mech and took it in properly.

It wasn’t entirely a goblin mech. Not based on a gnomish design though. Human, if I had to guess. A patrol mech? It seemed fairly nimble, despite the metal plates welded on and the fact that its pilot was a goblin.

Putting that aside, I started looking on the ground until I spotted what I was looking for. There were two goblins, both within a pace of it, but neither had seemed to notice my new goal.

A cannon barked, and the warehouse where Caroline was hiding exploded, at least the back of it did.

Caroline returned fire, an explosion bursting over a pile of stone some ways away.

Little bits of rock rained down from above.

I took that as my moment to go.

My boots dug into gravel and sand, kicking some up as I took off at a dead sprint. I extended my arm ahead, barrel straight and one eye closed to line up my sight better.

One.

The goblin on the right fell.

Two.

I swore, re-aimed even as the second goblin turned.

Three.

I stopped running, feet sliding across the ground before my knees crashed down and I slid the last half-pace. I planted my knife into the ground and picked up my prize.

The explosive stick had all of a handspan worth of fuse left sticking out of it.

Enough for what I wanted.

Caroline fired again, and the lumber I’d been hidden behind exploded.

The goblin mech shifted, its gun cracking open and a shell as long as my forearm falling out. A small goblin grabbed a fresh round from a case by its hip and jumped onto the gun with it before slamming the round in.

Ahead, Caroline was out in the open, and stumbling away even as her free hand waved this way and that to dislodge a goblin smacking Sally with a wrench.

I tossed the explosive, an easy arc that travelled the dozen and a half meters between me and the mech.

I aimed.

Four.

I blinked sweat from my eyes.

Five.

I cursed, too late.

Then the explosive thumped on the mech’s head, bounced, and landed in its shoulder. It was rolling.

I held my gun out with both hands.

Six, I thought, as I pulled the trigger.

***