The next morning came too damn early. Sheriff and Shed slipped out of the Rusty Anchor while the two jagged moons were still hanging low in the sky. The town of Ceil was half asleep. Bandages and quiet curses drifted from open doorways. No one stopped them. Most folks just looked away still pissed about the fight and the bodies they had to bury yesterday. The air felt heavy with smoke and regret.
Sheriffs leg sparked every few steps sending small blue flashes into the dirt but he kept moving without a word.
He adjusted his duster and spoke low.
Keep low Shed. We scout the forward camp first. If Saint is not there we push on to the main base. No noise. No hero shit.
Shed hissed and flexed his claws the cracked scales pulling tight.
Yeah yeah. Lets get this over with. My scales still feel like crap from yesterday. Everything hurts but we are doing this for the kid.
They moved north through the ruins staying deep in the shadows of floating rubble. The ground was uneven and the air smelled like dust mixed with old blood from the battle.
Every step kicked up fine powder that stuck to their clothes. After a long hour of careful walking they spotted the forward camp. It was a small outpost built into broken stone walls. Three lookout towers stood uneven. A couple hover bikes were parked outside and maybe ten guards lounged around looking bored and tired.
Sheriff crouched behind a cracked pillar his red eye zooming in on the details.
Ten guards. Sloppy as hell. They think we are done after the fight. Perfect for us.
Shed grinned showing his sharp teeth the expression tired but determined.
Bet they are still hungover from the beatdown we gave them. Lets clear them quiet. No mess.
They waited for the right moment hidden and patient. When two guards walked past smoking and talking low Shed dropped from above like a green blur. His bone knife flashed once across the first throat then twice into the second before the man could yell. Blood sprayed quiet onto the stone and the bodies dropped without a sound.
Sheriff moved in low revolver out but he did not fire. He grabbed the third guard from behind his metal hand clamping tight over the mouth and snapped the neck with a dull crack
Three down. Keep going. Stay silent.
They cleared the rest one by one moving like shadows. Shed took two more with his knife silent and fast slipping behind them and ending it quick. Sheriff handled the last four with his fists and quiet twists of metal hands. One guard tried to reach for his radio but Sheriff crushed the device and the throat in the same motion. No alarms rang. No shouts went up. Just bodies dragged into the dark corners and hidden behind rubble.
Inside the small command shack they found a map pinned to the wall with rough notes scribbled on it. Sheriff ripped it down and studied it under the glow of his red eye scanning every line.
Forward camp is just a pit stop. Main base is deeper north built into the big ruins. Heavier guards scanners the works. That is where they are holding Saint. We got the direction right.
Shed wiped blood off his claws on a torn piece of cloth from one of the guards
Shit. Looks fortified as hell. Metal walls high towers and who knows what else. How the hell do we get in without getting lit up like targets
Sheriff folded the map carefully and tucked it deep into his duster.
We scout it next. Walk and talk on the way. Keep your eyes open for anything useful. We need every detail.
They left the forward camp behind without looking back and pushed deeper into the ruins. The ground got rougher with loose gravel and sudden drops. Floating rocks drifted overhead like lazy clouds blocking parts of the moonlight. Every step made Sheriffs leg spark worse but he did not complain or slow down. The pain was just another thing to push through.
Shed walked beside him tail flicking nervously as they moved.
You really think we can pull this off tin man? Just the two of us against a whole base full of armed goons and scanners?
Sheriff grunted keeping his voice low.
We have to. Saint gave himself up for us and the town. We owe him big time. Plus he is crew. Simple as that. We do not leave crew behind.
They kept walking boots crunching on gravel .
The two jagged moons were high now casting weird double shadows that made everything look twisted and unreal.
Shed broke the silence again after a long stretch of walking.
Remember when we first found the kid? He was running out of that portal all wide eyed and scared shitless. Now look at him. Stepping up in the middle of a battle like that yelling stop for everyone. Kinda makes you proud yeah? Even if it got him taken.
Sheriffs now replied
Yeah. Kid has grown fast. But right now he is probably sitting in some cold cell asking a million questions nobody answers. Scared but still talking. We need to move fast before they break him or move him somewhere worse.
They talked more as they walked filling the long miles with words to keep the worry down. About the battle and how chaotic it got when the numbers dropped. About how Mark had beaten Sheriff down personally with those heavy fists.
About Shed getting swarmed by goons and slammed hard into a crate like he was nothing.
About the way Saint had shouted stop and given himself up to save the town and them. The guilt sat heavy between them like a stone in the chest but so did the cold anger pushing them forward.
Shed kicked a loose stone hard sending it skittering into the dark.
Fuck Mark. And fuck that Director prick with his stupid mask and red line voice. When we get Saint back I want a piece of both of them. Make them pay for what they did to the kid and the town.
Sheriff nodded slow his steps steady despite the sparks.
Get in line. First we scout everything right. Then we plan the real hit. No rushing in half ready.
After another long hard walk that stretched their legs and tested their patience they finally spotted the main Mark crew base. It was bigger than they had expected. Tall metal walls rose high built right into the side of a massive ruined tower that looked ancient and twisted. Hover bikes lined the east bay in neat rows. Guards patrolled the walls in pairs. Scanners swept the perimeter with steady red beams cutting through the night. A central block stood out heavy doors extra lights and reinforced walls. That had to be the prison area where they were keeping Saint.
They hid carefully behind a cluster of floating rubble and watched for hours without moving much. Sheriff counted every guard noted the shift changes and marked weak spots on the new map he was building in his mind and on paper. Shed sketched the layout with a claw scratching lines into the dirt ground adding details about patrol routes and blind corners.
Sheriff whispered
East gate is still the best bet. Bike bay has fewer eyes at night. The drainage grate might still work if we can reach it without tripping scanners. Cells are in the middle block. Saint is probably there waiting.
Shed squinted hard yellow eyes sharp in the moonlight.
Looks like twenty guards on the walls and more inside. We need a distraction or something sneaky. Or we go full quiet again like at the forward camp. No room for mistakes here.
They kept talking low while they watched every detail. About possible routes in and out. About what weapons they might grab from the bike bay. About how Saint was probably still asking his endless questions scared but too stubborn to stay quiet. The conversation helped pass the long hours of waiting and watching.
Sheriffs voice stayed calm but hard as metal.
We map it all. Every patrol. Every camera angle. Every weak spot we can find. Then we hit them tomorrow night. In and out clean. No mistakes this time.
Shed nodded
Bet. Saint is waiting in there. We are not leaving him locked up with those bastards.
We bring him home.
They stayed hidden and watchful until the moons started to dip lower in the sky. They mapped the main base as best they could from their spot noting guard rotations blind spots and the exact path that looked safest to the cell block. Sheriff drew it all out on the paper adding careful notes in his steady hand marking times and numbers.
When they finally pulled back the sun was just starting to rise again painting the ruins in pale light. Both of them were tired sore but .
They had cleared the forward camp. They had scouted the main base. They had the layout and the timing.
Sheriff folded the new map and looked at shed
We have what we need. Forward camp cleared. Main base scouted. Tomorrow night we go in for saint
Shed hissed showing a tired grin on his face.
Lets bring our kid home. No more waiting.
They turned back toward Ceil walking slower now legs heavy from the long night but minds set hard on the task. The ruins felt a little less empty with the map safe in Sheriffs duster and the promise they had made to each other burning quiet between them.
Saint was still out there locked up in that cold metal base asking his endless questions to guards who ignored him. But his friends had seen the base up close. They had the layout. They had the plan.
Tomorrow night they would move.