Snippet #2763587

Girthfield nodded, crouching and beginning to move through the damaged crates of the chamber.

"Now I tell ya," One of the scavengers began as he walked along the artillery's walkway, a hand gliding over the metal. "This is worth our weight in gold, boys. Know how much those warlords will pay?"

"Dirteater, how the hell we even gonna move this thing to sell it?" Another asked, double knotting the rope around a wheel tread. "I say we should just take it apart and sell it for parts."

Dirteater glanced down at the man. "Ain't nothin' like this on the Rock. You ever see a gun like this? Nah," Dirteater turned to the weapon, touching it again. "We take it apart... it just becomes another piece of trash, like everythin' else in this place." Dirteater smiled, his black teeth appearing beneath his thin mustache. "Nah... for the first time... we got the treasure."

Girthfield had managed to navigate to the other side of the chamber, the artillery reigning over him. From the corner of his eye he could see the Matran crew member- shot, most likely by the scavengers. No sign of the woman she had been with earlier, the smith...