Page 171 of Dustwalker

All four bots followed Ronin. The gunfire’s volume increased drastically as they neared the reception area. Ramirez clung to McGowan, who had his hands clasped over the entry and exit wounds. Blood was smeared on the bot’s casing.

“We have more wounded incoming,” McGowan said when Ronin arrived.

Ronin indicated the bots who’d followed him. “They’re going to help. Coordinate with them.”

Leaving the medics to their work, Ronin moved forward, dipping into a crouch to remain behind cover. The barricade was riddled with bullet holes. He knelt beside Maul as another volley of gunfire hammered the barrier. Bits of plastic, wood, and metal fell over the soldiers.

“We’ve knocked out at least six of them,” Maul said, voice modulator turned up to overcome the cacophony, “but we count at least twenty more still in the fight.”

“Many of them are damaged. We just need to hold out. Do we have anyone monitoring our flanks?” Ronin swung the rifle from over his shoulder and took it into his hands.

“What should I have them watch? There are a hundred damned windows for hostiles to breach. They could get in from anywhere.”

The gearheads’ gunfire shifted focus to the upper floors. Ronin, Maul, and the others rose, peering over the barricade. Ronin’s optics identified numerous targets; he took several shots in quick succession. The soldiers around him also fired.

A gearhead stumbled out from behind a tree, one arm dangling limply at its side, its clothing and casing full of holes. Within half a second, a dozen more rounds perforated the bot, stilling it completely.

Movement farther back caught Ronin’s attention. He refocused, and for an instant, all his processes ceased. Even before the videos at the base, he’d been all too familiar with the unassuming, unremarkable face staring back at him. Though the skin over Warlord’s jaw had been replaced, there was still a scar on his cheek. It was longer and at asharper angle, and the sutures were spread further apart, but it wasn’t the scar that made Warlord.

It was the rage in his optics.

Ronin pivoted to aim, his damaged hip grinding. Warlord didn’t move as the dustwalker squeezed the trigger.

A massive bot stepped in front of Warlord. The bullet hit its broad, armored chest and ricocheted into the ground, leaving only a faint scratch on its olive-drab casing.

“The fuck is that?” someone asked.

“Compactor,” Ronin replied.

Comp loped forward, tearing up chunks of dirt and grass in its wake. More rounds bounced off its armored casing. The shots didn’t slow its momentum at all. Gearheads lined up behind it, using it as mobile cover for their advance.

“Time to break out the big guns, Sarge,” Ronin said.

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

Captain Cooper took charge, directing the crowd through their confusion. He sent a group of soldiers to escort the children, elders, and sickly to the forward camp, and then turned to the remaining people.

“The rest of you, with me.” The captain didn’t wait to see if they followed. He and his troops marched north, toward the market.

Most of the remaining humans followed.

A high, wailing sound echoed over Cheyenne. Lara had never heard the noise before, but her body reacted to it on a primitive level, her stomach sinking and her skin prickling with a sudden chill. Her mind flashed to the horrific scene outside Newton’s shelter, where she’d been helpless as she watched the gearheads shoot Ronin, pin him on the ground, and pull his power cell.

She turned her face toward the wall, chest constricting. Ronin was fighting those very bots now, and she felt the same helplessness because she didn’t know what was happening, because she wasn’t there to help him. Because he was so close to her and yet so far out of reach. Lara despised this feeling.

Please, please be safe.

“You were right,” Cooper said, jarring Lara from her thoughts.

She looked at him. “About what?”

His eyes were on the shacks, on the filth and waste piled around them. “We need to help these people. I can’t… Seeing them now, how they’ve suffered…” He shook his head and met her gaze. “How yousuffered. I understand your anger.”

Lara nodded. The captain and his people were helping, and that was more than she’d expected when she first met the base’s inhabitants.

The gate into the market was open, as it normally was, but the activity beyond was unusual for this time of day. The rising sun cast long shadows over everything, including the bots gathered amidst the stalls.

Several gearheads, touting guns, shoved through the mechanical crowd, hurrying toward the bot district. The hulking door guard from Kitty’s, Comp, trudged behind them.