《Deadman (A Post-Apoc Litrpg)》Book 2 Ch 51: Pep Rally!

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It was a little more than a day's walk before I started seeing signs of the Panthers beyond the sled trail they’d left behind, a few torn pieces of clothing, and the scent of dried sweat and blood. Their trail eventually broke out onto a road and I began following it until I saw a large sign that said, ‘Welcome to Packwood!’. A Panther had been lovingly painted at the bottom of the sign, and then subsequently vandalized. There were a number of bullet holes fired through it, and in red the phrase, ‘Panther’s suck!’ was sprayed over its hindquarters, a yellow dick had been drawn going into its mouth, and a blue sword had been drawn going through the center of the creature. In smaller writing were the words, ‘Go Hawks!’, ‘Knights Rule’, and ‘Tigers Triumph’.

Well, that bit of graffiti told me that there were at least four of these strange human tribes in the area, and they were in competition with one another. That meant four possible sources of the weapons and supplies I needed. I was in relatively good shape on bullets, but I needed something more, and I knew that these humans may have what I needed.

I stayed off the main road, instead sticking to the trees as I wound my way down to Packwood. When I reached the town, I saw a simple barricade of barbed wire, old cars, and wooden fencing. There were a few guards, most of them young, and they were patrolling in an easygoing circle. I could see the remains of a town that seemed to have missed most of the damage of the war. A few buildings were shelled out, but for the most part everything seemed to be intact. There were murals of Panthers all throughout, painted onto building walls, carved into the trees near the town, and tattooed across those residents of Packwood I could see.

I circled around until I found an area that didn’t seem to have much activity. I ran over and jumped the barrier with ease, then climbed onto the roof of the nearest building. It was late afternoon, and the sun was only just starting to set, but the black paint across everything allowed me more camouflage than usual, letting me blend in with my torn, bullet holed, clothes.

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I stayed crunched down on the roof and inhaled deeply, searching for scents of gunpowder or explosives. I found that, along with the smell of blood and sweat further into the town. I moved from building to building, sticking to the shadows and doing what I could to avoid the various people milling about. The streets seemed relatively empty, and when I reached the source of the scent I realized why.

It was an old highschool, the buildings were in the best shape of any of the others I’d seen, with Panther logos, an American flag, and a massive field in the back. I could see, even from a distance, that the field was filled with people. I could hear gunshots, chanting, and the occasional piercing sound that reminded me of some of Deux’s more experimental music.

The scent I’d been following was leading me there, but I didn’t want to risk being seen by that many people at once. Instead, I made my way to the opposite side of the school, and climbed the wall until I was on the roof of the building. I didn’t see anyone, and crept along to the opposite side to see if I could get a better view of what was going on.

The seats around the field were filled to the brim with people cheering and stomping their feet. In the center I saw women dressed in the same outfit I’d seen when I’d first encountered them. Short skirts, and half-shirts, painted black. There were roughly two dozen of them, dancing in sequence. Around them were warriors, men wearing heavy padding, armor, and helmets, wielding rifles, and other weapons. Behind the women dancing was a small stage, and on it was a man in some kind of cartoonish panther costume doing acrobatics, and behind him was a post, onto which was tied the only older man I’d seen since arriving in the town, his head bleeding and bruised and his mouth plugged by cloth.

I watched for a short while, taking note of everyone’s positions, and curious about what was happening. Eventually, one of the dancing women climbed up onto the stage with a megaphone and the commotion stopped.

“How are we doing Packwood high!?” she asked in a bubbly and excited voice.

The crowd exploded with a roar of adulation.

“I can’t heaaaar youuuu,” she said.

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Somehow the crowd managed to be even louder than last time.

“Welcome to our monthly pep rally Panthers! I know times have been hard. We’ve taken losses this year to both the Knights and the Hawks and so our chances for State have gotten that much harder.” she paused, letting her audience boo, and yell profanities at the other tribes. “But, what do us Panthers do when things get tough?”

“WE GET TOUGHER!” exclaimed the crowd.

“That’s right Panthers! And I think the first step is a change in our coaching staff!” She gestured to the man tied to the post, and the crowd replied with boos.

The man himself struggled weakly, but could barely move and couldn’t say anything.

The woman approached him, and was handed a knife so clean I could tell it was glimmering even from the roof where I was crouched.

“OUT WITH THE OLD BLOOD! A SACRIFICE FOR ETERNAL STATE!” Chanted the crowd.

“Thaaaat’s right panthers!” She turned and slit the man's throat in a single quick motion, bleeding him out quickly.

The man in the panther costume took the knife from her, and held it up for the crowd prompting a raucous cheer, before he moved to a large building just off the field, that I noticed was guarded by several of the Panther’s warriors.

“Now… It’s time to announce our new coach! A former quarterback who led us to victory in the great games of twenty-three-eighty and eighty-two, please welcome and honor our new coach, Braxton!”

A man walked out from the seating, he was wearing a black hat and jacket, and was only slightly younger than the man who had just had his throat slit. He was also white as a sheet. Clearly this process was repeated often.

“Braxton! Braxton! Braxton!” started the girl on stage, gesturing to the crowd.

They responded, repeating the name, and yelling it with all their hearts until the pale man walked up onto the stage.

The girl handed him the megaphone and he took it with quivering hands, slowly bringing it to his mouth. “I…I will do all I can to get us to eternal state. Offense, Defense, we’ll do everything we can..to..to win…. Go Panthers!” The man managed to push out those last two words with enough force to once again rally the crowd.

After that, the leader took back the megaphone and started leading everyone in cheer after cheer, until they were frothing at the mouth, and tearing their clothes off in excitement. After hours of this, as night started to fall, the ceremony finally ended, and everyone began to disperse. I watched them carefully. The majority went back toward the main stretch of town, the women in ceremonial garb went back into the school, as did a few of their armored warriors, but a few of them stayed near the outbuilding as guards. The one dressed in the Panther outfit entered that building again, then left, still dressed in the costume, and began moving toward the school. There was no one around him, and he stopped behind the arena, removing his hat and lighting a cigarette. It was a young man, maybe seventeen.

I made my move. I crept over to the edge of the building, checking for anyone nearby, and seeing no one. I leapt down, landing as softly as I could, and into the arena. I climbed the seats until I was above him, slipped on the jump pack I’d been given, and used it to float gently downward and land behind him.

He flicked his cigarette, grabbed another and went to light it. He reeked of sweat, and his costume had what looked to be decades of stains on it. He flicked a lighter, and it produced sparks, but no flame.

“Shit,” He muttered.

I reached into my pack, pulled out a lighter, reached out of the dark behind him, and lit it. “Need a light?” I asked.

He nodded, smiling slightly as he turned to look at me and then froze.

I moved a finger to my lips. “Be quiet and you might live…You won’t live long enough to scream if you try to anyway.”

For a moment, it looked like the kid may have had a braincell or two in his head after all, then he opened his mouth wide.

I froze him and sighed, stepping around behind him and snapping his neck with a quick jerking motion. I would’ve used my sword, but didn’t want to get blood on the costume. I’d need it for the next part.

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