《Deadman (A Post-Apoc Litrpg)》Book 3 Ch 22: Eastward
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I gave the Khan more of the specifics about my ward and what may be necessary to keep him from harming himself or others, then I left him to continue working on Betty’s engine. I then went to the local quartermaster, to turn in the two Ursan heads and bargain with him for the location of the bodies.Once that was done, I went to check on my ward in the dungeon. I found him sleeping, still bound as I’d left him, with the pile of food and bowl of water completely empty. I took that to be a positive sign for his recovery. I removed his pack from my own, and refilled it with his goods, including the data squares I’d recovered. I’d made backups that I kept to myself, but I was certain that once he was in his right mind he’d have no issue making the delivery himself. In case he didn’t, I wrote a short letter with instruction either for him or whatever undertakers the Khan may deliver him to. Once I was done I marked the package for ‘Special Delivery’. It was an ability I’d never used in the past, but decided now was as good a time to give it a try as any. While I was in the R.A.S. I noticed a new feature hovering in the corner of my vision. I accessed it.
Presidential Candidates
MIchael Masters
Gary Garyson
Janet Rysling
Dogbreath III
To be an official candidate one must have 1,000 nominations. To qualify for the first debate one needs 5,000. To qualify for the second debate a candidate needs 10,000
I only knew Masters of those listed, but found it oddly comforting that at least one true wastelander, which anyone named Dogbreath would have to be, had somehow managed that many nominations. The Deadmen wouldn’t have chosen a candidate to unite behind yet, and it appears that they’d been disciplined enough no to enter the system and divide their nominations.
I dismissed the screen and left the dungeon. At the exit stood Shay, a small satchel under her arm, that she held out for me to take.
“What’s this?” I asked, taking the bag.
“Payment for the Ursan heads and locations.”
I took the bag and looked through it. It was mostly a mix of different kinds of ammo, along with some leather, and a large amount of Ursan fur. Easy items to trade or sell, and much lighter to carry than the Ursans’ heads. I did a quick count of it all adding it to my mental inventory of everything I was carrying, then returned my attention to Shay.
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“I was expecting to drop by the quartermaster for this,” I said.
She shook her head. “I am trying to speed your departure.”
I nodded. “Fair enough.” I slid the bag into my own pack and started to walk toward the smell of Angela across the castle grounds.
“I’ll ensure your undertaker is taken care of.”
I turned around. “The Khan already gave his word.”
She nodded. “And I will keep it. I volunteered to take the quest. He will be delivered to your people unharmed.”
I nodded, deeply, “Thank you Shay.”
She started to speak, but left it. Instead just nodding back at me and walking away.
I made my way over to where I scented Angela and found her behind a stable that had been converted into a garage, locked in an embrace with a ranger. I cleared my throat, causing them both to jump.
Angela saw my face and scowled. “That’s a damned mood killer if I’ve ever seen one.”
I ignored the comment. “Time to go.”
She buttoned up her top while the ranger hiked up her pants. “I just got here D-man. I was expecting a bit of R and R after being on the front with the Khan. I haven’t even slept.”
“Then you used your time unwisely. The Khan wants this done, and I want to get back to the Front.” I could hear the irritation bleeding into every word as I spoke. I hadn’t slept in a week now, and while I didn’t feel my strength diminishing by much it was affecting my mood. I wanted to get back. There were Remnant’s to kill, and if I wasn’t there to do it, then deadmen would die. Ones who couldn’t heal would be shot, green recruits that had never left Pott’s would get blown to bits, Nico would be acting in my place…
“If you just give me the coordinates, I’ll go myself,” I said.
“Fuck no, the Khan told me to escort you so that’s what I’m going to do. Shit!” She took a vial out of a jacket pocket, poured a bit of it out on a nearby table and snorted it. “WOO!” she said and pointed at the Ranger as she scurried out of sight. “I had been planning to snort that off her tits, killjoy.”
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I ignored the comment. “I’ll be getting my bike in order, I’ll meet you at the gate.”
I moved further into the garage toward my bike, hearing Angela start to wake her crew with a slew of curses fouler than an Ursan’s breath. These curses were often punctuated with the sounds of a mild beating or even a gunshot into the air.
I found Betty neat and clean on the far end of the garage floor. She’d been cleaned and was shining more brightly than I’d ever seen before. I could see my reflection in her glossy black paint. I looked… different. My teeth seemed even longer and sharper than before, and my red eyes were brighter, no longer the color of dried blood, but instead they had a sheen like a jewel. I was still myself, but it seemed like my mutations were changing me externally as well as internally. It was no wonder people in Pott’s had difficulty recognizing me at first.
I moved Betty out of the garage, popped in my key, and she roared to life. She sounded, not louder, but more consistent with her rumbling. I moved her a short distance and found her a bit more responsive, a bit quicker to react. I wasn’t a mechanic myself, though I’d bought a book off Murphy that I thought was about motorcycle repair, but instead seemed more dedicated to philosophical ramblings. That being said, I could tell when something had gone from good, to better, and that was how Betty felt roaring beneath me.
In spite of her protests, Angela was ready and waiting by the gate by the time I arrived. She was in the driver’s seat of her truck, which was now supported by four bikers and a smaller truck behind hers. She’d been promoted since the last time I’d been from what I could tell, and I recognized one of the motorcyclist as being a Ren, though I couldn’t recall his name. All of her people looked tired, and annoyed, cursing under their breath and flipping Angela off behind her back.
Angela started up the truck and stood in her seat for a moment. “I know you’re all tired, but the job is what it is. I don’t expect any fucking grumbling about it. If you have a problem with it,” she pointed at me, “Take it up with that asshole.”
They looked at me, almost in unison. They went quiet, one of them swallowed, and one managed to meekly mutter. “No problem.”
“Alright then, are you ready to move?”
One of them leaned over the side of the truck and vomited, it smelled heavily of alcohol, then he pulled himself back up and gave a thumbs up. “Ready.”
“Let’s go then.” She sat back down and turned on the truck, revving the engine a bit while the gates opened, and then cutting loose with a rapid acceleration onto the road out of the Black Woods.
I started off behind them as they rode, taking up the rear of their formation. It would make no sense for me to lead, as I had only a marginal idea as to where we were going, and I didn’t want to get in the way of their typical formation and make myself a liability. The trip through the Black Woods didn’t take much time, the pitch blackness of it lit by the patrol’s headlights as we moved.
Traveling at night was dangerous, and doubly so in a vehicle, but with me, and two trucks with 50. Caliber guns mounted to them, the patrol had little to actually worry about. We rode through the night, and into morning, taking only short breaks as we went. There was a certain patch of road I drove across where I realized I’d left the areas I’d more frequently patrolled. In the past, as a Postman I’d stuck to mostly Western Horde territory. It was more settled, but had more banditry because of the wealth of targets and closeness of the STAR border to flee across. Nico’s routes were always in the East, and that tended to involve a lot more Kaijin, and wild folk. I’d traveled the region a few times of course, but I didn’t know it like I knew the West. Part of me, in spite of the weariness of not sleeping or resting since I attacked the Remnants, was feeling a little excited at the prospect of exploring the region more thoroughly.
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siyari.
𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗌𝗂𝗒𝖺𝗋𝗂.
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