Deadman - Book 3 Chapter 46: Escort

I stood there for a moment. The entombed, all ten of them that remained in modified power armor. I’d seen them in action, tearing through Remnant’s like they were paper, leaping through the air, smashing drones… I could take them if I needed to.

I nodded. “Okay.”

Nix relaxed, and I felt the tension go out of several of the entombed as well.

I held out my arms. “Do you need to cuff me or anything?” I asked.

Nix shook her head. “We both know that would be pointless… I would appreciate if you’d surrender your weapons though.”

That made me grit my teeth a bit, but I complied. I took off my pack, my holsters, and my sheath, handing them to one of the Entombed, his armor decorated with images of intertwining snakes.

I held out the sword last for him to take. “Don’t squeeze the handle. Easy to hurt yourself that way.”

He nodded, deciding to hold it from the sheath. All of them had seen that sword cut through power-armored Remnants at this point.

Nix looked at me. “That everything?” She asked.

I nodded. “All but my hands. You can cut them off, but they’ll grow back. Probably quickly.”

One of the Entombed laughed, his voice coming out with a bit of static.

I gave him a blank stare.

“Oh…” He said.

After I was metaphorically disarmed, we all stood awkwardly for a few moments, everyone seeming at least slightly uncomfortable with the situation we’d found ourselves in.

I looked around at my allies turned wardens. “So, are we going to start moving or what?” I asked.

They all turned to Nix, who simply nodded and made a sweeping gesture. “Let’s move.”

We began walking, deviating only slightly from the path I’d already been taking.

The Honored Dead had discovered what I’d done in Eden. Knew that I’d killed my way across their territory, broken down their walls, freed their slaves, and killed their leader. I’d known that they would’ve been against it. Even if they’d seen first hand what Eden had done, they’d never have condoned violence against them. They were fellow deadmen, they may have gone against what Pott’s preached, but that didn’t justify, at least to the Honored Dead, attempting to destroy them. In light of our potential extinction what I’d done would be seen in an even worse light.

I thought of Eden for a moment. The human woman who’d been drowned for trying to escape, the deadmen and women enslaved in their factories, the maddened deadmen they’d left to be tormented unceasingly in the hallucinogenic gas nearby, the madness in the eyes of the first. Whatever the Honored Dead thought of my actions, I’d done what needed to be done.

That didn’t explain how the Honored Dead had found out though. I didn’t believe that Nico or Deux had told them, they wouldn’t betray my confidence like that, and if they had why would they have chosen now to do so. Had the Honored Dead found some way to contact Eden? Sent another scout across the Cut? They had my notes of the dangers in the area, but knowing what was out there and surviving it was a very different story.

I shook my head. None of that felt very likely. What about the opposite? Had Eden somehow brought people across the Cut? An individual accomplishing it was unlikely, but an army… could they have recovered from what I’d done so quickly? Found Pott’s in such a short time. If that was the case, why would they bother going through Pott’s to get to me? I didn’t have enough information.

“Who’s my accuser?” I asked.

Nix looked back at me from where she was walking in the lead. “I was told not to give you any additional information until you speak with the Honored Dead.”

“Is it just one person? A group? An army? That’s all I want to know.” If it was an army, everyone in Pott’s was in danger if they were to trust them.”

Nix shook her head. “Two people.”

“Two…” I muttered. That threw a wrench into my theories. I kept considering possibilities as we moved, day turning to night. Pott’s… what would they do to me if they found me rightly guilty for what I’d done? In the past their strongest punishment was exile. Removing people from all contact with Pott’s and its people. Even the First and the original founders of Eden had been exiled rather than killed or jailed. If that was the punishment, I wouldn’t be able to support Pott’s directly anymore, they’d refuse to speak or acknowledge me in any way. Nico and Deux… that thought caused me more distress than I expected. The thought of exile in general I found much more painful to consider than I had in the past. I forced myself to let out a long breath. Exile or no, the main reason to return and stand trial was to see these Edenites myself and determine if they were a threat. Pott’s was the priority, even if my actions could damn me in its eyes.

We began to search for a place to camp for the night, my escort not having my endurance even encased in power armor. A dust storm was building, and I found myself retrieving my goggles and bandana from the depths of my bag. It had been quite some time since I’d used them. I remembered when I would travel everywhere with my face as hidden as possible, avoiding the conflict that would come with my existence as a deadman. Things had changed since then. Now I welcomed that conflict, and those humans I encountered were the ones who went out of their way to avoid it.

Shortly after I got everything on, the dust storm hit. It was thick, and heavy and I considered slipping away from my captors, but that was more based on instinct than desire. We found the ruins of an old gas station to take shelter in, and Daisy, the Entombed’s leader, prepared food for everyone. It smelled good, with what I could tell was a heavy amount of spices, and a lot of meat.

I sat in the center of the building, the entombed were watching me, but seemed unsure of how closely they should be doing so. Kind of milling about, not sure if they should really settle in, or remove their armor, or even take their eyes off of me. Nix was checking the perimeter, so wasn’t there to give them any clarification.

“Tea?” asked Daisy, holding out a small mug, steam rising from it.

I shrugged, taking it. The mug was hot enough to burn my palms slightly, but I ignored it, blowing softly across the top of the mug until I judged it cool enough to drink. It was good, sweet, with a hint of mint, and something else I couldn’t identify.

The rest of the Entombed relaxed a bit when I took the drink, as if a prisoner with a hot drink was less of a threat. It would be hard to call them green based on what I’d already seen them do, but a bit naive, certainly. I heard Daisy order five of them to exit their power armor, and the other four to remain armored and focused on me, they would take turns eating. I noticed that she herself had kept hers on, only revealing her face to taste what she was cooking.

Eventually she came back over to me, this time holding four skewers of warm, spiced meat. I smelled it deeply, picking out the spices, and identifying the meat as something bovine, but only barely. I took them with a grateful nod and began tearing into the meat with gusto. It wasn’t as if I hadn’t eaten recently, but I was always hungry.

“You know, a guilty person would never eat so easily.” said one of the Entombed, out of his armor. A young deadman with pale yellow eyes. “They’d be too concerned with what could happen to them.”

I laughed, surprising myself.

“What’s funny?” asked a deadwoman sitting next to him, placing one of her skewers onto the floor. “I mean, all of us think you’re probably innocent. We’ve fought with you. We know you’re not a bad guy.”

I picked at my teeth for a moment with a skewer. “Do you think the Remnant’s think they’re the good guys or the bad guys?” I asked. “Do you think they think you’re the good guys? Slaughtering them in black armor?” I put the skewer down. “I am guilty…guilty of doing what needs to be done. Same as anyone worth anything to Pott’s.”

I drank more of Daisy’s tea, clearing my throat. It had gone cool, but still had a pleasant taste and aroma to it. The Entombed all looked distinctly less comfortable than they had before, the armored ones, who’d been lax about watching me, brought their attention back to me in full.

I looked up at Daisy, a brief inhale and search of nearby scents answering my question before I asked it. “Any food left over?”