Deadman

After I accepted, the Khan dismissed me and one of his women guided me to a room with an old military cot and nothing else. She was blonde, with her hair done up in braids that were looped through gears and bolts as if they were jewelry. As I removed my pack and went to sit on the cot I found that she was still standing at the exit.

“You will be collected in the morning. Do you need anything? Ammo? Weapons?”

I checked my equipment, going over what I heard. The black woods would only take a day to get to by car, which is what I assumed the Khan meant for me to take when he said I’d be escorted, so I wasn’t worried about the journey itself. The woods themselves were another story. They were a massive deadzone covered in trees with black leaves that glowed softly at night. I’d seen the treeline itself, but had never entered it. The rads weren’t very high, but in spite of that, no one who’d entered it far enough for people to lose sight of them, had ever returned. I had always wanted to explore it, but never expected to be compelled to. In any case, it was hard to know what I’d need.

“Rope. 9mm and .308 ammo, and some fresh water,” I answered. Some things tended to be helpful no matter the situation one found themselves in.

She nodded, and closed the door, leaving me to my preparations and thoughts. I pulled up my investigation screen and entered in the details for the job I’d been given by the Khan. The system accepted it. After that I cleaned my guns, sharpened my machete, and went to sleep.

…

I woke up to the sounds of machine work and revving engines. Spears of sunlight poking through the roof fell onto my face. I sat up and pulled out my notebook. Sleeping on everything that had happened had pushed something to the forefront of my memory. I took the map I had of the area out from where I'd had it stuffed in the back of the journal. I looked it over, and grimaced. In the middle of where the black woods sat, was where I’d seen one of the dots on the map in the bunker. I wasn’t certain of what exactly that could mean, but considering the context, it was likely nothing good.

Just as I was slipping my pack onto my back the woman who’d led me to the room appeared with a small bundle. She held it out to me. “The supplies you requested.”

I turned to look at her and noticed her eyes widened. I realized I hadn’t yet pulled up my bandana and goggles. I looked away and fixed that before turning back around and taking the bundle from her. “Thank you.”

“It’s as the Khan wills.” She gestured out of the room. “Please follow me to the convoy you’ll be riding with.”

I nodded, and fell in behind her. I’d expected another meeting with the Khan, but it seemed he’d spoken with me all he’d felt he needed to. Just before we exited the tent the woman turned to me, and I realized she was holding a small bundle of letters. She held it out to me.

“One of the other wives wrote this for the last group of children that were taken. The Undertakers left before I had a chance to give it to one of them. Could you make sure it finds them?”

I nodded, and took the letters. It would probably be hard to figure out which kid each letter went to, but I could certainly pass them on to the next undertaker I saw on the way to Pott’s.

She gave me a small smile as I folded them into my pack. I’d have returned it, but she wouldn’t have seen my expression under the bandana anyway. After that she finished leading the way to a large open backed truck flanked by three motorcycles.

A woman leapt out of the truck and in front of us. Her heavy boots made a loud thumping sound as she landed. She was broad with the sides of her head shaved. She had the same tattoos as the rest of the men with the vehicles, and she was wearing aviators. “Coming to kiss me goodbye Sara?” she asked the woman who’d led me.

“I’m afraid the Khan wouldn’t like that very much, Angela.”

“What? He gets as many wives as he wants and they don’t get to have any themselves?”

“Exactly.” She gestured at me. “This is the man you’ll be taking to the black woods.”

I stepped forward to stand in front of her.

“You in charge?” I asked.

She tilted her glasses back to look me in the face. “Yeah. It’s my truck and these are my boys.” She gestured at the motley crew that stood behind her around the vehicles. It was seven all together. They were heavily armed and armored, as was the vehicle which had a massive gun mounted at the rear.

“Do you have any information on what happened to the last patrol?” I asked.

Angela looked behind me and Sara, then back at me. “Just that it went missing along the edge of the forest. I have the general location down, but nothing beyond that.”

She was lying. There was definitely more going on, but I didn’t think I’d get anything here in the middle of Fette, with the Khan’s eyes and ears all around us. I just nodded at her and started loading into the back of the truck. I heard Angela make a quip about how I seemed friendly, but that didn’t bother me much, this arrangement was temporary, and we didn’t need to be friends in order for me to get the information I needed.

After I found a comfortable corner, the rest of the crew loaded on as well. One sat at the gun, one across from me, Sara was the driver with another of the men in the passenger seat, and the remainder loaded onto their motorcycles. I listened to the engines roar to life, joining the chorus of engines that hummed across Fette. I heard the tail end of a joke from one of the cyclists and laughter all around. After that we started moving, out of Fette and heading north.

…

We were almost halfway to the black woods by late afternoon, and I was questioning my decision to walk everywhere more strongly than I ever had before. The same distance we’d passed would’ve taken me days. Sure, unlike the convoy I would’ve been alone and much more likely to be attacked by raiders or radded out animals, but maybe the time I saved would be worth dying over.

We were passing under the remains of an overpass deep in the heart of a swamp that had almost completely eaten the remains of the road. The modified wheels of the vehicles easily passing over the difficult terrain. As we went to pass under another raised section of road, a woman’s voice cut through the sound of the engines.

“Help! Please!”

I pulled myself up to look over the railing of the truck, holding my hat in my hand to keep it from flying off as I did so. A little way ahead of us were several women, standing under a road sign waving at us. They looked disheveled, and around them were the smoldering remains of several vehicles similar to the ones we were in.

Our convoy slowed to a crawl and I could just barely make out a muffled conversation from the cab of the truck I was in.

“It’s not on the main path, but uh, I wouldn’t mind having a group of women like that feeling grateful,” I heard the man in the front with Angela say.

I could just make out a sigh, and the truck started moving toward the women. “I’ll do it, but only because I don’t want to hear you boys bitching about missing out for the rest of the ride,” said Angela.

I hadn’t expected any stops on the trip, and as we got closer to the women pleading for help my teeth began to itch. They were wearing rags, but in spite of that they seemed well fed, and all of them were being very careful about how they were positioned as we approached. Aside from that, the whole thing smelled off, literally. The burning coming from the cars smelled like a wood fire, and even though my senses were clouded by exhaust, I could swear I smelled more women than I could see among the group. I readied my rifle, and lowered myself to where I was directly behind Angela.

“This doesn’t look right, I think we should keep moving,” I yelled over the engine.

I heard a snort. “What, is your dick dead too?”

As if to answer her joke a shot rang out and the man sitting next to her in the passenger seat’s head exploded into a red mist.

“Fuck!” yelled Angela, but instead of braking she slammed on the accelerator.

The women in front of us all went from crying out for help to pulling out guns and firing. I held on tight as Angela rammed the truck we were in straight into two of the women, rolling over them with a gruesome bump of the tires.

One of the men on motorcycles was lit up, but another managed to slide his bike into some cover and quickly draw a pistol to lay down some fire.

I popped up and started activating my abilities and firing, trying to thin out the ambushers as quickly as possible. The continued movement of the truck and the surprise we’d created by ramming right into them surprised them enough that we were able to avoid the hail of gunfire that would’ve nailed us if we’d taken even a second later to react.

One of the other men in the cab with me jumped onto the heavy machine gun on the back of the truck and started firing as Angela continued to drive, moving from running over the first two ambushers to driving us in a circle, keeping us moving while we laid down fire.

It wasn’t long before the ambush broke and scattered, the women fleeing in all different directions. I managed to tag a few more, as did the rest of the men in the convoy, and soon there was no more sign of them. I made a quick headcount. We’d lost three men from the convoy.

I watched as the remainder of them collected a single piece of jewelry from each of the men who died, and then shifted their riding order. One took a place in the passenger seat after removing the body there and two others took over the motorcycles of the dead. After that there was a quick search for any loot and we were on our way again. I had seen the Iron Horde in battle a few times, and what always impressed me was how they handled losses. There was a system in place based on where you rode in the horde, and when those of a higher rank died, the lower ones moved up. The horde believed that made them stronger, those that survive prove their strength by living. Live long enough, and even the position of Khan became theoretically attainable.