Deadman

The trip back home was uncharacteristically quiet. No raiders peeked out and attacked me, giant roaches didn’t nibble at my boots while I slept, and vengeful townsfolk didn’t shoot me any chance they got. I wasn’t sure I liked the quiet. I was comfortable with the chaos of the wastes. It was what I was used to, what I’d been born in.

I made great time on my trek. My enhanced Stamina meant I needed much less rest and could maintain a faster pace for longer. I also found I needed less sleep, which I greatly appreciated. Fewer bad dreams when you only sleep half as much.

The only thing that broke the monotony of walking across the wastes was a notification I received when I was about a day away from Jasper.

Investigate bunker in STARS territory. Aid other Marshalls in their task.

All PP and Class benefits will be lost permanently if this is not completed

Accept Y/N

“Motherfucker,” I spat, selecting yes as I did so. The system was once again trying to force me into doing something. Sure, I’d started to lean toward taking the job anyway, but being compelled to do it was another story.

The pattern of it was really what was starting to bother me. Any time a bunker was mentioned, or a mystery that impacted the wastes as a whole came up, the system forced me to investigate. Leah had mentioned when we first met that it was part of being a Marshall, but there had to be more to it. Just like I was certain she hadn’t told me everything I needed to know about the job she wanted my help with, I was certain she knew more about these messages than she let on. I’d received two of them shortly before or after encounters with her too, which made me all the more suspicious of her. There was also the fact that I’d received it at exactly the point at which I’d have just enough time to make it to Medina and meet her.

I scratched at my teeth. I’d take the job, and when it was over she and I would have a long talk. Preferably without holding guns to each other’s heads, but if it came to that, at least it would be a method of conversation I was familiar with.

I decided to skip around town and take a day home before going into Jasper to see if Bill had found any of the gear I’d requested. I used to give myself about a week between runs when I was a postman, but it seemed I was lucky to get a day as a Marshall.

I found the meat offering I’d left Gus, thoroughly devoured, and didn’t smell him close by so I pulled myself along my raft and hopped into my boat. It was early morning so I decided to heat up some water and make a cup of caf while I cleaned my guns and went over my notes. As I opened the ammo container I kept the caf in I noticed that it was significantly less full than I’d left it, and on the top was a note.

I pulled it out and read it.

Hey Donny,

Gave your report to the honored dead. Tried to paint you in as good a light as I could, but damn you don’t make it easy. Soon as I told them about Boon and Kind they were asking about what you’d been doing in Fette and the Black Woods. Word about you is traveling faster and faster these days. They want to see you in person, it’s time to take a trip home to Pott’s.

ps I borrowed some caf

XOXO Deux

“You bastard.” I muttered to myself. I was glad I had another case buried in the woods for just this kind of eventuality. Still, I wish I’d taken the time to secure the place a little better. I was a little lax about it, as Gus and it being in a deadzone were more than enough of a deterrent for most men and deadmen. Deux was incorrigible though, part of what made him a good Undertaker.

I tossed the note to the side and made my coffee, continuing my morning plans and performing maintenance on everything. A return to Pott’s was a long time coming. It’d been years at this point. I tried to keep them off my back by sending reports and journals their way whenever I passed a group of Undertakers or ran into Nico, but the reports I’d sent lately certainly raised more questions than they answered. I could ignore their summons, but even though I was largely independent of them, I owed them a lot too. They’d saved my life, given me structure. Besides all that, if I didn’t go Deux would probably just hound me until I did. Or Nico would do her best to hogtie me and drag me there herself. I’d give her decent odds at succeeding at it too.

It would have to wait until after this job though. I refused to lose all the progress I’d made to this fickle system. I’d met a few systemless folks. Mostly Kaijin who simply never got a notification. They got along fine, bartered for what they needed or lived in communities where it didn’t matter, but that wouldn’t work for me. The R.A.S. was strength and independence, I just wish it hadn’t become something I could lose.

The next day I headed into town and made my way to Murphy’s. As I passed through I noticed that I was getting a lot more stares. I heard whispers as I passed and the respectful nod I occasionally exchanged with the shooters on the towers had a touch of fear with it this time.

When I reached Murphy’s his sign was lit bright, and as usual the place was empty when I entered. I welcomed that change, the attention I’d been receiving in the streets was unfamiliar and uncomfortable. I had a feeling I’d need to get used to it though.

I saw Bill hunched over a table scrapping a beaten up old revolver for parts. The lenses on his sunglasses were flipped up so he could see the more delicate pieces with ease.

“Mornin B- Murphy.”

He flicked the lenses of his glasses back down and looked up at me. “Don.”

“I’m about to go on a trek. Wonderin if you’d found anything from my list. Also, wanted to see about maybe adding a few things to it.”

He nodded. “Anything new to trade?” he asked.

I shook my head. “No. Not a lot of salvage on my last job. I’ll pay with whatever credit I’ve got left, or points.”

He pulled out a sheet of paper and started going through it. Moving what seemed like random objects from different piles, creating new piles, and sifting through all of it. He spoke as he worked. “Good news on your route.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I broke it into three pieces and managed to sell it off. Some regular folk bought it. The settlements won’t get their mail as fast as they used to, but it’s better than not getting it at all.”

I nodded. There were some paths a non-deadman could take to make those deliveries work. They would take a group of people to manage rather than just a single deadman, but it was a steady source of points if you were careful.

“I’m guessing you want it as credit?” asked Bill.

“Yeah.”

Bill made an absent minded note on the piece of paper he was carrying. “And what did you want to add to the list?”

“Need a new gun. Something with stopping power.” Filling the ursans with lead had reminded me of how many things there were out there that took more than one shot to bring down. I needed something to help me take out that kind of threat the next time I encountered one.

Bill stopped his digging and scratched his chin. “I actually may have something for you.” He moved from the pile he was working on to another that was behind the counter. He disappeared behind it for a moment, there was a bang and some cursing, then he popped back up. In his hand was a shotgun, double-barreled, sawed-off. He popped it open, gave it a quick look, and closed it before handing it to me.

I felt the weight of it in my hand, opened it up myself, closed it. It felt good. I’d had a shotgun when I first started out. They were reliable, easy to make ammo for, and great at turning a raider’s head into a fine red mist. I could tell the one I was holding had been adjusted beyond even the sawed barrel, improved by Bill’s tinkering if I had to guess. I was smiling behind my bandana as I held it, but kept my brows furrowed. Didn’t want to seem to eager to buy it.

“Hmm, I don’t know Bill.”

He tilted his glasses down. “It’s Murphy when the sign’s on, and you’re telling me you’re not interested? That’s a funny thing to hear considering you're cradling it like it’s a newborn.”

I sighed. I didn’t haggle much, I didn’t usually get a chance to as a deadman. Most people give you a take it or leave it offer when they know you’ll have trouble doing business elsewhere. My lack of experience couldn’t have fooled Bill.

“Alright, I want it. You find anything else on my list?”

He nodded and put everything into a pile. There was the usual grouping of ammo, the new gun, four books, and a wrench set.

“How much?” I asked.

“Well, this’ll eat up the rest of your credit, and you’ll owe me 50 points.”

I nodded and sent the points his way. It was a bad deal, but Bill only ever screwed me half as much as the average trader would. I could probably flash my badge and new status to knock the price down, but I doubted he’d have any idea what I was talking about. Word may have traveled across the rest of Horde territory, but that didn’t mean Bill had heard a single word of it here at Murphy’s.