Deadman - Book 3 Chapter 27: Good and Bad Actors

I adjusted the rads in my body and stopped glowing. I approached Bastien, lifted up his body, and carried him to the edge, where I lifted him up to be taken out the rest of the way by his people. There was no cheering this time, only hushed conversations in Kaijin, and terrified looks in my direction.

I hopped out of the pit, pulling myself over the edge. Angela’s people surprised me, one of them tossed a waterskin in my direction that I drank from gratefully, drops of water that dribbled down my chin evaporating into steam as they went. Angela’s men didn’t have expressions of fear, but rather of understanding, as if in their minds my victory had always been inevitable.

I poured the rest of it over myself, rinsing off the muck that had covered me during the fight, though a large portion of that had melted off me as well. I was a bit concerned about the rads I’d been putting out, but the pit was large and deep, and I wasn’t giving off a lethal amount. I’d been practicing with my old geiger counter to avoid killing any unwary allies.

Angela approached me, with Leandros just behind her. “Got some new tricks, huh?” she asked.

I just nodded.

She shook her head. “You are one scary motherfucker. Glad we’re on the same team.”

Leandros nodded emphatically at that statement, then lifted my pack toward me.

I took it, and started to pick my clothes and gear out. Putting back my shirt, socks, boots, coat, holsters, guns, and finally my hat and the pack itself.

By the time I was done, I heard a commotion from the gathered Kaijin, and saw Bastien standing head and shoulders above his people, rubbing the side of his head and clutching his chestas he approached me.

“I suppose I lost the challenge.”

I nodded.

His face became concerned, almost sad for a moment. “I gave a good fight at least.”

“No,” I said simply.

I saw a flash of anger, but he quickly hid it and shook his head. “Whether it was good fight or no, I don’t believe I lost.” He raised his hand of his chest in a grand gesture and suppressed a wince. “After all, I got to enjoy a delicious meal, provide enough meat for a my people to last weeks, and give them a bit of entertainment. For that.” he bowed. “I thank you.” he held the bow for a moment, then stood straight. “I acknowledge your strength. You are worth following, and as you follow the Khan, I will follow him. We will honor the old agreements.”

“Thanks.” I said simply, and started turning around, but seeing the expressions on everyone’s faces that the statement got me I realized I should add more. I turned back around. “I look forward to fighting with you. The Kaijin… we need their strength for this fight.”

Bastien smiled warmly and nodded. “I will rally my people.”

I turned back around and started heading back to my bike. Then hesitated, and approached Bastien more closely. “Can I ask why you took things over? Why you did so now?”

Bastien hesitated, then leaned in to whisper to me. “The stars in the sky have shifted. My mother, she is gifted in the old ways, she told me it was my time.”

I nodded, and started back toward my bike. I’d known the Kaijin to be superstitious. A change in their night sky made sense as a catalyst for them to take action. I hadn’t noticed any changes myself, but then my eyes were terminally focused on the road ahead of me.

I had overestimated Bastien, but that didn’t mean I didn’t find him impressive. I found myself thinking of what a shame it was that he’d been raised among the Kaijin rather than adopted by the Undertakers and taken to Pott’s when he was a newly Dead. Then again, it may have been for the best. The person he’d become by being raised here may be the best version he could’ve been. I’d usually been opposed to the idea, as I’d seen so many deadmen suffer living in the wastes, but the Kaijin’s different attitude clearly meant that humans could do better. I wasn’t sure if that made me hopeful, or more angry.

Angela fell in at my side.

“You can tell the Khan I was successful, I’m heading back to Pott’s.”

She nodded. “We’ll have to work out transport for the people here anyway. Based on the numbers it’s going to take a lot of work.”

I nodded, I didn’t envy their logistical problems, but the Horde, of any faction in the wastes, would surely be the most capable of meeting them. Even as I finished that thought, and my bike came into view, I saw smog in the distance and could smell the burning gasoline approach of what I estimated as a dozen vehicles. By the time I’d made it to my bike, the first of what looked to be a half dozen buses, and a number of trucks had reached the patch of flat dry Earth on which I’d parked. Out of that first bus, after it parked, hopped Brun.

The Khan’s repairwoman wife looked as she had the last time. Broad shoulders, blonde braids, and a thick coating of grease that added the potential of conflagration from the lit cigarette hanging from her mouth. She nodded at me and Angela as she approached.

“The Khan told me to bring y’all some transportation. Had to dip pretty deep into the fleet with the war, but I’m hoping we have enough.”

Angela looked over to her. “How’d he know we were done here? We just wrapped things up a short while ago?”

Brun shrugged. “He just told to me to bring the transport. Sent me the message immediately after he left the Ren’s territory.”

I raised an eyebrow. The Khan apparently knew I’d solve the problem from the start, and had the confidence to send the transports ahead of time. That would likely shave a lot of time off getting the Kaijin to the front with everyone else. If it hadn’t worked out, the costs would have been enormous.

I pulled up the R.A.S. and checked the status of the items I’d marked as special delivery. It spat out the coordinates, and I nodded to myself, dismissing the screen. They’d arrived safely in Pott’s, which should mean that both the Undertaker and the Data I’d collected were safe. I’d kept my word, and it seemed the Khan had kept his. I hadn’t doubted him, but I almost always regretted not following my paranoia.

I also noticed a new notification.

Excellent work Marshall! You’ve successfully performed a secondary goal of your job ‘Combat’! You’ve earned 60 Patriot Points!

I got onto my bike and revved the engine. I looked over to Angela, who was taking that moment to risk her life by flirting with Brun.

“I’ll see you on the front. Don’t die,” I yelled over the sound of the engine.

Angela smiled, running her hand through her roosterlike mohawk. “Same to you Donny. I don’t think you’ll have to try as hard to keep that promise though.”

I tipped my hat to her and Brun, and started back on the road out of the Kaijin’s territory, passing the transports Brun had brought with her as they moved single file into the village. I could tell that my diversion had been worth it. The additional numbers, as well as the improved security of the Horde’s eastern border would have a net positive effect on the war that I alone likely could not have compensated for if I’d been fighting on the front lines myself. In spite of that I felt I needed to get there as quickly as possible. I didn’t know what was happening, and I still had no clue if Nico had successfully retrieved Mercy.

I gunned the engine, and flew through the swamp roads watching the trees blur by as I headed West, back toward Pott’s.

…

I stopped riding only when I needed to refuel. My bike starting to sputter as I pulled to the side of the road. I was well within the territory I was more familiar with, close to Jasper, though I saw no reason to divert to take a pit stop there. I pulled up a notification that had been in the corner of my vision for half the ride, but I’d chosen to ignore in favor of focusing on the road.

Congratulations Citizen! You have earned a rank in Driving! From wagons moving us toward our manifest destiny to the model T, American progress is always driven forward!

That wasn’t unexpected after all the riding I’d done within the last few weeks. I pulled the small gas canister I had and started refueling, pulling out my radio with my other hand and fiddling with the dial until the crackle of static gave way to the voice of Adams, the Remnant’s chief of propaganda.

-Proud to introduce to you, America’s true nominee for president, and our current chief of American Reclamation, Chief George Masters.There was the sound of some clapping and another voice began speaking after. Thank you Chief Adams. Now, I don’t want to spend too much time going over my qualifications, that’s not what’s important to the average american. What I will tell you, is that a vote for me, is a vote to return to the America of the past. The pure, idyllic past. We can make it back there, together. Thank you

There was a brief pause, then the message repeated itself. I listened to it one more time, feeling nothing, but contempt for everything Masters said. There was no returning to the way things were, even ignoring the deadmen as a factor, I had my doubts that even the average waster appreciated the sentiment.

I finished refueling, but before turning on my bike, I fiddled with the dial of my radio a bit more until I heard the tail end of a song with screeching guitar sharply contrasting soft vocals. At the end of it Deux spoke.

That was The New York Action Figures with Identity Crisis. Thank you for listening to Radiation Revolution Radio, the triple R! He held the R sound for quite some time, bringing the note up and down seemingly at random. Before we get on to more of that good shit you’re all listening for, I just want to take a moment to say something about presidential nominee Masters. He coughed to clear his throat. He’s a bitch. Hid up in space most of his life, comes down, and thinks he owns the place? I don’t fucking think so. He’s no waster, he’s never had to scrounge or struggle or kill. The only thing he should be in charge of, is the ‘sounds like a cunt’ club. It meets every week over in Remnant territory. Deux took a moment to laugh at his own joke, and I found myself chuckling right along with him. Anyway, let’s get back to the music.

I smiled and flicked off the radio. It sounded like Deux was in his element. It was time to go back to mine.