Deadman

I woke to a kind of crackling sound and a voice, I bolted upright, my pulse spiking and immediately started searching my surroundings for any enemies. I felt weak, and saw that the hundred corpses around me were being pecked at by various crows, and vultures with a host of mutations ranging from extra wings and eyes, to glowing feathers. I absentmindedly grabbed a severed limb that was a few feet away and took a bite from it, drawing some rads into myself in an attempt to regain some of my strength. I heard the crackling again.

“-Repeat, have the targets been eliminated?”

I started to search around, and found what looked to be a small handheld radio strapped to the leg of a man whose face I seemed to have removed at some point. In the past short-wave radio transmission had too much difficulty functioning properly in the wastes, but it looked like the remnant’s tech savvy had granted them yet another edge. I lifted the radio, finding all of the buttons clearly labeled.

“Please respond.”

I recognized that voice. I lifted the radio to my mouth and squeezed the button labeled talk. “Hello Leah,” I said simply.

There was a pause, then a crackle. “Donovan. I don’t suppose I need to ask what happened to the Republic soldiers I sent that way?”

“I think you can guess,” I said, taking another bite from the arm I was holding in my off hand.

“Would you do me a professional courtesy?” She asked, her voice sounding even rougher through the radio’s signal.

“Shoot.”

“Tell me how you knew we were going to attack and get people into position so quickly. We weren’t even aware you had the kind of numbers necessary to stage a counterattack in a deadzone?”

“We didn’t know.”

“You’re telling me twenty deadmen killed one hundred crazed zealots with some of the best equipment we could give them?”

“No… it was just me.”

There was static for several seconds. “It didn’t have to be this way Donovan.”

‘No. It didn’t.”

“Isn’t letting you live enough? Isn’t the dream of a new America worth it?” I’d never known Leah’s voice to emote much, she kept it level, if gravelly, at all times. This time though, I’d swear she was trying to convince herself as much as she was me.

“I’m looking at a field of one hundred dead men and women you just sent to kill me… You tell me if it’s worth it.”

There was static for a few more moments, then silence. I dropped the radio. That explained Graves' presence. The attack on Medina, at least this portion of it, had been plotted by the Remant’s agents, at least in part.

I started moving through the field of corpses, searching for my weapons. My clothes were shredded, melted off, or bullet holed so I scavenged a fresh shirt, boots, and pants from various corpses. I eventually found my pack, as well as the weapons I’d used and discarded in the midst of the fight. Once that was done, I ate some more, while scavenging for what ammo and other goods I could use. I figured the big stuff, like the armor, Nix could send people to retrieve. I doubted the Remnant’s had the kind of equipment and manpower that they could send their own collection crew this deep into a deadzone any time soon after losing so many resources.

Dressed and re-equipped, I started back on the path of retreat Nix and I had laid out when we’d first been planning the ambush. It was slow going. My pack and body felt heavy and sluggish, though I could feel my strength slowly starting to return as I ate and channeled radiation through myself. I found myself easily parched and when I went to drink from my canteens, I discovered that they’d both received bullet holes.

I hadn’t moved more than a few miles when I smelled something. I stopped moving, putting my full attention on the scent. Gunpowder, radiation, mint, it was a deadman. I began to walk straight toward the scent, which was coming from behind a pile of rocks. I saw two heads pop out, Nix, and another of the militia who’d been with me for the ambush.

The undertaker scanned the horizon with some binoculars, settling for a moment on the pile of dead I’d created then looked at me, dumbfounded.

Nix approached. “Donovan, how’d you escape? Where is the enemy?”

The undertaker moved to her, handed her the binoculars, and pointed.

She took them, looked where he’d pointed, and then looked back at me, her eyes wide. “All of them?” she asked.

I nodded. “Got any water.”

She blinked and pulled a leather flask from her side, handing it to me.

I took it, and drank gratefully and greedily. When I was done I splashed a bit on my face for good measure, washing a bit of the dried blood from my face. Then I handed it back to her.

Both Nix and her Undertaker took a few more moments to look at the dead I’d left behind. I took that time to sit and rest.

Eventually Nix regained her composure. “We’ll have to send a patrol out to recover the power armor, las-weapons, and any other good salvage.” she said to her companion, then she turned to me. “We came out here when our pursuers didn’t arrive at Medina as we’d expected. We were trying to scout their location.”

“Smart.” I replied. “They’re over there by the way.” I said, gesturing tiredly at the dead.

“Yes… we definitely noticed… How?”

I shrugged. “Different ways.”

I stood up. “How’s everyone else? Has the main Remnant force reached Medina?” I asked.

She nodded. “Hundreds of them have begun setting up gun emplacements, testing our defenses, and fortifying their position. Medina is cut off, we were the last to leave.”

I nodded. “Hundreds… I thought there’d be less with the Khan’s raids on their flanks.”

Nix shook her head. “The last raid they attempted was the one before our ambush. The Khan was injured, shot in the face, lost at least an eye and part of his skull..”

That made me alert. “He’s alive?”

She nodded. “Yeah, his sawbones apparently worked a miracle… that’s not the only issue though.”

“What else?” I asked.

“The shot was apparently friendly fire… there were rumblings that it may have been an assassination attempt. “

I nodded, taking in the information and thinking it through. It being friendly fire was certainly possible. Having just rode in a raid, the number of bullets flying had been extreme, and a misfire or accident was certainly possible. At the same time though, I’d never heard of them having an accident like that. Firing from moving vehicles, creating lines of fire on the fly, it was the Horde’s specialty, and those that rode with the Khan were primarily his own honor guard, men and women he’d selected for their incredible capacity for effective violence and driving.

In some ways, an assassination attempt made more sense. Who would stand to benefit though? Especially in the middle of a war? My first thought turned to Atlan, she was ambitious, that was clear, but she also seemed loyal, at least to her father and the Horde itself. One of his wives had betrayed him before, but if there was a hint of that occurring again I felt it would’ve been detected during my last investigation. I needed more information, and I wouldn’t be able to get it standing around.

“What’s the state of everyone’s forces?” I asked.

“Well, the Kaijin and most of the Horde forces are holed up at Medina, trapped, but safe. The horde has some external forces they're going to use to continue harassing the Remnants, but their position is only going to get stronger the longer they’re there. They have the people, and reinforcement could be inbound at any time.”

“Is there a plan?” I asked.

Nix shook her head. “We haven’t had enough of one to come up with anything, but regrouping. We don’t have any way to directly communicate with Medina, and it’s only the Deadmen that really have forces outside of the city… maybe the Rens.”

Nix and her Undertaker started walking. “We can keep talking about it back at camp with the rest of our people.”

I nodded and fell in line behind them, grateful for the first to have other people moving at a slower pace as it gave me the opportunity to rest a bit as we moved. With the Horde’s forces in disarray and mostly confined to Medina, there seemed to be only one clear option. Pott’s and the Rens were going to have to break the siege to release their forces. We’d be outnumbered, and outgunned. I smiled, allowing myself the first feeling of satisfaction for my feat. Outnumbered and outgunned, it had just worked out just fine for me. Maybe that was the state in which deadmen had the greatest advantage.