The Craftsman's Touch (4)
"I'll take care of those bottles."
I calmed down the struggling family and called over the combat drone hovering behind me. It glided smoothly toward us, extended its mechanical arm, and effortlessly lifted the box full of bottles. The restaurant family gaped at the drone.
"We've got your stuff packed, so let's get going."
"Ah, right!"
The family bundled up in their coats and were just about to step out the door when—
Boom!
A loud crash echoed from the alley outside the restaurant. I peeked out and saw the awakeners who'd wrecked the tracks in the recon drone's footage earlier—panting hard as they charged toward us. One group led by the muscle-bound guy wielding a car door as a shield, the other with the awakener firing off fireballs like crazy.
They looked like hell after plowing through the zombie horde, but the moment they spotted us standing safe and sound in front of the restaurant door, their eyes lit up with fury and they came rushing at us.
"Huff... huff... What the hell, you! Trying to cut us off?!"
"You got here faster than us?"
"W-Why are those people acting like that?"
"Are they gonna loot us...? They're after my booze!"
"Who'd want that booze..."
The family huddled behind me in fear, whispering about what was going on. This was a headache. I hadn't expected both groups to show up at the same time—
Just then, the fireball guy caught his breath, stepped forward, and raised his hand high. One palm aimed at us, the other at the car-door muscle man. A head-sized crimson fireball roared to life above his palm.
"If you don't wanna burn, back the hell off nice and quiet! These people are coming with us to the safe zone!"
The man glared menacingly, issuing his threat. But I didn't budge.
That fireball was all bluff from the start. I remembered the conditions of the constellation's quest. Escort the family safely to the safe zone. If this guy hurled that thing and damaged the family—or heaven forbid, those precious bottles—he'd get no reward and just piss off the constellation instead.
"You should be the one raising your hands..."
And telling someone to raise their hands? That was a line for the guy holding the gun.
Our smart drones reacted instantly. No need for me to give the order.
Whoosh—click!
The combat drone gently set the box down on the ground, then precisely aimed its gun barrel right between the fireball guy's eyes. At the same time, the sniper drone descended slowly from above, proudly displaying its hefty sniper rifle barrel.
"Uh...?"
The man's face, cocky just a second ago, drained of color in an instant. A skill-made fireball was scary, sure, but humans had an ingrained terror of guns. Especially when emotionless drones were aiming them.
"G-Guns..."
"For real?"
"Gotta be real... Wanna test it?"
The man sucked in a breath and hastily snuffed out the fireball in his hand. Without a word, he—and the rest of his group, along with the other survivors—shot their hands up high like they'd rehearsed it. The power of guns.
"O-Okay! We give up!"
The fireball guy yelled in panic. I smiled at them with their hands up and spoke gently.
"Good call. You seem busy, so go on your way."
"We're going! We are, so... don't shoot? For real! Please!"
"Yeah, yeah, no shooting."
While the fireball guy and his crew meekly backed off under the gun barrels, the other group's mood was far from settled. They turned away reluctantly, fiddling with their ripped-off car door or plucking at their crossbow strings, shooting us dirty looks. If not for the protected family and armed drones right beside me, those glares would've come with arrows.
Still, they left peacefully enough.
"Let's hurry back to the train."
"Why were they aiming at each other just now...?"
The woman asked uneasily. Fair enough—they might not fully grasp what just happened. I explained it as clearly as I could.
"...The reward the constellation's offering for this job is so good that the awakeners are competing for it."
"Oh..."
They looked like they hadn't even considered that possibility.
We retraced the path I'd taken following the recon drone earlier. Gunfire boomed from beyond the alleys—probably those two groups tangling with zombies again. The family, spooked by the noise, paled and let out short screams as they trailed slowly behind me.
We'd walked quite a ways and were almost at where I'd parked my train when I spotted unfamiliar marks gouged into the asphalt. I stopped dead.
"Everyone, hold up... Go hide inside that convenience store up ahead and stay quiet."
"Huh? Why...?"
"...Zombies maybe!"
"Daddy, over here...!"
At my sudden command, the family looked puzzled but obediently slipped into the shattered store.
I narrowed my eyes at the ground.
It's different from when we left.
Before departing, I'd memorized the broken track ends and the ground state meticulously. The gouges on the pavement had multiplied. Especially this deep, long scrape. It matched perfectly with the mark from that car-door muscle guy's drag on the ground earlier. They'd clearly fought zombies here.
They beat us to the train.
With my train sitting out in the open ahead, they'd have spotted it easy. That scrutinizing gaze from before flashed in my mind. Full of malice.
"Recon drone."
I quietly called the one hovering in the air.
"Check around the train. Quietly, got it?"
The recon drone zipped off. About two minutes later, it slid back in front of me, hovered, and stared through its camera lens.
"Something wrong?"
The drone bobbed its lens up and down like a nod. Faint reflections in the lens showed the family peeking nervously from inside the store.
"That 'something'... related to the train?"
It nodded ambiguously.
"...Did they cut the tracks?"
This time, a quick nod. Just as I'd feared. The train was nearly invincible to external damage, so not the train itself—something to the tracks.
"Are those guys near the train?"
For my final question, the drone nodded vigorously up and down.
Why did bad hunches always hit the mark? It was clear now. Ambush. They were gunning for me.
I'd sensed something off in that lingering stare at me and my drones.
"Hmph... Playing it that way, huh?"
I pondered my options. Cutting the tracks and hiding somewhere reeked of ill intent. No interest in talking it out, so neither was I.
I could've sent drones to reverse-ambush their hideout. But if that drew zombies here, I'd be fighting solo to protect the family without drone support.
"...Alright."
One idea hit me.
Kaboom!Screeech!
Every time the ripped car door swung like an axe, the sturdy steel tracks bent like taffy and the ground cratered helplessly.
The muscle-bound man panted roughly, gazing down at his handiwork with satisfaction.
"Heh heh... Just like I figured."
He twisted his lips into a smirk and whispered to his comrades huddled behind him.
"Wasn't sure since she had a flail not a spear... but dragging drones around? Had a hunch, and boom—real train."
His eyes gleamed. Hide in this abandoned building, wait for the girl to show, then one-shot her with crossbow or skill. Done.
"...We really doing this?"
"Damn right."
Not without some guilt, of course. But the reward? Enough to drown it out.
Then, one party member peering intently at the train through the window spoke cautiously.
"But that train looks way dangerous. If someone mans the turret..."
"Can't move anyway. Wait outside turret range, she'll come out eventually."
The train did look more threatening up close. Barbed front, turrets, the works. But tracks were cut. Even if she holed up inside, couldn't last forever—even buying family rations from the gallery exchange. Plus, holding the family too long out of greed would anger the quest-posting constellation.
The man's fist cracked audibly. Just level 1 super strength let him smash like this—what about 2, 3?
"She should be back soon..."
He muttered, scanning outside. That's when the female awakener aiming her crossbow at the approach yelled in surprise.
"Huh?"
"What? She here?"
"No, not that... Something just whooshed into the train..."
"Whooshed?"
Vague, but he had a guess.
"Ah... one of those drones floating by her earlier."
The man grinned. Perfect—one pesky gun drone in the train first meant higher ambush odds.
Vrrr—vrrrr.
But then, something burst from the train's sealed roof, sending an eerie vibration rippling through the ground.
"What's this vibration...?"
"What? I don't feel anything."
"Me neither..."
His companions tilted their heads puzzled at his words. That instant—
"GRRAAAAAH!"
"KRROOO!"
From the dead-silent alley, spine-chilling roars erupted all at once.
"What the fu—?!"
The man peeked out in horror. Zombies—dozens, easy—eyes flashing like a tsunami surging in. Luckily, they beelined for the train, pounding the windows.
"Shh... Don't even breathe...!"
"Gasp..."
The man flattened pale-faced on the floor. His party did the same, hands over mouths, huddled tight.
Their ambush spot? Way too close to the train. If spotted—
Thud! Thud-thud!
"Ngh...!"
Zombies barreled past, slamming the outer wall. No way they wanted to fight that many in this cramped dead-end building.
They prayed the horde stayed fixated on the train, holding their breath—
The vibration stopped.
Zombie noises lingered faintly, but the vibes were gone. Curious, he sneaked a peek out the window.
"...What?"
He blurted unwittingly. The train, swarmed by zombies moments ago? Gone like a lie.
How?
"Grrr...?"
"Kyaaah..."
Losing their target, the zombies halted. Aimless, they shuffled in circles around the empty spot.
Right inside one of those nearby ruins? Them, holding their breath.
The man's lips quivered. They'd cut the tracks to trap the train.
Now? They were stranded dead center in a zombie horde.