Marcus clenched his teeth and decided to say nothing, staring down Amurad pointing his pistol at him.

  "Did I break your concentration?" The barbarian leader shook his head.

  The echo of the shot settled in the distance and silence grew between them. Movement in the encampment resumed, filling the quiet.

  Amurad smacked his lips. "You should know better. You've been here the longest now. I don't tolerate failure." He cocked the hammer of his gun.

  Stillness filled the gaps of the clatter of workmen fixing the camp behind Amurad.

  Marcus didn't know what to say. He kept his hands held up.

  Amurad pulled the trigger.

  The hammer fell, followed by a resounding snap of the flint striking on the empty pistol. He withdrew the weapon and stuffed it back on his belt. Then he exhaled slowly while looking around. "I'm glad we could come to an understanding." The barbarian leader glanced at Maximilian's body. "I'm sure that won't happen again." His gaze then locked onto Marcus.

  Marcus lowered his hands carefully.

  "Good." Amurad spun on his heels and departed the rocky outcrop, disappearing into the tent city with his one lone companion.

  Marcus turned to look at Maximilian, who lay dead on the ground, eyes as wide open as the hole in his chest. The mechanic fell into a squat, instinctively wanting to help his friend.

  The rest of the crew gathered around the body, and all observed quietly.

  Ekkehard scratched his head and let his arm fall limply to his side, then looked down.

  The moment Layne closed, he looked at Marcus and fell into a squat next to him, resting a hand on his shoulder.

  Marcus reached down and closed Maximilian's eyes.

  In the time he'd been a part of this crew, Marcus saw many mechanics meet their untimely end, both by way of job hazard and by Amurad, or his goons' hands. There were many when Marcus joined, and with each loss, the next became harder to endure. Maximilian was always a part of the crew, even before Marcus joined but it wasn't until recently that he was moved from being a runner to being responsible for maintenance on the uprights. Marcus's failure for not teaching Maximilian better caused this.

  Simon shook his head and crossed his arms. "See what good all that grousing did?" He turned to look at Ekkehard.

  "Yeah." Ekkehard's voice was low, grave. "About as good as yours is right now."

  Simon grumbled and looked away.

  Layne looked around at the other three. "We should bury him." Then he motioned beyond the rock their child-guard sat upon. "There's soil over that way that might be firm enough."

  Marcus nodded. "That will do, I'm sure." He stood, ready to lift Maximilian's body.

  Layne rose, following his lead.

  As Marcus readied to reach down, Ekkehard stepped forward and with his hulking form, brushed him and Layne aside with a jostle. The two stumbled away from the sudden shove. Then Ekkehard picked up Maximilian into his arms and started in the direction which Layne motioned. Marcus and Layne looked at each other with cocked eyebrows and decided to follow. Simon trailed in tow.

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  As they neared the other side of the rocky outcrop and onto a small grassy depression surrounded by more rock on a slight downhill decline, Layne broke away and retrieved shovels from one of the carts.

  Ekkehard laid Maximilian down on the surrounding stone outcrop and cut into the dirt with his spade. Marcus then jabbed his shovel into the dirt, followed by Layne and Simon. The four worked, with only the sound of the wind and excavation of dirt filling the quiet between them.

  "While the rest of the camp is still in disarray, you should make a break for it." Marcus continued to shovel but turned his attention toward Simon and Ekkehard. Then to Layne. "Eat big tonight and then slip away when the guards aren't looking."

  Ekkehard shook his head and scoffed, continuing to dig.

  Simon's attention drifted toward Ekkehard, then to Marcus.

  Layne didn't acknowledge Marcus, he just kept digging with dipped eyebrows and pursed lips.

  "I mean it." Marcus stopped shoveling and rested his hands on the handle of the spade burrowed in the dirt.

  "And go where?" Ekkehard's voice was harsh, sweat beaded down his face as he forced his shovel into the soil. "The entire brigade is on the verge of being consumed by this marsh." He drove his spade into the ground and looked up. "What hope could we have out there?"

  Marcus motioned west, the direction from which the whole group was traveling. He opened his mouth, but Ekkehard cut him off.

  "You want us to go back?" Ekkehard shook his head. "To what? What village or hamlet did we run into on this trip that wasn't razed to the ground by Amurad? Do you think there were any survivors in any of those places anyways? Or that they would be excited to see the likes of us even if there were?"

  Layne was the only one still digging, keeping his attention directed toward the ground.

  Ekkehard scowled. "And what about you?"

  Marcus passed a glance toward his father's upright. The machine casted its shadow over Maximilian's body. "I'll stay behind, cover for you." He refrained from discussing his plans openly, the only person who knew why he was here at all was Layne, and he'd done a heroic job of remaining silent about it throughout this whole endeavor.

  Simon looked at Ekkehard, then Marcus and swallowed hard.

  Ekkehard shook his head and scoffed. "That's the dumbest idea I've ever heard." Then he drove his shovel into the ground and threw a pile of dirt over his shoulder.

  Simon looked down and continued shoveling. "Well, Ekke kinda has a point. How would you run everything by yourself?"

  Marcus returned to shoveling as well. "I'd make it work."

  Ekkehard grumbled. "Just dig the hole and shut your trap so you don't fill it back in with horse shit. None of us are going anywhere."

  The four finished digging the hole and laid Maximilian's body within, then covered it with dirt. They stood, leaning against their shovels and stared at the mound for a while in silence.

  "We should say something." Layne looked around at the other three.

  Marcus tapped his shovel against the ground and nodded. He wiped the sweat from his forehead on his sleeve. "You were always there to lend a helping hand, and never backed down, even when you were scared. You'll be sorely missed."

  Layne stared at the burial spot. "You were quick to tell a joke, and slow to complain. You were a good friend."

  Simon nodded. "Thanks for always listening to me, even when I knew you didn't want to."

  Ekkehard stared in silence for a while. "You should have never been here. None of us should be, but you especially. You should have been off still tending your parent's farm, not wrapped up in all of this mess. It was a cruel twist of fate you ended up here, and it cost you for no good reason." He scrunched his face and looked away for a moment. "Sometimes I don't think before I say stuff and it ends up doing more harm than good. And I did that to you. I'm sorry."

  The four returned to silence, staring at the mound once more.

  While Marcus was grateful that they were undisturbed during the burial, they still had work to do on the uprights and questions would be asked by the wrong people if they weren't staying busy doing something that seemed productive, especially since they spent most of the day. Evening had come and night would be quick to follow.

  As Marcus opened his mouth to get everyone on the move, he was interrupted by a shout behind him.

  "Hey." The child guard called out to them from his rock perch a great distance away.

  The four turned to face their miniature handler still holding down his elevated position. Marcus braced for the inevitable clamor over nothing getting done.

  "Which one of you is Marcus?" The child continued.

  "Me." Marcus boomed.

  "How do I know you're telling the truth?" The child responded.

  Marcus grumbled. "Just tell me what you want."

  The guard motioned toward the tent city. "The boss wants to talk to you."

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