Deadman

After Nico had helped herself to enough coffee to be satisfied, and Deux finished smoking enough to make my boat reek of tobacco and narcotics, they got onto the raft and went back to shore.

Nico paused before leaving. “If you need help with anything, you can call on me.”

I nodded. “I know.”

Deux piped up. “And thank you for letting me sleep in your boat between trips. I truly appreciate it.”

“Stop doing that.”

“What?” asked Deux as he began walking away, pretending not to hear me.

I sighed, and watched until the two of them were out of sight, then I moved back into the main cabin of the boat. In spite of the heavy amount of coffee I’d drank, and the secondhand redeye smoke, I felt exhausted. I walked over to my bed and threw myself on it. I lay awake far longer than I’d have preferred, but eventually the soft rocking of the boat allowed me to drift off to sleep.

I awoke a few hours later feeling physically rested, but still mentally tired from the last days events. It was unfortunate that my healing and stamina didn’t help me at all with the kind of exhaustion that comes from a seemingly never ending series of conversations. I took some time to clean and service my guns, then went over my maps and notes to see if I’d missed any updates I’d meant to make. The mindless routine of it slowly cleared the strain I was feeling like steam leaking from a kettle. When I was done, I got my gear together, ate a small meal of dried goose-neck, and hopped off the side of my boat onto the raft. I didn’t need to worry about feeding Gus for a while, which saved some time, as did the fact that I’d just traded with Bill just a day ago.

I went over to my motorcycle and drew the tarp off of it. I sat down in the seat and turned the key. I had just enough gas to get to Fette, so I didn’t bother re-fueling it myself, considering the Khan’s man assigned to my bike would be obligated to when I arrived. I revved the engine a bit, and took off.

It didn’t take long to get onto the main road and once I was on it I had to keep my eyes and nose open for any threats. When I was a little over halfway to Fette, I heard gunfire. I slowed down to a stop and turned off my engine, listening. The fire was coming from less than a mile away from what I could tell, so I pushed my bike off the main road and hid it in a few bushes before making my way, slowly and carefully, toward the sound. It was dark out, so I wasn’t too concerned about being seen in my black clothes.

After a short time I found the source of the gunfire. Two men were crouched behind a cart, the kind you receive as a Postman, that was covered in metal boxes and bags, and fighting off what looked to be six or seven raiders. The two men were holding their own admirably. Taking turns with one another as they fired and reloaded, and I could see that they’d downed at least two of the raiders so far, though one of them had taken a bullet to the shoulder.

I drew my pistol and moved slowly, until I was behind the raiders. As I did so, I began marking them for arrest to highlight them in my vision. When two of them went to flank the postmen I made my move. I walked quietly to stand almost directly behind the nearest one. He didn’t hear me over the gunfire, and only noticed me when the barrel of my gun was placed on the back of his head. I fired, killing him instantly, and then fired on the next nearest of them, needing three shots to take him down. I froze one of the other two who were able to react, unlike their friends. I put down one with two shots and the other with three. That left just one, who managed to raise his weapon and fire on me. I dove toward him, hearing the bullet whistle over me as I did, and I tackled him, slamming him into the ground with enough force that I heard ribs crack. I finished him off by smashing the butt of my gun into his skull.

With those five taken care of I turned my attention to the two that were attempting to flank the other postmen. Under heavy fire from both sides, the postmen weren’t able to actively fire back. I took a slow breath and popped a new magazine into my pistol, then calmly walked over to the nearest remaining raider. I froze him to line up a shot, and put one in his skull. The last raider, realizing something was wrong only after he stopped firing long enough to realize how quiet it had become, popped his head out from cover, and it turned into red mist as a bullet from one of the remaining postmen hit him.

With the raiders taken care of I went to move toward the postmen, but was immediately forced to throw myself behind cover when they fired at me.

“Hold on! I’m not one of them!” I yelled. I hadn’t been careful enough. In the dark they couldn’t see as well as I could, and likely didn’t know what the raiders looked like beyond muzzle flashes. “I killed the rest of them. It’s safe to come out!”

I heard hushed conversation, and after a few moments a voice yelled out. “How do we know you’re telling the truth?”

“Do you hear anyone firing on you anymore?” I asked. “Did you assume you’d just gotten lucky and a ricochet from you killed the ones firing on you before?”

There was more murmuring. “Okay. We’re coming out.” I heard movement as the two moved out of cover, though I could tell by their pace that they were still hesitant.

I slowly moved out of cover too, pistol at my side and freeze ability ready. I saw them both squint to see me in the dark, and flinch back slightly when they saw the parts of my face that were uncovered. “Postmen?” I asked.

The shorter of the two raised his gun at me, but I froze him, and the other raised his gun, but before he could I had mine aimed at him.

“What’re you doing?” I asked.

“Ain’t no way I’m gonna let myself get eaten by no filthy deadman.”

I felt a strong urge to pull the trigger, but resisted. I’d just spent valuable time and bullets saving these idiots, and as a former postman, the idea of people losing out on the packages and letters they were going to deliver was not something I could stomach as a professional. I settled on a savage beating instead.

I changed from freezing the shorter one to the taller one, and closed the distance between us, nailing him in the jaw with a left jab. The other one was surprised to have control return, and when he moved to fire on me, I threw his friend into him, knocking them both to the ground. From there I disarmed them, and kicked them while they were on the ground. I aimed for spots that would be painful, but wouldn’t keep them from doing their jobs. A technique I’d learned from my former master, and experienced first hand.

When I was done, I picked them up and placed them gently by their cart.

“I’m going to loot these raiders. When I’m done, I’ll put your guns over there,” I pointed to a small patch of busted up concrete. “Consider gratitude next time. Or at least, try to have the sense to know that a man that can kill six people to save you, can probably handle two more.”

They groaned in response, which I took as enough of a sign that they heard me. I moved through the raiders, finding that most of their guns were actually in fairly decent condition, and a decent haul of ammo, some of which I could even use myself. Overall my little detour netted a slight profit. When I was done I placed the postmen’s guns down and started walking back to Betty. While I walked I pulled up my notifications.

Congratulations Citizen! You have earned a rank in Pistol! Good job exercising your 2nd amendment rights

Congratulations Citizen! You have earned a rank in Driving! From wagons moving us toward our manifest destiny to the model T, American progress is always driven forward!

Solid developments. My pistol hadn’t been seeing as much use since I’d gotten my rifle and shotgun, but it was important to keep sharp. I reached my motorcycle, turned it on, and started back on the road to Fette.