Firstborn of the Frontier

Twenty-four hours.

Not a long stretch of time by most measures, and a week ago, Sarah Jay would’ve said the same. Ask her today though, and she knew enough to say it was all a matter of perspective. A day to spend with her man before separating for week? Far too short a time, because the hours flew by whenever she looked into his eyes. A full day and night’s ride to avoid camping outside of town? Wouldn’t be pleasant, but bearable so long as she had a day or two to rest after the fact. A twenty-four-hour all-out Aberration attack?

Might well be the next best thing to eternity.

Started yesterday afternoon with them eager, untested Abby assaulting the walls, followed up a few hours later by a night-time raid which cost them five gatlings guns and Lord knows how many lives. Luckily the Ranger Strike Team got to the main gates in time to support the beleaguered defenders, because if those gobbo commandos had taken down the gates, then the horde might well have overrun Pleasant Dunes within the hour. That was a real close shave, closer than she’d have liked, and it boggled the mind to think that it’d happened less than a day ago. The scene itself was still fresh in memory, as was the image of the mangled gunners who’d been posted inside when Abby came a knocking, and Sarah Jay suspected she couldn’t forget it even if she tried. All she’d caught was a brief glimpse from over Howie’s shoulder, a small peek at the gore-riddled scene full of blood, guts, and scrap metal, that’s all she got, and it was enough to fuel her nightmares for the next few years, nightmares of greenies which made the terrors of her past seem so trivial in comparison.

Was a world apart from seeing a man killed by a blown up gat, because even though that’d been horrific to see, Abby left just enough to recognize the remains of humans, but nowhere near enough to identify who they’d been.

Yea, perspective was a might powerful thing, one that made all her previous terrors almost seem tame in comparison. The wild, unkempt man her daddy killed at their table, the tense, strained discussions with strangers over the campfire, the quiet minutes spent hiding in shadows while waiting for some danger to pass, none of it seemed all that frightening anymore, not after the last twenty-four hours. The scuffle in the streets of New Hope with Howie had all but resolved her fears of harpies, so she felt like a woman without fear now, one who was more tired than terrified and wanted the greenie horde dead just so she could catch a few winks of sleep.

To think, she’d wasted all that energy being scared in the years after her daddy’s death. Was a good stretch of time there when she’d spend hours after school wandering around Riverrun with Mary Ann and little Jimmy in tow, a hard burden to bear as a girl of fourteen. Couldn’t go home, because Oswald was there, and every little thing they did would send him into a rage. Didn’t matter what they did, because he was just looking for excuses to give them the back of his hand and take out his frustrations on them. That’s why Sarah Jay would bring her siblings around town, so they wouldn’t be underfoot for the few hours Oswald was sober, since he’d be drunk as a skunk by the time sun set and too sloshed to prove much of a threat.

Threat.

Ha.

Looking back on it now, Sarah Jay couldn’t understand why she’d ever been scared of Oswald. Sure, he was quick to raise a hand in violence, and looked right frightful whenever he went red-faced and wild-eyed in drunken fury. Next to the toughs walking around Pleasant Dunes though? They were a hard bunch who made Oswalda almost look cute, and he was downright cuddly compared to the Vanguard National thugs. Like Tank, the big man who’d shot her in the shin days before all this kicked off. He was cuffed to a cot and kept under guard, but he spent his days and night cussing them out and promising all sorts of pain and retribution once he was free and clear again. Was careful never to implicate Vanguard National in his threats, just said he had friends is all, spewed all sorts of vile filth about what he’d do to them.

Much like that foul-mouthed Jacob Junior, who earned himself a beatdown talking about Tina like that, and in front of Howie no less. Man went a bit overboard after the fact, but Sarah Jay understood why Howie did it, because some folks needed to learn that if you talked shit, then you was gonna get hit.

The other members of Vanguard National were just as bad, cussing and laughing while setting townies to scraping up what Abby left of the gunners stationed inside them bunkers. Them thugs didn’t show no care or respect for their fallen comrades after the fact, and they talked big like them poor, dead folks were at fault for getting got. Sarah Jay noticed none of the guards up on them walls had been wearing any patched leather vests, so for all their talk, Vanguard National didn’t walk the walk. Left all the hard work to the townies while keeping all the best guns for themselves, and blaming the guards for being lacking or the boots and Rangers for showing up too late. From the way they talked, you’d think this was a Federation town full of tax paying citizens who were owed their protection, instead of Independents who scorned a helping hand.

And they needed the protection, because as the night wore on and the Aberration attacks continued, Sarah Jay was starting to piece together why Howie thought it necessary to alert the Rangers, and why Captain Clay had responded so quickly.

Most Aberration attacks were little more than a raid, a lightning-quick strike to settle matters of victory and defeat. One and done, simple is as simple does, but when the first attack yesterday afternoon ended with a veritable army of Abby still watching from the dunes, Sarah Jay had sensed something amiss. That’s why she asked Howie point blank if there was more to come. He’d told them to count on it, and hinted that there was something here in Pleasant Dunes that’d attracted a Proggie’s attention, likely the inhabitants themselves. Still, she’d never heard of Abby laying prolonged siege to a town, not like this. A series of attacks over the course of days or weeks she could understand, but they wasn’t coming and going like you’d expect. They was camped out on them dunes in broad daylight as bold as can be, and raring to get themselves over the walls and into the town proper.

Made no sense, not for clever gobbos, orcs, and bugbears. Ferals were called as such because they were little better than animals, dumb, bestial brutes driven by instinct and little more. That’s why harpies were so easily baited by a single shooter standing in the streets, because once their scented blood, even Abby blood, then their instincts to kill kicked in and wouldn’t settle until they were gorged and sated. Much like the newborn greenies who’d taken part in the very first attack, the ones that didn’t know any better than Ferals. Them other greenies though, the more seasoned and cunning gobbos and their ilk? They were a cleverer sort, as shown by how they went for the big guns in the dead of night, instead of running rampant through the open town where so many people slept without shelter from the elements or Abby alike. That was more in line with what she expected from greenies, but their sheer persistence was staggering to say the least as they climbed over the bodies of the brethren in their repeated bids to take the town and claim whatever it was that their Proggie demanded of them.

Them greenies attacked three times during the night, and that was only the beginning. The morning sun offered no respite to the exhausted defenders of Pleasant Dunes, as the Abby horde came at them in shifts like a factory running round the clock for crunch time. The Sergeants had the boots fighting and resting in four-hour shifts, then switched to two-hour shifts once morning came, while the Rangers fought harder and rested less as the horde kept coming and coming. The greenies were a determined lot who kept coming no matter the odds arrayed against them. Not in one continuous wave, no that would be too easy. Far as she could tell, Abby would win outright if they did, but they’d pay dearly for it. The Ranger mortars and Recoilless Rifles had their measure now, and had taken a huge toll on the Abby numbers last night. Come morning, the greenies learned not to clump up together so much and attacked in loose lines instead, rendering the big guns less effective and leaving more work for the small arms like rifles and pistols.

Which was largely why Sarah Jay switched out her 3-Line for a Strelky. Range and accuracy didn’t matter as much when they were so close to walls, while the bigger magazine, higher rate of fire, and abundance of ready to use ammo clips made it the better option. Something Sergeant Dixon pointed out just this morning, round about eight hours ago when the sun had only just risen and Sarah Jay was busy loading clips and magazines for her 3-Line and Model 45 instead of catching some Z’s. Was no helping it, as both weapons were nonstandard Aetherarms, so the Rangers hadn’t seen fit to bring anything but loose ammo for them. “Get as much rest as you can, boot,” the gruff, salt-and-peppered Sergeant had said, sounding far more tired than she’d ever heard him as he held out a Strelky and pouch of ammo clips for her to take. “Every extra Entangle you sling is dozens more Abby dead, so you better off getting fifteen extra minutes of sleep than fussing about with your fancy 3-Line.”

Given her experiences in the countless skirmishes since, Sarah Jay was grateful for the advice. Wasn’t no need to resort to reloading her rifle one bullet at a time once her clips ran out, because all she had to do was call for ammo and someone would get a bag of fresh clips to her. Like Noora, who worked just as hard as any boot despite not holding a gun, or maybe even harder considering all the running about she’d done. Her courage and heroism counted for just as much as anyone else’s, though Sarah Jay admitted that the boots were far flashier. Like when big Ed drop kicked a bugbear off of the battlements only moments after it climbed up, or Antoni’s newfangled respect for the Grease Spell and Molotovs brought about by Howie’s example. Then there was Michael’s machine-like precision and target acquisition with the double barrelled Forzare he favoured in the fight. Only had two shots before he had to reload, but by God he made each one count, adjusting the spray pattern on the fly depending on if he was shooting at a gaggle of goblins or a handful of orcs and dropping bodies left and right.

There were five boots who stood out above all others though, and Sarah Jay was dispirited to not count herself among them. Especially as she plinked away at the green tide of Abby down below and caught sight of their latest antics out of the corner of her eye. Hard to miss seeing Alfred whenever he went, a burly giant of a man who stood only a little taller than herself at six-foot one, but with a barrel of a chest that made him seem so much bigger. Add in his glowing blue tower Shield that covered him from the neck down and he made for a most formidable sight as he ran across the battlements to lend a group of townies a hand as they were overrun by climbing orcs and bugbears.

A First Order Spell he could maintain for almost two hours a go, which was impressive considering the base Spell only lasted ten minutes and required Concentration to start with. That was a feat on par with Howie’s mastery of Mage Hands, meaning Alfred had been practicing the Spell for far longer than anyone realized. Made Sarah Jay glad to see him shake off little Dick’s influence and stick with the Rangers, unlike Gabe, Steve, and the rest of their ilk. The big, quiet giant had a new group of friends now, with Ike and Errol charging in right there alongside him, and Sarah Jay warmed to see her man in action. Errol didn’t do much to start with besides shoot his pistol and lay in with his chain, while Ike stole the limelight as he thrust out his hand and delivered a Pressure Wave out into the clumped-up orcs intent on tearing apart the townie defenders. Was a longer, narrower Blast focused on crowd control rather than damage as it sent any targets hit flying away, and Ike was practised enough with the Evocation Spell to keep it from hitting any friendlies. Made for a right impressive sight, them townies left unscathed as the orcs surrounding them were sent staggering back over the battlements which they just climbed up onto. A good number still remained, but Alfred shouldered right through them shield first to tackle a bugbear, while Errol laid into the rest with his chain, bringing it about in wide circles to splatter orc brains and buy time for the townies to pick their shots.

Was a neat bit of work that was, over in less than a minute once they had time and space to take out the bugbear. Sarah Jay’s man was really coming into his own here in Pleasant Dunes, and her chest filled with pride and affection as she watched him unsling his Whumper to loose five, thumping Blasts into the crowd of Abby below. Once that was empty, he went back to his chain, utilizing the Living Whip cantrip to fling climbers off the wall and bash a bugbear’s brains out as it clung stubbornly to the stone. Yea, he sure was a sight to behold, especially considering his work wasn’t done once the area was clear. Went from killing Abby to tending wounds in the blink of an eye, paying no mind to the fight while Alfred and Ike stood guard over him with Strelkies in hand.

Lord knows how many lives her man helped saved today, and her heart sang to see it, but even enamoured as she was of her heroic hunk of man chocolate, she had to admit he fell short compared to the last two standout boots.

There they were, two battlements over engaging in a storm of steel and Bolts unlike anything Sarah Jay had ever seen. Kacey was like a warrior out of antiquity with her twin swords and bow, but wasn’t no one laughing at her results. Didn’t have no giant glowing shield to hide behind, but that didn’t slow her none as she charged headlong into a thick pack of Abby who’d just finished slaughtering a group of townies. The slim, Nipponese girl fought without uttering a word and let her swords do the talking as they flashed about her in a dazzling display of speed and skill, cutting down everything in her path like a farmer cut through grass while dancing about her opponents’ clumsy attacks. A slash to the knee delivered a Booming Blade Cantrip, and a beat later, the orc’s leg exploded as it tried to chase after her, but Kacey was already slicing up another orc. A few moments later, Sarah Jay watched those blades erupt in blinding lightning to deliver a Shocking Grasp, one which set an orc to convulsing as Kacey’s follow through took another orc clean through the neck. The next two fared no better as her swords went criss cross and two greenie heads went flying, which was just enough time for the electrocuted orc to recover and watch those blades drive home into its chest.

Was like clockwork it was, as if every move had been meticulously planned out in advance, a benefit of the Gift of Alacrity Spell Kacey kept going most of the time. The First Order Divination Spell didn’t do nothing to speed up her movements or reflexes, only the rate at which she thought, which didn’t sound like much until you saw her make use of it. The extra time let her slow down, analyze the situation, and pick out the best course of action before moving forward, which made it seem like she had everything under control while her opponents danced in the palm of her hand. Was incredible to see this small slip of a girl charge headlong at a bugbear without blinking, but Kacey came out on top every single time without so much as ruining her hair.

Then there was Tina, who was even more impressive once you caught on to what she was doing. She didn’t fight next to Kacey, or even from behind, but rather positioned herself almost perpendicular to her partner, off to the side and a good ways back. Didn’t dive into the fight, but rather brought the fight back to her as Tina fired her dual 1911s and Model 45 into the pack and drew their attention away from Kacey. Was some magic at work there, one Sarah Jay couldn’t identify by sight, but had asked about earlier when they had some time. Unlike Howie, Tina had been happy to share, though she’d blushed a little when she admitted to using the Enhance Allure Cantrip to draw Abby aggression. Was a Cantrip meant for honey-trapping men by making them think you looked better than you did, one that didn’t change how you looked so much as what others saw when looking at them, like an optical illusion that had nothing to do with light and everything to do with brain signals.

And it worked wonders on Abby, but they wasn’t looking to chat her up or buy her a drink. No, they were out for blood in a way that made Sarah Jay think of the Third Order Spell Challenging Shout, except these Abby weren’t forced to attack her, only encouraged. Even now, it belied belief to watch how most of those greenies turned their backs to Kacey just to chase after Tina, who soon got herself stuck in a corner with her back to the battlements. Didn’t slow her down none, or even diminish the big smile stretched across her fetching features as she stepped up onto the crenelations and skipped merrily away before descending back down to the battlements with a bit of fancy footwork that made Howie look like he had two left feet. There she was, running, dancing, and twirling about in the chaos of battle while putting Bolts into skulls at a rapid-fire pace, staying ahead of the pack chasing her round in circles while Kacey cut them down one or two at a time.

The two girls couldn’t be any more different, but they came together in a way that just worked. Kacey fought with swords and moved like it too, always direct and to the point in every engagement, but Tina’s movements were something else. Like walking on clouds it was, floating on sunshine as she moved with a hop, a skip, and a step, all the while gunning her targets down point blank using her 1911’s and Model 45. Wasn’t using no Mirror Image to do it either, as she was using her Concentration to maintain a Bless Spell on Kacey, Alfred, and Ike, while Errol had his Heroism Spell going to keep him safe in the fight. As if that wasn’t enough, Tina could reload both her pistols with one hand a piece faster than Sarah Jay could reload the one, largely due to how she had her magazines neatly arranged in two bandoliers sitting snug on her hips, ones that held twelve magazines each in two staggered rows for easy access.

Yea, the five of them were the stars of the show, at least insofar as Sarah Jay was concerned, and she learned a lot about the type of Spellslinger she herself wanted to be. The other shift didn’t have as many stand out talents, while she herself was pretty much just another shooter in this here fight. Had to pick and choose her moments to use Entangling Growth, as she suspected she could only squeeze out another two or three at most. Lack of uninterrupted sleep was doing her a disservice, as she wasn’t used to sleeping with Aetherarms cracking off only a few dozen metres away. Made it hard to get good, meaningful rest, which you needed to recover from Spellslinging, and was likely why the Abby horde was coming at them in waves instead one concentrated attack. Wanted them tired and spent they did, a relentless and remorseless foe who was dead set on running them ragged before coming in for the kill.

And as the day wore on, the successive waves got tougher and smarter to boot. No longer did all the greenies come at them naked as the day they were born, with a good number carrying weapons and armour that made them look that much more fearsome for being made of hardened bone. Bird skull helmets were a big favourite, likely taken from the same animals she’d seen pulling them scav wagons out in the desert, with the beaks still intact to act as a hard visor to headbutt with. Sharpened bone knives were another common sight, only not with a hilt like something a person would use. Instead, them greenies would flatten the bases, then wrap cloth or ropes around it to tie the weapon to their fists. Ribcage chest plates, thighbone clubs, jawbone masts, and more, the sheer grotesque creativity was a sight to behold, and their savage cunning at work even worse.

Was one thing to say, “Aim for the armoured ones.” Was another altogether to put it into practice when they showed up while you was already busy fending off their naked brethren. They’d run up as bold as can be and lob Bolts, Blasts, Elemental Orbs, and other Spells without any regards for friendly fire. Even more dangerous were the mundane projectiles they hurled, sharpened stakes and bones honed to an edge or just plain old rocks, which sounded laughable until you saw someone take a hit. Took a toll on the townies it did, none of whom were wearing Vanguard National patches even now, and there were eight boots out of commission already. At least two owed their lives to Errol, who showed up in time to staunch their bleeding wounds and carry them back to the medical tents, and it was a miracle none of them had died just yet.

Or maybe not a miracle, since the Sergeants were keeping close watch over them all and expending precious Spells whenever it looked like things were getting rough. Like when Saheed and Antoni’s squad had gotten hit by a Colour Spray, an Illusion Spell that blinds and dazzles the targets caught in its cone of effect. Sergeant Dixon came up clutch then and there, leaping over ten metres across from the battlement beside them to land amidst the Abby crowd, whom he sent packing by laying in with his bayonet. The Jump Spell at work there, and probably Elemental Strike too, as he single-handedly cleared the battlements and held it clear long enough for the blinded boots to recover. Was cool as a cucumber the whole time, bellowing orders to keep Saheed from running off or Antoni from fighting blind and hitting one of his teammates while giving Abby the boot both figuratively and literally.

All the while, the actual Rangers were running about patching holes up in the defenses. The boots didn’t see them much because they were capable of holding the northern wall for the most part, but every time Sarah Jay found a chance to look to the West or South, she found a sorry sight waiting for her indeed. The townies weren’t trained for this, nor did they have the equipment needed to hold out against a prolonged attack. The gatlings had long since gone quiet all across town, their barrels melted into slag with no replacements to get the guns working again. The fact that the town had enough to replace the barrels five or six times a piece was already more than anyone could’ve expected, because at twenty guns and ten barrels a piece, that was over a thousand barrels in total and no small expense for an Independent outfit like Pleasant Dunes.

Sadly, this meant the townies were left with single-shot rolling block rifles, six-shooter single Core revolvers, and harsh language to hold back the Abby tides, and they paid dearly for it. The Rangers couldn’t be everywhere at once, and Lieutenant Wayne had them working in two shifts same as the boots, meaning there were only ten Rangers up and about at any given time. Split between the western and southern walls for the most part, and running ragged for it, so it was a damn good thing the boots and sergeants were able to hold the northern wall by themselves. Course, it helped knowing the other ten remaining Rangers were resting only a few dozen metres away and ready to kick it into high gear should the boots ever falter.

With a few notable absences that made Sarah Jay’s heart heavy to dwell upon, but she tried not to let it affect her too much. As the latest Abby attack died down and the call went out to switch shifts, she hobbled on back to camp with Nora’s help and tried not to be too obvious as she looked around for any sign of Howie, only to come up short once more. He’d been here all night, though forced to sit out of the fights, and she assumed it was a sort of punishment for assaulting a civilian. Wouldn’t be much of a punishment for anyone else, but Sarah Jay had seen the look in his eyes every time Tina set out without him, and knew it was killing him inside to not be there beside her. What a sight that would’ve been, Howie working with the others to take on the Abby horde, and while Tina did her best to keep the mood bright and spirits cheery, her brand of wholesome encouragement just wasn’t the same as Howie’s special brand of bleak humour and heartfelt encouragement.

Of which he gave plenty, alongside actual support since he wasn’t out shooting or slinging, right up until he disappeared sometime this morning alongside Sergeant Begaye and all three Ranger Captains. Doing whatever it was that brought them all here to Pleasant Dunes in the first place, Sarah Jay assumed, and she wished them well. Burned with jealousy to know she was here struggling in the middle of the pack while the Firstborn was off with three Captains and a Sergeant doing Lord knows what. Something dangerous no doubt, because one Ranger Captain was a walking weapon with enough Third Order Spells to singlehandedly devastate your average town. Short of taking on a Proggie nest, she couldn’t think of anything that needed that much magical muscle to take down, not even –

…

Fuck! That was the answer, it had to be. Howie tried to be coy about it, just mentioned it in passing the last time they sat down and talked. She thought he meant Abby was here collecting biomass for their Proggie, and while that still remained true, there were easier ways to feed their Proggie without full-on assaulting a fortified town. The goal wasn’t just the food and people, those Abby out there wanted the town itself, a nice, secure nest out on the desert proper and away from other established Proggies, somewhere it could really stretch its tendrils and direct bands of armoured greenies right into the Emerald Plains or Wayfarer Forest without letting them get distracted along the way.

This wasn’t a raid. It was a conquest, a land grab for expansion, one that would see the first Proggie out of the mountains and into the desert proper. If they allowed it to happen, then the next Proggie would come soon after, hopscotching their way west along the desert and closer to the Bulwark defending the rest of this here stretch of Frontier. Might not seem like much at first glance, but it would elevate the gobbos from a mountain nuisance to a full-blown threat to the Emerald Plains and Wayfarer Forest, same as the Feral bugs of the Divide, and greenies were a whole lot more cunning and coordinated than Ferals could ever be.

No wonder Howie wasn’t willing to risk saying it outright. Everyone thought this was an Abby raid, herself included, albeit one more persistent than most. So long as they held out and put up a fight, they’d send them greenies running for the hills, because Abby were violent, not suicidal. Now that she knew a Proggie was involved, that changed the stakes entirely. It wasn’t a matter of holding out for victory anymore, because the only victory to be had was total and complete annihilation of the Aberration threat. This was do-or-die now, victory or death for everyone here in Pleasant Dunes, because the horde out on them dunes had a job to do, and their Proggie boss would sooner lose them all than accept failure as a result.

Made things clear as day it did, the staging grounds a day out of Meadowbrook and Howie’s insistence on making their fallback point his wagon, rather than the camp itself. Because he knew what was coming, and what it would look like once the Proggie got close enough to order an all-out assault, an order issued with no small amount of compulsion to drive the Abby army into a mindless, Berserk rage. Once that happened, then all bets were off, and their best chance of survival was to run faster than the people beside them and hope their deaths would slow Abby long enough to get gone.

“What’s the matter?” Errol asked, slipping his arm over her shoulder as Sarah Jay sat frozen in thought, her speed loader out and bullets ready to pack into her magazines, but hands yet to move.

“Nothin’,” she replied, all too quickly and sharply, which meant he knew something was up for sure. She didn’t trust herself to say as much though, didn’t want to send anyone into a panic if she was wrong, so she put her head down and got to packing her mags right quick. Didn’t take more than a handful of minutes, and bless his heart, Errol sat with her the whole time, his eyes so full of love and concern but his head smart enough to leave her be.

“It's fine,” she said, more for her own benefit than his, and he raised an eyebrow in question. Too smart is what he was, could read her like an open book, which was part of why she loved him so much. After tucking all her magazines back into her pouch and putting a bandolier like Tina’s up at the top of her shopping list, Sarah Jay threw her arms around her man and sank into his embrace. “Everything’s fine,” she said again, and this time she believed it. Howie and the Rangers had things under control, because if three Captains, a Sergeant, and the Firstborn couldn’t handle it, then what chance did the rest of them have?

Despite the blistering heat of the desert, the evenings in Pleasant Dunes were surprisingly chilly, so when she shivered in her man’s embrace, she figured that’s all it was. Then the hairs on the back of her neck stood up and she let out a gasp before she even understood why. Unwilling to loosen her grip around Errol’s waist, she turned to look around camp and saw everyone else was up and about too, even the few who’d collapsed into their bedrolls as soon as they got back. Aside from turning their heads this way or that, there wasn’t anyone moving about, and the eerie silence of camp was compounded by the hush that fell over Pleasant Dunes as townies and greenies alike stopped in their tracks.

The wave of Aether hit her like a whiff of smelling salts, a sharp and intense sting that ripped away any sense of comfort or security. She wasn’t the only one who sucked in a gasp, and the camp came alive with movement as boots and Rangers alike winced and recoiled. Errol even let out a pained groan, and he wasn’t the only one as Alfred staggered in place as if struck and Saheed fell to his knees with an empty look in his eyes. All across camp and the town, Sarah Jay imagined similar scenes playing out, and though none of them knew what was happening just yet, they all felt it in their bones, knew what awaited them even if they couldn’t put it into words. “The wagon,” Sarah Jay whispered, turning to look Errol in the eyes and praying they’d both make it out of this alive. “Remember, stick close to the wagon.”

Still dazed and recovering from whatever it was that hit them, Errol meet her eyes with a furrowed brow, confused as to why she’d bring it up. Before he could give voice to his questions though, Cowie let loose with a terrifying bellow, a bone shaking roar of defiance if there ever was one. There was no magic to it, but the ferocity of the big, friendly bull’s contempt for Abby lit a fire in Sarah Jay’s chest, one that burned hot even as the Abby horde let loose with a chorus of guttural, incoherent howls in response and all but confirming her fears.

The Proggie was here, and the crazed horde would soon descend upon Pleasant Dunes in full force. Howie and the Ranger Captains had failed then, their attempt to take it out before it arrived unsuccessful and their fate unknown, leaving Sarah Jay here with the love of her life, and no earthly idea what to do next.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kill.

Slaughter.

Consume.

Demands made of Tina by the wave of Compulsion, and she had her 1911’s in hand before she even realized it. A lifetime of good habits paid off then and there though, because even amidst this wave of magical coercion, she managed to keep her fingers off the trigger and the safeties engaged. Had her thumb right up against them and ready to disengage, but she didn’t do it even though deep down she wanted to.

Which was almost as bad as succumbing to a Progenitor’s psychic cry, because Tina wasn’t no Aberration. She was human through and through, and only affected by the Compulsion because of how Aether and magic were an integral part of her life. It wasn’t about D.N.A or bloodlines, but her connection to the Immaterium, one that went beyond the Spell Structures embedded in her mind and defied any attempts to describe it. It was an intimacy with magic that went beyond knowing, an understanding inseparable from instinct, because Tina lived and breathed magic with every fibre of her being.

And it was magic being made here, not some methodical, standardized Spell at work, but full-blown wild magic with power enough to warp the very world around her and make her sick to her stomach. Not because she was an Innate. There were others in camp who felt the same, though on differing levels. Out of all the boots, Saheed was the most sensitive, while Errol was a close second, though Howie was probably physically reeling from the aftereffects, because he was as close to the magic as anyone Tina had ever seen. Anyone besides Chrissy or Mr. Elten at least, but they were both too close, too invested in the magic to wholly separate themselves from it. Now wasn’t the time to commiserate though. Now was the time for action, so Tina checked her newly reloaded magazines and ran over to the armoury tent to grab another satchel of loose ammo, because things were about to get messy.

Sergeant Dixon got there before she did, the man in charge now that Captain Jung and Sergeant Begaye weren’t around. “Form up,” he shouted, and though the boots were tired and scared by what just took place, they all followed orders as bidden. “Take as much ammo as you can carry and fight with,” he said, glancing back at the northern wall and the sound of pounding footsteps coming from behind it. “Won’t be making any supply runs after this.”

“Could load up Howie’s wagon and bring it with us,” Tina said, inwardly wincing when she realized he would hardly approve. That was their getaway, and even Cowie couldn’t run full speed with a full load, but it was too late for regrets. Wasn’t like Howie was here either, so even though he warned her about what to expect, how was she supposed to count on him to get her out safe? No, that wasn’t fair, because this wasn’t on him. Tina had come out to learn how to be a Ranger, and this here would be the fire within which she’d be forged. That put some pep back in her step as she joined the line ferrying crates of ammo into the metal wagon, while poor Noora was forced out into the driver’s seat where all the kiccaws had gathered up to seek shelter. Smart little birds is what they were, knew good and well their best chance of survival was to stick close to Cowie, and they did it without so much as a squawk.

Hopefully they wouldn’t mind a bit of a bumpy ride. Poor things could use a Console Cantrip to help soothe their nerves, but there were just too many of them and not enough time to go through it all, so they’d have to manage with a few pats and coos.

To Tina’s surprise, the second team of boots had been called back to camp, as were the rest of the Rangers, all fifty plus of them gathered here instead of defending the walls. The townies were giving up on the walls too, though it far less orderly a fashion as Abby were already hot on their heels here inside of town. They came pouring in over the battlements in such a rush that the first bunch jumped right off the walls and broke their legs in the sand, but even that wasn’t enough to stop them as they set to crawling over. The next wave of Abby landing atop them put an end to their struggles though, and the howling survivors followed suit, only for more of their brethren to land atop them and kicking off a vicious cycle that was sickening to watch. There was barely any need to open fire just yet, as they was doing a good enough job of killing themselves aside from the few greenies who lucked out and found the stairs down instead.

More Abby continued to come over the walls, while still others were clawing straight through them. They weren’t a horde anymore, just a press of green flesh pushing forward to kill, slaughter, and consume, and if there weren’t any people around, then they’d just as soon turn on one another until their Berserk rage came to an end. Made them plenty stupid, but far tougher and scarier, and Tina watched as one such orc took a fistful of Bolts to the chest only to keep on coming until someone shot it clean through the head. That was their best bet moving forward, to aim for the brain and nothing else. The spine was a decent target too, but you’d have to sever it clean, while exploding their hearts only put a half-minute time limit on their lifespans moving forward, and they could do a whole lot of damage in thirty seconds.

And it showed, as them crazed Abby tore into a group of townies that’d been too slow to retreat, ripping them limb from limb not fifty metres away. The boots and Rangers put shots into the crowd, but them orcs kept ripping and tearing even after all the townies were dead, only for a few to topple over dead after the fact. Others fell but kept coming, dragging themselves forward with their arm or crawling forward on severed stumps, not caring about the pain or their imminent death so long as they had something to kill.

So Tina listened for orders and moved right quick alongside the Rangers and boots as they carried their portable defenses around the front of the saloon and down the middle of town. A formidable force of Spellslingers and Aetherarms to be sure, but nowhere near enough to take on so many greenies coming at them from all sides. That’s why they had to make for the rear gates right quick, and they urged the fleeing townies to run with them and head up the hills when the terrain made the fight a winnable one. Some listened, while others fell in line for lack of any other option, but most ran for the shelter of the buildings as if brick and mortar was enough to hold back the horde. Broke her heart to see it happen, but there wasn’t nothing she could do for them.

“Come with us!” Errol shouted, waving at the fleeing townies. “We can hold them off together!”

Weren’t many takers on his offers, and Sarah Jay had to hold him back to keep him from running off to shepherd more townies along. The man’s heart was in the right place, but his head was all sorts of mixed up, because the only way out was to pick up and go, and hope Abby stopped to pick through the stones long enough for them to get away. Howie said that anyone still in town would die defending it, and he wasn’t one to exaggerate, so Tina said a little prayer for the poor souls of Pleasant Dunes and hoped they’d bring enough out with them to make it matter.

“What are you doing? Why are we stopping?”

There wasn’t any fear in Sergeant Dixon’s questions, only a forceful demand for answers, but Wayne wasn’t having any of it as he directed his Company to dig in right there in the middle of town. “Orders are to defend the town,” he drawled, and he even had the cheek to give the Sergeant a wink. “So I figure that’s what I’m gonna do.”

Never one to back down, Sergeant Dixon got right up into Wayne’s face and growled. “Operation contingency plan says to abandon the town and head up into the mountains should the horde turn Berserk.”

“And as highest-ranking Officer present, I have the authority to change those plans as circumstances develop.” Weren’t no smiles from Wayne as he stared down the Sergeant, and they exchanged a quiet word while everyone looked on. Whatever they talked about, Sergeant Dixon came out on the losing end, which was a first. Looking around at the confused boots and terrified townies, Wayne’s fake smile came back in full force, a sleepy and casual smile that was looking real strained under the circumstances, as they ought to be. “Relax,” he said, gesturing at the buildings on either side of them, one of which was the Sherrif’s office Howie shot up the last time he was in town. “Got good reason for stopping here. These walls other either side? Reinforced with Darksteel. Any Abby going through them will be using doors and windows, making them easy targets.” Gesturing up towards the roof, he gave the Vanguard National thugs who were already up there a little casual wave and added, “We got heavy support on the high ground too. We’ll be fighting on two fronts instead of one, but we’ll save more people doing it.”

Tina wasn’t sure if the explanation was for them, or if Wayne was trying to convince himself this was the right move. Wasn’t anymore time for discussion though, so the Sergeants set them to digging in as best they could would corralling townies into the buildings on either side. Couldn’t fit everyone into the reinforced ones, and Tina could only hope Abby would be too fixated on the Rangers in front of them to go tearing up the buildings.

“You know how to use that thing?” Sergeant Dixon asked, and it took a moment for Tina to realize what he was talking about.

And when she did, she beamed bright as can be while throwing up a snappy salute. “Sir yes sir,” she said, before hopping up into the driver’s seat and giving a few kiccaws a pat. Gave Noora a smile too, but the girlie was tough as nails and ready to go down swinging with a knife in hand. Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that, but it might, so Tina paused and asked, “You know how to handle a pistol?”

“Only the one Sarah Jay has.” Shrugging, Noora replied, “I know how to reload it and make sure the safety is set.”

Handing over her new and pretty Model 10 on a whim, Tina unbuckled a bandolier full of mags and said, “Good enough. Point it at Abby, push the safety forward, and squeeze the trigger.” In that order preferably, but now wasn’t the time to be nitpicking. Leaving Noora to figure it out and hoping the girl would hit no friendlies, Tina’s grin returned in full force as she pulled up the Big Stick and found the hinges all nicely cleaned and recently oiled. Howie’s good habits coming in clutch there, as he was never one to shirk his chores, and obsessive enough to check in every few days to make sure there wasn’t any rust.

Truth was, Howie just loved his Big Stick something fierce, though it didn’t look much like any other gun she’d seen. Had a matte-black Darksteel barrel that was four feet long and thicker than her wrist, one bristling with all manner of tubes sticking out perpendicular to one another like X’s along the main shaft. The business end was capped with a strange, opaque sorta glass-looking plug that reminded Tina of a baby’s pacifier in shape. Was all white and cloud like it held a thick mist, but that was the magic that others couldn’t see, the roiling Aether sitting pretty even when the Core wasn’t Primed and ready to shoot, while the back end didn’t have a stock or trigger, but rather two handles to grip and an actuator to activate, ensuring only a Spellslinger could use the weapon rather than any random townie.

Was a right fearsome weapon it was, and Tina envied Howie for having it, because she’d only seen it shoot the once and he’d never let her use it. Now was her chance though, so once she had the big, bulky weapon pointed in the right direction, she loaded up the fist sized canister of Aether just in time to look up and spot the forerunners of the Abby horde came barrelling around the corner. Their flat, grotesque features were even uglier than normal, all twisted up in rage and unholy glee at the sight of so many Rangers, boots, and townies all dug in and ready to fight. They howled with glee to alert others of it, but they’d be singing a much different tune soon enough. Unfazed by the oncoming threat, she bobbed her head from side to side while listening to the Core sing as it Primed. The coursing Aether moving through the Metamagic Etchings made for a right haunting melody, and her palms tingled to feel it happen even though there wasn’t any actual physical sensation to feel.

“How much longer before you’re ready?” Sergeant Dixon barked, speaking over the sporadic gunfire taking down the oncoming forerunners.

“Good to go anytime, but might as well wait for more of a crowd,” Tina replied, wishing the streets were just a little longer and wider as she adjusted the cone of effect. Rangers loved them their big alpha strikes, and this Big Stick mounted up top of Howie’s Wagon was designed to deliver just that, but it deserved a real target for its opening shot. Especially since she only had a dozen shells total, because these big canisters didn’t come cheap. “Ring that dinner bell Sarge, and I’ll serve ‘em up a meal they won’t soon forget,” she added, sparing a grin for the surly, salt-and-peppered Sergeant, and to her surprise, he grinned back.

“You heard the little lady,” he hollered, and the boots and Rangers both responded with a chorus of cries while unleashing hell at the Abby stragglers. They came sprinting round the corner and down the street in groups of five to ten, and Tina watched and waited as their numbers grew until a veritable flood of greenies were coming at them hard and fast.

With a grin so wide it made her cheeks strain, Tina lined up her shot, willed the Actuator to activate, and opened her eyes nice and wide so as not to miss a single thing. The Big Stick let out a rumbling bellow to match Cowie’s best roar, and the built-in shock dampeners absorbed a good ninety percent of the recoil, but it was still enough to shake the steel wagon beneath her with a clang that set her kiccaws to chirping in protest. Wasn’t no complaints from the Rangers, boots, or townies though as the Big Stick unleashed a solid wave of force that billowed out the tip of the gun and rapidly spread to cover the full 12m width of the street once it was only a metre away. The wave hammered into the thick Abby lines sent them flying, every last one of them from here to the end of the street and beyond, a good 50m easily if not more. The Core in the Big Stick was the big brother to Ike’s Pressure Wave, the aptly named Banishing Wave that didn’t hit as hard as Fireball, but sure packed a punch all the same.

Especially once it was Intensified, Empowered, and Maximized for full effect, with a Concussive effect thrown in to really ruin someone’s day if they managed to survive the hit. None of the greenies on the street did though, which was a bit of a downer, because she was curious as to what an enraged and concussed Abby would look like. Nothing to do about it though, so she let out a little whoop and a cheer that got everyone cheering along too as she loaded up the next shell and took a few shots with her 1911 while waiting for enough Abby to gather up to make using the Big Stick worthwhile.

A shame Howie wasn’t here to see it, and Tina would be lying if she said she wasn’t worried about him, but Mama always said worrying was like rocking a chair. Gave you something to do, but didn’t get you nowhere, so Tina hoped for the best and focused on what happened, like surviving long enough to find out what happened.

And she would. Survive that is, no matter the odds stacked against her, because she knew Howie would never forgive himself if he made it out Pleasant Dunes alive without her. Silly is what it was, because she wasn’t no little girl in pigtails no more. She was Tina Walker Bradshaw, daughter of two Rangers and Granddaughter to a third, a first generation Innate of two powerful bloodlines that complimented one another like milk and honey.

So if anyone could make it out it, it’d be her, no two ways about it.