Deadman - Book 3 Chapter 30: War Council

After leaving an additional twelve corpses in my wake, I made my way back to Medina. It wasn’t far from where I’d been ambushing patrols, but I was slowed down by even more patrols as I closed in. I ambushed a number of them, but eventually volume of them became too much trouble to deal with and I slipped quietly through their lines to the east, then pivoted around to approach the town from the Horde’s border. The town had been heavily fortified. Walls had been built between the buildings, gun emplacements placed all around it, and a mine field to top everything off. It was acting as the major staging area for the Horde, with a fleet of vehicles being serviced, soldier’s resupplied, and deadmen meeting to discuss tactics with their allies.

With its conquest, Medina had come under the authority of the Khan’s law. Those outlaws that had made their living hiding out in the border town to avoid both his and STAR authority, had been given a single day to release their slaves, forfeit their arms, and join the Khan’s forces. They’d been left alone and granted amnesty by STAR and the Remnants, but the Khan wasn’t as merciful. Those first few who had refused, or even fought, were quartered in the center of the town while everyone else watched. Many of their still rotting skulls now adorned the walls that surrounded the town. It was no wonder that Adams was having so much success riling up the populace against the ‘savage’ Horde and ‘monstrous’ deadmen. Still, I was certain the fear worked to our benefit as well. There was always a tradeoff.

The main gate was open for a resupply fleet when I arrived. There were several guards pointing guns at me, but only until they saw I was a deadman. It felt strange receiving their nods of acknowledgement and even words of hello as I entered. The face that I’d once had to cover for fear of being shot, was now what marked me out as an ally.

I made my way through the streets, weaving my way through the new alleyways created by the creation of fresh garages, bunkhouses, and in one case a mess hall. Everyone there gave me a respectful distance, my Horde Marshal star sitting on my chest to avoid any annoying introductions or conversations.

As I walked, I checked my system notifications.

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

I had five of those in a row, netting me a tidy three-hundred patriot points, along with a few skill rank increases,

Congratulations Citizen! You have earned ranks in Long guns! Good job exercising your 2nd amendment rights!

Congratulations Citizen! You have earned a rank in Pistol! Good job exercising your 2nd amendment rights

Congratulations Citizen! You have earned ranks in Melee Weapons! From Bowie knives to Pickett’s charge, the US may have been too advanced for swords, but it’s spilled blood for freedom!

Congratulations Citizen! You have earned a rank in walking! A great way to see the beautiful vistas of this great nation

There were a few duplicates, but I recognized them before reading them and simply dismissed them after counting. The system had lost its allure to me in some ways, now that I knew a bit more about how things worked under the hood, but it would be lying to say that watching the numbers increase didn’t give me some small satisfaction. I returned my attention to the streets of Medina.

I saw one squad of deadmen sitting at a table across from a squad of hordesman, a massive Horde warrior covered in tattoos detailing heroic feats, sitting across from a scrawny deadman that couldn’t have been older than twenty. They were locked in an arm-wrestling competition, strain clear in their faces. Before I’d fully passed them I saw the hordesman barely claim a victory to the adulation of his fellows and groans of the deadmen. He then shared a handshake with his opponent and offered him a sip from a flask he yanked from his hip. I had a feeling it was about to turn into a drinking contest rather than an arm-wrestling competition, and I knew what the result of that would be.

Eventually I reached a building with a number of heavily tattooed and pierced guards. I recognized them as the Khan’s honor guard. I made for the entrance, and they simply nodded at me as I entered. Inside the building was a small recreation of the Khan’s throne room in Fette. A number of his personal guard were working on various car parts, the arcane symbols of the Khan’s were painted on the walls, and a stage upon which there was a table had been constructed where I could see the Khan, some of his wives, Bastien, Atlan, and a few generals I didn’t recognize, and Nix, gathered in a circle. The Khan was speaking, but broke off his conversation as he finished saw me approaching.

“Donovan. Come.” He gestured for me to approach the table, a smile on his face.

I leapt onto the stage and took my place across from the Khan with Nix to my left and one of his generals to my right.

“I have heard of the havoc you have been wreaking to the West.”

“You have?” I asked.

“How could he not?” asked Nix, an edge of chastisement in her voice. “You seem to be purposefully drawing attention to yourself.”

I shrugged. “True. I had thought that was where I would be most helpful.”

One of the generals nodded. “Our raids in that area have faced significantly less resistance. We’re almost close enough to reach Hoos, though their fortifications there are beyond what we could likely handle.”

That surprised me, I hadn’t realized the Khan’s men had managed to get so close to the STAR capital.

Bastien looked to me and nodded. “My people have called you Loup Garou since you left our hospitality. These Remnants call you the Red Death.” He smiled. “I think you shall collect more names by the time this is done.” He chuckled. “I am grateful you did not immediately die when you came here. Your victories only make my own near defeat of you all the more legendary.”

I raised an eyebrow. I didn’t remember it as a ‘near defeat’, but I decided this wasn’t the time to bring that up. “I prefer just Donovan, if you all don’t mind.”

The Khan shook his head. “If only we had more of you…STAR would already be ours.”

I thought back to the First. I had the distinct feeling one of me was enough.

Atlan coughed, “If we could return to the matter at hand.”

I looked over to her. She looked different from when I’d seen her last. More Ursan fur on her than riding leathers. Her metal foot looked to have gone through a few more iterations. I could see that the ‘foot’ of it was clearly adapted to pushing on a petal, but there was some additional mechanism attached to it that I didn’t recognize. I met her eyes for a moment, but didn’t see the contempt that had been there before. Just acknowledgement, and ambition burning behind them. She was likely the only one of the Khan’s many children that had been invited to this war council.

Next to her were her two personal guards. I remembered the first time I’d met them among the Ren Faree. They looked different too. They held themselves a bit taller, and seemed to look down on the other Hordesmen outside of Atlan’s close proximity.

The Khan nodded, and looked to his wife Carmilla, who was holding a clipboard, as she always seemed to be in these meetings. “Status?”

She raised her clipboard, pulling a pencil from behind her ear and drawing a line. “Resupply is nearly complete. We have two hundred guzzlers armed and ready, the Kaijin have nearly three hundred ready, and there are fifty thre-” she paused, looked at me, crossed something out, then wrote for a moment, “fifty-four deadmen from Pott’s.” She paused, and flipped to the next page.”Obviously that is not all of our forces, but the majority of them are committed to raids or strikes deeper into STAR territory, and we still need to transport more of the Kaijin that are on their way from the deep swamps.” She flipped the page again. “According to Fen and her patrols, there are several thousand of the enemy on approach. Their core is made up of around two hundred power armored troops.”

“That’s the largest force they’ve sent so far,” said Nix.

Carmilla nodded, “Yes. Fen also noticed several emplacements and a large amount of equipment that seems to be meant to surround and besiege us.”

Bastien spoke. “They will break themselves on your walls, yes? We have the advantage of our defenses.”

Atlan shook her head. “With that many las-guns brought to bear, they’ll be able to shoot through all but the thickest cover.”

Nix nodded. “My people won’t be able to use their most powerful weapons if we fight from the walls. The radiation it leaks would be lethal to all of you… Except for Bastien of course.”

One of the Khan’s generals spoke up. “We will also be cut off from resupply, but they will not be. They’d have the advantage in a drawn out battle. We were not meant to fight from walls.”

The Khan drummed his fingers across the table. He seemed oddly naked without tools and parts in his hands. “We must meet them before they reach us… We will bleed them as they approach. Use our guzzlers to hit them, and retreat before they can respond.”

Nix nodded. “They will pass a deadzone on their way. We can set an ambush there to harm them further.”

Bastien looked at the map and pointed to a section marked off with Green. “This area, is it a swamp?”

I recognized the location immediately. “Yes, it goes for miles from there. The only road that would be able to accommodate that many Remnants passes through there as well.”

Bastien nodded. “That is where my people shall strike.”

The Khan nodded. “By the time they reach Medina, they will be weakened, and we will be ready for the kill.”

Atlan leaned forward. “I will lead the raids against them.”

The Khan stopped drumming his fingers and tightened his hand into a fist. “No. I will lead it. I need someone to lead things here in case something goes wrong.”

Atlan began to open her mouth to argue, but stopped herself, placing a fist over her chest. “Of course, Khan.”

I saw flashes of anger on the faces of her bodyguards that lingered even after Atlan’s own expression settled.

He nodded to her. “We must move quickly. The longer we have to cut them, the less of our own blood will be shed here.”