Deadman

The next part of my journey was quieter, but in spite of that I stayed on edge the entire time. I’d gotten cocky, sure of myself, and I’d nearly died because of it. The monsters I’d encountered, both the strange coyote and the horrifying man-wyrms that I’d encountered had reminded me of how dangerous things in the wastes could be. I ‘d come to think of myself as the top of the food chain, and in nine out of ten situations, that had been true, but that last tenth meant I needed to be ready for anything, and make fewer assumptions. Especially while I was still traveling across the Cut.

I moved more deliberately, keeping my senses open, inhaling deeply and searching for any scent of predators or raiders. I was still in the deadzone, but I didn’t know the deadmen on this side. It was best not to trust anyone by default, even if I had my people’s best interests in mind.

I also kept on the lookout for any sources of water or food. I’d eaten too deep into my reserves in order to recover from the attacks I’d suffered and was now down to rationing. I’d walked through a small patch of heavily irradiated rain, so my water stores were at least partially recovered, but even that would need to be completely replaced before I could walk back to my side of the Cut. I’d reached the point of no return, and would need to resupply before making the return trip. I considered possibly hunting a few of the man-wyrm, but couldn’t bring myself to fully consider it. I’d do it, but it was my last option by far.

The one good thing about the man-wyrms was that the system recognized them as human, which meant I’d been able to benefit from fighting them.

Congratulations Citizen! You have earned ranks in Long guns! Good job exercising your 2nd amendment rights!

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!

Excellent work Marshall! You’ve successfully performed a secondary goal of your job ‘Combat’! You’ve earned 60 Patriot Points!

Excellent work postman! You’ve successfully performed a secondary goal of your job ‘Protecting the Cargo’! You’ve earned 50 Patriot Points!

While I appreciated the ranks and points, the reminder that those creatures were, at least in some way, human was unwelcome.

While I was glad to be out of those caverns, one thing still bothered me.I still felt hot. Like there was something cooking just beneath my skin. I’d expected it to fade away as I moved further from the intense radiation I’d encountered in the caverns near the Cut, but it hadn’t. My body had seemed to be regulating itself to match whatever rads were hitting it, but now it seemed to be stuck on overdrive. It wasn’t painful, luckily, but it was uncomfortable.

I didn’t encounter anything for several days. My assumption was that the man-wyrms had hunted the area clean, or anything that had survived was good enough at hiding that I myself was unlikely to run into it. Eventually I crested a hill and had to cover my eyes as a burst of light blinded me. I pulled out my gun and took a breath, but didn’t smell anything other than the clean smell of metal, and didn’t hear anything approaching, so I holstered it and let my vision adjust. The light was a reflection coming off the horizon. It was a massive patch of what looked to be metal as far north and south as I could see.

The directions that the pilgrim had given me came back into my mind.

“Through the forest of teeth, across the metal wastes, walk without rhythm as you cross the abyss, they will notice you otherwise, the black sand whispers and seeks flame, do not give it what it wants. Follow this path and you will find paradise.”

I’d bet my remaining food that I’d just found the metal wastes. The reflection that had blinded me seemed to have come off of what looked from a distance to be a large metal spire some distance ahead of me. I approached cautiously. The vagueness of the instructions had already made me underestimate the dangers I’d encountered so far. I didn’t blame the Pilgrim though, I was grateful to have received any instruction at all.

As I got closer, I began to recognize the shapes of what I was seeing. The metal, the parts that weren’t scrap, was all planes. Every single piece as far as the eye could see was a propeller, a chassis, or a wing. Most of them looked to be small, able to fit just one or two people, but towards the center of clusters of those smaller ones were massive vehicles I couldn’t even begin to imagine being airborne. All of the planes seemed to have been moving East when they were brought down, and as I approached them, I found myself imagining the wave of metal and death they likely represented when they were in the air.

I realized something else. The planes had writing on them, and flags, and not a single one was american. I didn’t recognize the majority of them, but there were a few I was able to pick up thanks to books I’d read. One was Russian, one Chinese, and another I recognized was Russo-Japanese. This had been an attack force. I had no indication of what their target was, aside from that it was likely further east, but one thing was frighteningly clear. They’d all been stopped at the exact same time. A few planes had made it farther than others. Some even looked to have managed something approximating a proper landing, but they’d all wound up here.

When I was close enough, I started to look closer into each plane. Those few with still sealed cockpits had just skeletons sitting in them, some shattered, some oddly intact. Even if they’d managed to land safely, this area was likely radded to hell shortly after their arrival. They didn’t have a chance at survival. I took the time to pick through a few of the planes, figuring I may find a weapon, rations, or maybe a canteen I could use, but I found the majority of them had been picked clean. Those planes with heavy guns on them had them removed, I found no ammunition of any kind aside from some unusable pistol ammo in a few of the sealed cockpits I decided to smash open. Whoever had looted everything was now very well armed, particularly if they figured out some way to manufacture more ammo for the weapons they’d looted. Considering I was sure only deadmen could survive in the wastes where I was, I was beginning to form some theories as to who it could’ve been, but I’d need to confirm them before I could do anything.

I did find what smelled vaguely like american MREs in a few cockpits, and some canteens with water still sloshing around in them. Those I gratefully used to restock some of my supplies, though I was still hoping to find some source of fresh meat. Once I was done with my looting I took shelter in one of the larger planes with its door hanging open. I’d been walking for around eighteen hours and wanted to take some time to read before I went to sleep. I cracked open a well worn book, the fourth Gavain book and read for a few hours before going to sleep.

…

I awoke in the middle of the night, raising the pistol and breathing heavily, sweat on my brow. I could hear voices outside of the plane, I didn’t recognize them, but they were yelling and sounded as if they were in distress. I crept over to where the plane door was, but realized that the voices weren’t coming from there, but further up, from the sealed cockpit. I shook my head. I knew I’d checked the whole plane over before deciding to sleep there. I moved to just outside the cockpit door, my breathing was heavy, and my heart rate increased as a tinge of red came over my vision. I strained my hearing in order to better make out what they were saying, but realized they weren’t speaking english. I made out the word “Nyet” and nothing else. Survivors was my first thought, but that wasn’t possible.

I pushed the door open, and suddenly, the voices stopped. I carefully moved toward the pilot chair and saw the same skeleton that was there before, dead long before I arrived in the metal wastes. I moved back to the small space where I’d made camp, collected my things, and started back on my trek. I had traveled long enough alone that I was craving company, but not so badly I couldn’t afford to be selective.