The place was chosen for a reason. We were separated from the plague-ridden metropolis by a wide river, almost as big as the Oka. Everyone agreed that the evil creatures were afraid of flowing water. There was a bridge, but it was alone, and we hoped only a small fraction of the creatures would make use of it.
The first thing we dragged from the quarry two tractors with buckets, dumps and excavator. It cost twenty-four hours of sleepless travel and millions of burned nerve cells. There was no straight road to the village under construction, so the road increased about two and a half times.
Seven kilometers an hour! That was exactly the speed of the cars. And how much diesel and gasoline they spent to find and bring it - it's hard to count.
While some searched the outskirts of the city for fuel and transport (of course, me and my golems were indispensable here), others fortified their defenses. Mostly with the same stakes and slingshots.
When the tractors arrived, they set to work, encircling the settlement with a wide and deep moat and an inner earthen berm, with a bridge over the moat. However, after a week of work, the excavator broke down and one of the bulldozers began to roar suspiciously. Well, it usually happens, what can be without a fly in the ointment in a barrel of honey.
I was lying there with cold hands and feet, dizzy and weak from loss of blood, or shaking in a truck to and from the warehouses. The number of golems had increased by five more this week: copies of Chappy. This model was the best: small, low-cost, agile, nimble and skilled in combat, perfectly suited for various jobs.
Many thanks for Lucas help. The healer brought me up to speed in a few hours, and on the second day after the bloodletting, I was piercing a vein with a needle again and filling a jar.
I had my own house, small but two stories, like almost all of our buildings. But I lived in it practically alone. There was metal junk and a few golems on the first floor.
Practically is not a reservation. Somehow it so happened that two of the girls I knew models stuck to me with their tails: the very first acquaintance, the dark-haired Karen, and her friend almost brown-haired Anna, the one who was riding on her lap. And the most beautiful of the whole modeling group (or just fit perfectly into the image of a girl that sits in my subconscious). At first, their hut was literally wall to wall with mine. Even a year ago... Come on, a few months ago I would have definitely tried to crack open the walls and peek behind them. Then they helped out on the house building as much as they could and somehow they were suddenly the mistress in my house...the mistresses.