There was another crash of falling rock and a new cloud of dust billowed out. The late sunlight shone through the cloud, revealing a glint of steel among the particles of dirt. Peters caught a lungful and stepped back, coughing so hard he doubled over, dropping to his knees with tears streaming from his eyes. White pulled out a handkerchief and covered his mouth, raising the stick as a larger-than-life form stepped out of the carn, bringing with it a small portion of the lintel and collapsing the structure behind it.
White caught a glimpse of the roof collapsing before a fresh cloud of dust obscured it completely. He retreated further, crossing to Peters and stuffing his handkerchief back in his pocket. He helped his sergeant up with one arm across his shoulders, his stick dangling from his hand as they retreated to what he considered a safe distance.
Peters's coughing fit subsided at lest and he used the back of his hand to wipe the tears from his dirt-streaked face. “I don't think that was a badger, sir.”
“No. I don't think so either.” White peered through the bushes but the dust still obscured the scene. “I'll be surprised if they didn't hear that clear into town.”
“Or see it.” Peters looked over his shoulder at the scene. I can see a figure, I think.”
“Can you?” White looked again. There was an indistinct outline of a figure in the settling dust. Sunlight glinted off metal. “It's that bloody robot, isn't it?”
“It'll bring some sightseers.”
“Yes.” White pulled out his phone. “I told you we should have called in the cavalry.”