NOVEL NEXT CHAPTER 89: Judgement Day
POV : PORTAL CRUSHER SETTLEMENT
The fate of a thief was about to be decided. John faced Snedlie, his expression stern but calm. “Before we sentence you, Snedlie, do you have anything to say in your defense?”
Snedlie’s face was a mess, tears streaming down his cheeks, mingling with the snot dripping from his nose. He knew there was no way out of this. His only hope was to plead for mercy, to throw himself on the settlement's goodwill and hope for a light sentence.
“I-I didn’t mean for it to go this far,” Snedlie stammered, his voice trembling. “I’ve had a rough life, you know? I never had much growing up, and I guess… I guess stealing just became a habit. It’s just some coins, though. I wasn’t trying to hurt anyone. Please, I wasn’t doing anything really wrong… and I just helped you all with the demon dogs.”
John listened, his face unreadable, then nodded. “All right, Snedlie. We’ve heard your words, and now it’s time for the settlement to decide what to do.”
Atlas, standing nearby, was less patient. “We should just fucking cut his head off,” he growled, his eyes narrowing with anger.
John turned to Atlas, shaking his head slightly. “That’s really extreme, Atlas.” But in his mind, John knew the group would never go for such a harsh punishment. After all, their world back home was governed by Canadian laws, where even the worst crimes rarely resulted in a life sentence—one often reduced by appeals and good behavior to a fraction of that. Capital punishment was a concept so foreign that the thought of it was almost absurd.
John took a deep breath and continued. “Amber, I want you to lead the discussion with the gatherers and crafters. Isabella, you’ll talk with the Portal Crushers. Each of you, take your groups to different parts of the settlement. Discuss what’s happened, and then come back to me in an hour.”
He glanced at Atlas. “You and I will stay here, keeping an eye on Snedlie.”
Atlas smirked, his eyes glinting with a dangerous light. “I hope he runs. I really do.”
If this had been even a week later, Atlas would’ve just killed him—Snedlie would be dead, no question about it. ‘No need for this courtroom bullshit,‘ he thought, frustration bubbling up inside him. ‘But we’re early into this whole wasteland apocalypse experience. I’ve still got to temper these guys, mentally. They can’t continue being weak pussies out here, nor can I.‘
Snedlie, still trembling, knew there was no escape. He was consumed with regret, cursing himself for ever thinking that stealing those coins was worth the risk. The reality of his situation hit him harder with every passing second. The few coins he had tried to steal now felt like the most expensive mistake of his life.
Snedlie’s mind raced as he sat there, bound and trembling, trying to keep his breathing steady. ‘How the hell did it come to this?‘ he thought, his eyes darting around the camp. Every face he saw was either cold or filled with disdain. No one was going to stand up for him. Not after what he did.
He could barely believe he was in this position. ‘I just wanted a few extra coins,‘ he told himself, as if trying to justify his actions. ‘It’s not like I hurt anyone.‘
‘Stupid, stupid, stupid!‘ His mind screamed at him. He had underestimated how serious things were, how quick people were to turn on someone they saw as a threat. ‘I didn’t think they’d actually… they wouldn’t really kill me, would they?‘ The thought made his stomach churn with fear.
Snedlie’s thoughts then turned to John, the man who would ultimately decide his fate. ‘John had always been fair, hadn’t he? He wasn’t like Atlas, who seemed to revel in violence. Maybe, just maybe, John would go easy on him. Maybe he’d be locked up for a while, made to do some dirty work, but spared his life.‘
‘I could live with that,‘ Snedlie thought, though the idea of spending months—or longer—under guard, doing the worst jobs the camp had to offer, made him shiver. But it was better than the alternative. ‘Anything’s better than dying out here.‘
Still, a nagging fear gnawed at him. ‘What if John caved to the others? What if he decided to make an example of Snedlie to keep everyone else in line? Please don’t kill me,‘ he silently begged, though he knew better than to say it out loud. ‘I’ll do anything, just don’t let me die.‘
His mind raced with desperate thoughts of escape, but he knew it was impossible. There were too many people, too many weapons pointed at him, and Atlas was eagerly eyeing him. And even if he did somehow slip away, where would he go? The wasteland was no place for a man alone. ‘I’d be dead in a day,‘ he realized, his hope fading.
As the minutes ticked by, each one felt like an eternity. Snedlie’s fear slowly shifted to resignation. ‘Maybe this is it,‘ he thought, the reality of his situation settling in. ‘Maybe this is how it ends.‘ The tears he had tried to hold back earlier now flowed freely. He wasn’t ready to die, but he was starting to believe there might be no way out of this.
All he could do was wait and hope that, somehow, John would find a way to spare his life. But deep down, Snedlie knew that his fate was now out of his hands.
---
In the meantime, the Portal Crushers gathered in a tense huddle. Wilfredo, usually calm and collected, was seething with anger. He had risked his life repeatedly to protect the group, and now someone had betrayed that trust by stealing from them. Wang Bo, a man who had a very strong sense of justice, was equally enraged. “It’s a matter of honor,” he muttered, his fists clenched. Alexander, never one to mince words, spat on the ground. “Just kill him. End of story.”
As the Portal Crushers continued their heated discussion, Kingsley’s voice cut through the murmur. “We can’t let this slide. A thief in our ranks is a danger to us all. He took from us—took what we need to survive. Death is the only fair punishment.”
Barbara, the medic, nodded in agreement, her expression hard. “I’m with Kingsley. We can’t afford to be soft on him. If we let him go, it sets a dangerous precedent. He’s already proved he can’t be trusted. What if next time it’s not just stealing coins, but something that puts our lives at risk?”
The group fell silent, the weight of the decision pressing down on them. Wilfredo’s eyes darkened as he looked at the others. “We’ve worked too hard to get here. Snedlie’s betrayal can’t go unanswered.” The consensus among the Portal Crushers seemed grimly clear, even if the final decision hadn’t yet been made.
‘‘‘
On the other side of the camp, the crafters were having a very different conversation. Randy, the D&D artist, shrugged off the theft. “It’s not that big a deal. Yeah, it’s wrong, but death? Come on, that’s way too far.” Noi nodded in agreement. “Can’t we just lock him up or something?” she suggested, hoping for a less extreme solution. But Lark, who had caught Snedlie red-handed, was disgusted by the betrayal. “I think the death penalty is called for,” she said, her voice cold and resolute.
Amber, however, felt there was another way. "Exile him. Kick him out and ban him from the camp. Let him survive on his own if he thinks he can." Her tone was firm, believing in a punishment that wouldn’t stain their hands with blood.
Titus had a different idea. "How about a 10-day lockup with him in stocks? Let him feel the weight of his actions, but give him a chance to redeem himself afterward. Mama always said, "if you're bad you should get a time out." His suggestion was met with mixed reactions, the group divided between mercy and harsh justice. The crafters were torn, each wrestling with their own sense of morality and what it meant for their small, fragile community.
---
After what felt like an eternity, the groups reconvened in front of John. The tension was thick as Isabella and Amber stepped forward to present their groups' opinions.
Isabella spoke first, her voice steady but somber. “The Portal Crushers are unanimous. They think that Snedlie’s betrayal was serious enough to warrant the death penalty.”
Amber followed, her tone conflicted. “The crafters are split. Some think we should lock him up, or something not as extreme as others… others think he deserves to die for what he’s done.”
John sighed, looking between them. “Well, it’s clear that we’re not completely unanimous on this. Atlas, you’ve been clear on what you think should happen. But remember, you put me in charge of this settlement, so the final decision is mine. I’ll take your thoughts into account, but I need time to decide.”
The group dispersed, their nerves frayed as they waited for John’s verdict. John walked to a quiet area, deep in thought.
‘If I was still a smoker, this would be when I lit one up.‘
He considered the options: locking Snedlie up would require constant supervision and a secure place to keep him. Killing him would be an irreversible act that could fracture the group. Exile would be a death sentence in all but name, but it would spare the group from having blood on their hands.
By himself, John paced around, making a circular path in the forest. Then, his thoughts drifted to the recent battle with the demon dogs, to the leg bones the newbies had used, and suddenly, an idea formed. It was unconventional, definitely something that wouldn’t be allowed in normal society, but it might just be the solution they needed here.
He also knew he had to be careful. If he chose a non-lethal punishment, Atlas would be pissed. ‘I’ve got to find a way to placate him,‘ John thought, running a hand through his hair. Atlas was volatile, and keeping him on their side was crucial.
‘One thing’s for sure,‘ John thought, his decision weighing heavily on him, ‘whatever I choose, it’s going to have to be the right call. And I’ll have to make sure it doesn’t tear a hole in the group’s morale.‘
***
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