Chapter Forty - Shotgunning

I volunteered Clin to carry the groceries, and he barely complained about being turned into our mule. It kept him busy, which was good when I saw a shop across the street from the general good’s store and walked over to it. “Stay here,” I told the elf as I ducked in.

The shop sold guns. It was probably one of the nicer stores in Daggerwren, because it was the sort of town where not being armed was just inviting trouble.

I nodded to the guard by the door, some man wearing a breastplate and with a pair of revolvers at his hip and a sawed off cradled in his arm, then I moved to the counter and started eyeing the guns on the wall.

“What are you looking for?” the man behind the counter asked.

“Something for someone who barely knows which end goes bang.”

“Shotgun, then,” he said. “Cheap?”

“Not worth getting something good,” I replied. “Anything that won’t jam up or require too much maintenance would be nice. Don’t plan on playing in the sand with it, but you know how things get.”

The shopkeeper nodded, turned, then pulled a box off a shelf. “Brand new.”

I opened the cardboard box and stared at the gun within. A long, double barreled shotgun. I picked it up and tucked it against my shoulder, then aimed down the length of it towards the far end of the store. It was pretty light.

“Wood’s from Cinderwich. Gun’s mostly made in Flatbluff.”

I tipped the gun over and tapped the stock. It felt light, which made the gun a little front-heavy. “Cinderwich wood’s awful,” I said.

“It is. That’s why the gun’s cheap. The break’s action is decent, and they’re accurate enough, at least for the ranges you’ll be using that at. Been selling a lot of these in the last day or so.”

“Fair,” I said.

He named me a price, I returned one that was a few silver short, then we agreed on the original price with a box of twenty buckshot shells. I took two more boxes, since I figured we’d need them. Picked up a few rounds for my own rifle too.

“I’m done,” I said to Clin as I stepped out. I had the ammo in my pockets and the box tucked to my side. The elf looked relieved to see me, from what little I could read of his expression.

“What did you get?” he asked.

“Ammo, and a gun,” I said. “Come on, let’s go keep Caroline company.”

Daggerwren seemed a bit calmer than I was used to seeing it. Still plenty of folk running about, lots of them the younger sort that I’d expect to see in one gang or another, with colourful bandanas on and cloth tags around their arms.

I picked up the pace, and soon enough we were back and Caroline’s place, shoving our way past the heavy doors and into the yard.

I found Caroline waist-deep in Rusty’s engine bay and decided to leave her at it while we prepared lunch.

It wasn’t anything too special. Neither of us knew how to cook, even with Caroline’s mostly-full kitchen. Some beans, a bit of ground meat, a few pinches of a spicy powder that came from some plant from the edge of the Fast Depths.

My chili was hot enough that you could barely tell that it was undercooked.

I forced Caroline to wash up, then shoved a bowl at her until she ate. She listened to my recounting what we’d learned about the goblins, and was awfully quiet as she finished up and returned to work.

Noon rolled around, and after cleaning things up, I tapped Clin on the shoulder, then gestured for him to follow me out. “What is it?” he asked.

“Those goblins, they’ll be coming here I figure,” I said as I found a bit of scrap off to one side of Caroline’s yard. There was a mecha’s leg laying on the ground, nice and flat on top, and with nothing important behind it. I started stacking bean cans atop it. “Rusty won’t be ready, and even if he was, I’m not keen on leaving Caroline to die.”

“I see. You want to fight, then?”

“I’m not going to join the others in town. Too disorganized, and besides, I don’t care much for Daggerwren.” I gestured around us. “This place though? It’s not really defensible.”

Caroline’s yard had its walls and barbed wire and all, sure. That was fine to keep out a few thieves maybe. But it was an open space within, and with just three of us defending it... only one of which could shoot worth a damn... no, it wouldn’t do to be caught with our pants down when a couple of dozen goblins smashed through the walls.

“Do you know where people will be gathering?” Clin asked.

“Town this disorganized, probably by the town square. Means any attacking mech would need to cross one of the bridges if they’re coming from the east or north. Easy to stop them there. Bet they’ll mostly man the western gates, which just happen to not be far from here.”

“I see,” Clin said. “So you’ll be leaving Caroline and I with the civilians?”

“What? Course not. I’m taking you with me,” I said. “Caroline’s going to want to come too, she has this notion that this town’s worth a damn.”

“I’m not a fighter,” Clin said.

“I noticed,” I replied as I set the last can, then walked back over. I set the box with the new shotgun on the ground, then opened it. “Here.”

“The gun you bought?” he asked.

“It’s a good gun for idiots who don’t know how to handle a gun.”

The elf gave me a flat look. “Why thank you.”

I scoffed and picked the gun up to shove it into his arms. “Now, usually, when teaching someone about handling guns, there’s a whole speech and spiel about safety. It’s a lot of common sense stuff. Assume the gun’s loaded at all times, don’t trust a safety to keep anything safe, and only point it at things you want dead.”

“I’ve had that kind of course before. You’ll recall that I do carry a small pistol.”

“Yeah, and you can’t hit shit with it,” I said. “This might make you a mite less useless.” I tugged a box of shells from my pocket and opened it up. Twenty brass circles greeted me. “The gun’s an 18millimeter bore. These are 18x10 papershells. You know how they work?”

Clin rolled his eyes and fiddled with the shotgun for only a moment before he succeeded in breaking it open. He took two shells and fit them into the barrels. “There,” he said as he closed the gun with a heavy crunch.

I stepped to the side and pointed to the cans. “Fire away. Start at the far left.”

I pressed my palms over my ears as Clin tucked the rifle to his shoulder and aimed. I held in a sigh. He was holding it all wrong.

His first shot blasted out and splatted some buckshot across the wall behind the mecha’s leg. The can very noticeably didn’t move.

I lowered my hands, then moved over to the elf while he pulled out the spent shells. “Right,” I said. I tucked myself in behind him and used my foot to move his leg. “You’ll want to turn into it like this. Bring your elbow up, yeah, that’s it. Tilt your head down a little, you do know how sights work, right?”

“I do,” Clin said. He shifted a little. “Do you need to be so close?”

I blinked, then noticed how close to him I’d gotten. I jabbed a knuckle in the small of his back. “Get over yourself. Now, one trigger at a time. Goblins are skinny little shits, one shot will take them out.”

He reloaded, reset himself and then aimed. It was better than the last time, but not by much.

His first shot was a clear miss, but the second winged a can. Not the one he was aiming at, but it was within half a pace. If he was aiming at a group of goblins, that’d be one less. Still, it was awful aim.

“Right, you keep practicing,” I said. “Get through that box, at least.”

Clin nodded. “I’ll see what I can do, I suppose. The practice isn’t all bad.”

“No, but you are. So keep at it.” I tossed a second box of buckshot next to the first. “Here, go through that one too. Might at least get you reloading faster.”

I patted him on the shoulder and moved over to go check on Caroline.

I found the woman bent over a gearbox on a wheeled table just behind Rusty. “Hey,” I said.

“Hey,” she replied. “He’s coming along, but he won’t be ready to go before those goblins arrive.”

“That’s fine,” I said. “We’ll keep him safe while he’s down, right?”

She nodded. “Right.”

I was not looking forward to the fight, but I’d do my bit to keep my acquaintances alive.

***