Deadman - Book 3 Chapter 57: Reassembly

I peeked out of cover, inhaled deeply, and listened, but didn’t see, hear, or smell anyone. There was a hint of gunpowder, and a metallic tang in the air, but as far as I could tell, nothing living or even dead was nearby. I cautiously moved out of cover and toward the outpost. I saw a number of tracks in the mud that prompted the system to ping me with a notification.

Congratulations Citizen! You have earned a rank in tracking! Like the brave Indian on the fertile grasses of the west following herds of buffalo, you carry on a proud tradition!

I searched around, but from what I could tell the outpost was much like the ones I’d raided since the war had begun. There were a number of places for gun emplacements, taking cover, or staging patrols, but it was empty, just a hollowed out shell. Behind that shell was the bunker. It had a much wider entrance than the ones I’d seen before. It was somewhere between the size of bunker and factory doors. I slipped inside, still on guard for any potential threats, but saw nothing.

The entrance had the usual security screening section, but it was completely bare. No posters on the wall with instructions, no computers sitting idle, only the faint buzz of fluorescent lights and old furniture, perfectly preserved in the safety of the bunker itself. The only hints that people had moved through were bootprints, and scuffs in the wall that indicated to me something heavy had been dragged through the halls and out of the bunker.

I walked deeper inside. The residential portion of the bunker was a bit more full, though the entire place had clearly been tossed and searched. Bedsheets and blankets were strewn across the floor, as were dresser drawers and broken picture frames of people long dead. There was a bit more of a human smell here, an accumulation of old dust and fresh sweat.

I left the residential portion of the bunker and headed down the main hall toward what would normally have been the main work area based on what I’d explored in the past. This time it was clear that the project name had been removed from above the main doors leading into the lab room. I dragged a chair from another room to see if I could trace an imprint of any indication of what it had said, but I couldn’t. I pushed my way through the main doors and found a massive work-room. It was easily four stories, maybe five as it was difficult to judge levels underground in comparison with above ground. In spite of its size though, there was nothing inside. No computers, no documents, no bulletins boards, absolutely no indication of what had gone on in the lab aside from the fact that it was big, and had likely been centered in the room so it could be worked on level by level.

I searched around a bit more, climbing the stairs, searching each level carefully, then moving on to the next one, but it was becoming clear very quickly that the Remnants had been very thorough in removing all evidence from within. At the top level, I saw a door at the far end of the level, across from the stairs. There was, once again, no sign, but based on my previous experience I assumed it was the Project Leaders room.

I went to open it, but found it locked. Not just locked actually, looking along the edges of the door it was completely sealed. I squinted, was it possible they hadn’t been able to open the door themselves? If so, the room would hold the key to whatever information I needed. The alternative was that they were hiding something inside. Either way, I needed to determine what was behind the door. I unslung my pack and placed it back by the stairs, then returned to the door. I tried pushing it with all my strength. It started to give, the door itself beginning to bend, when my strength gave out. I cursed, and pushed at again, this time activating my Adaptive Empowerment ability, and letting the red overtake my vision.

This time I was successful, the door bent back further, and further, until whatever was latching it gave, and the door swung open from the force I was applying to it. The slight smell of gunpowder I’d picked up when I’d arrived suddenly became overpowering, and I heard a loud click.

“Stupid.” was all I managed to say as the room in front of me ignited. The explosion was so fast and powerful, that it totally engulfed me even as I was blasted back. I felt an intense pain all over my body, felt my eyes boil in my head, felt the fire cross over every inch of my skin before burning through the nerves and mercifully ending the pain. I was blind, and deaf, and spent a few moments wondering if I was dead before I realized I could smell my own burnt flesh. I couldn’t tell how much of me was left, and felt almost like I was floating in nothingness as my brain seemingly shut down my ability to feel or sense anything.

Then it all came back. The pain arced through whatever was left in my body, and I could actually feel my flesh begin to ripple and writhe, bursting heat blisters from the explosion, and reopening scars. I needed to heal, and my body was on fire attempting to do so. It was screaming, crying out for a form, for shape to appear where it had once been, but it didn’t care if that shape was the same as before. I could feel limbs trying to form where they shouldn’t be, briefly see out of an eye that appeared somewhere on what was left of my back, and feel bone start to protrude from whatever flesh remained on my shoulder. Whatever part of the virus that healed me, was trying to do its job, but it couldn’t do it right. In the back of my mind somewhere I put together that this must’ve been what had happened to the First.

I focused on the burnt smell of my own flesh, and started concentrating, experiencing every painful sensation, but embracing it, and in doing so, forcing my flesh to return to what it once was, and to do so slowly, and deliberately, rather than exploding into whatever form would guarantee immediate survival.

I guided my body to rebuild what was damaged of me piece by piece. It was agonizing, but I refused to let myself become a mindless monstrous beast like the First had become when he’d attacked Pott’s. I mean, it was possible that was the best thing I could do, become a mindless near unkillable monster in the midst of STAR territory. That thought broke me concentration, and I felt my body go into panic for a moment before I wrestled back control.

I wasn’t sure of how long the process took, but eventually I had completely rebuilt myself. I opened my eyes and raised a red right hand into my vision. I was able to see it clearly, to hear the fluorescent lights of the bunker, and smell the burnt flesh stench that still hung in the air. I sat up and flexed each of my muscles, making sure that everything was as I’d left it. I brought a hand up, and cut my finger on the tip of a razor sharp tooth, tasting blood for a moment. I was still me, still a deadman, not a monster. Well, no more of one than I’d always been.

I sat up and stood. I was naked except for a few scraps of cloth that covered me. I retrieved the energy shield from my old wrist and clasped it onto my new one. I pulled my only remaining spare outfit from my bag, and took a moment to mourn the loss of the hat I’d only just received from Deux. Once I was dressed, I slung my backpack back on, and made my way out of the bunker.

The Remnants clearly didn’t want us to find out what they’d been doing, but I was surprised at the depths of their paranoia. They could’ve just destroyed the computers and equipment, or sealed the bunker, but instead they removed everything pertinent that could provide even a hint of what could have happened, and then left a trap that would entice anyone researching the bunker to trigger it. This bunker was across the entirety of STAR territory, and only one of three. I was impressed, it was the kind of thing only a truly distrustful person could do. It had Leah’s fingerprints all over it.