Deadman

I walked over to the railing and looked over the side. The fall should’ve killed them, but that was never a good assumption to make in the wastes. Especially considering my own near-death survivals. The splash of red below confirmed the sniper was dead. I took a breath and holstered my pistol. After that I sat at the sniper's perch and spent some time digging shrapnel out of my wounds. They were already beginning to stitch closed as I did so. Once I was done I headed back downstairs, this time taking the main door rather than the scenic route, and retrieved my bag and cloak. It had a few fresh bullet holes, but at this point all my clothes were riddled with them anyway.

I made my way back up the building and looked over everything the sniper had in their nest. I found a healthy amount of ammo, a few raw potatoes, a blanket, and some jerky. Either they hadn’t been in the raider business very long, they were bad at it, or they had targeted me specifically. I climbed down the tower and went to the body. The first thing I noticed was that they landed on their rifle, bending it in such a way I could tell it wouldn’t be usable anymore. I removed the ammo from it and tossed it aside, marginally disappointed. My rifle skills were at the point where a gun like that would’ve been a nice thing to have.

I turned the body over and looked at the person’s face. It was damaged, half the face had caved in from the fall, but in spite of that it was familiar. After looking it over for a minute I realized I recognized them from Kind. She’d been one of the guards the second time I’d passed through. I sighed, and started walking. She was dead, so an interrogation was out of the question. It wasn’t like there’d be a convenient note with all her reasons for setting up here. While it seemed she might be someone with a motive to attack me personally, it seemed equally likely she’d just gone raider. How could she have known I was passing through this way, after all? I had taken back roads around Kind, and hadn’t encountered anyone since I’d left Jasper. It was more likely it had been random than planned.

Whatever the case, it didn’t matter. She was dead, and now I had a pile of fresh ammo to trade. Things in the wasteland could be as complicated or as simple as I chose to make them. This time, I chose simple.

After moving some distance from the ruins, I found an old gas station and decided to hole up until my injuries were healed. I pulled the haunch of deer back out of my pack and ate it down to the bone, finding myself much hungrier than I expected to be. It made sense. My regeneration had to be fueled by something. I broke the bones in half and sucked out the marrow.

Once I was certain my arm was usable again, I started back on the road to Medina. I passed through a few deadzones, but none with problems beyond massive radiation causing my geiger counter to tick loudly. I took very few breaks and so arrived at the town much more quickly than I expected.

When Medina first came into sight, I assumed it was nothing but a heap of rubble, an ugly dark brown dot in the midst of an orange and cracked wasteland. As I got closer I realized there were people moving all throughout it, ants in a hive. I drew my bandana closer and popped on my goggles, though I popped one of the lenses out when I remembered it had been cracked by shrapnel. Better to make people a little uneasy with a red eye than to not be able to see.

Before I’d even reached the town's edge I began to hear gunshots. I reached for my pistol thinking they may have a policy of shooting deadmen on sight, when I saw someone running toward me. It was a thin, haggard looking man, clutching a bottle of some kind to his chest. The bullets were for him, and he narrowly avoided a hail of gunfire before screeching to a halt in front of me.

Before I could react, or he could start running again there was another shot. The haggard man’s eyes widened and he fell to his knees. A wild expression took hold of him, and he lifted the jug to his lips and started drinking wildly, even as blood poured from his wound and stained his clothes.

From what I could smell the jug was almost pure alcohol. I stepped around him and kept heading toward town, just as a few rough looking men reached us. They gave me a look, but I just kept my eyes forward and stayed moving, so they ignored me. There was no reason for me to get involved. From what I could tell, that man had been dead in one way or another for years.

As I walked into the town I took in the sights. I didn’t see a single person on the street who didn’t look like they’d slit my throat for a sip of hooch or some ammo. Men and women fought openly in the streets, whores advertised freely, and more than one junkie was getting sunburnt to a crisp in the middle of the street, out of their minds on some backwoods pharmaceuticals.

Luckily, while I got more than a few glares as I walked through, they seemed to have the sense to realize I wasn’t worth starting trouble with.

“Hey handsome, looking to feel some smooth skin for a change?”

I turned to look at where the voice was coming from. It was a woman, wearing an oversized suit jacket and nothing else. Her hair was dyed bright blue and shaved on the side, and her eyes were glassy. I wasn’t sure what she was on, but it must’ve been something good to motivate her to solicit me of all people.

“Sorry. Not interested.”

That earned me a middle finger and some choice words before she went on to the next person walking up the street. A man with a mohawk and leather pants that seemed much more game for what she was offering.

I wasn’t sure of where exactly in Medina Leah had wanted to meet me. I also wasn’t completely certain she herself was here yet. I’d arrived two days earlier than I’d expected. I hadn’t figured in not needing as much sleep into my travel time. I figured I’d start by searching the bars and asking around. As I walked the streets though, I realized it would take me quite some time. About half the buildings in town were bars.

I started to look at them, noting what they were named or what symbols they used for themselves. It didn’t make sense for a town to need more than one bar. Typically, if there were two, one of the owners would off the other one. At least that had been what I’d seen in the past, particularly in a town like Medina. I searched around a little more before I realized the reason for it. They weren’t just bars. They were clubhouses for different raider groups. I recognized a handful of the emblems as ones I’d encountered before. I had a moment of concern that they may have it out for me before I realized I’d never let any of the raiders that had attacked me survive.

With that figured out I started narrowing things down until I realized there were only two unaffiliated bars. I walked into the first one, a place called ‘The Collar’, and immediately regretted it. It wasn’t very busy, but I got the reason for its name almost immediately. It was a slaver bar. I could see a man with a woman on a chain and another man haggling in the corner, and several stages that I guessed were used for auction nights. I didn’t like slavers. Hard to, having spent my first fifteen years as a slave.

I considered walking straight out, but I didn’t know if Leah was there so I decided to make a trip to the bar first. The man behind it scowled a little at me when I approached.

“Don’t serve deadmen here.”

I almost laughed. The slaver bar considered itself above deadmen? I kept that amused attitude as I grabbed the man by the throat and dragged him across the bar, pulling off my bandana and showing my teeth as I did.

“Hooch.” I said tossing him backward.

His scowl turned to a look of fear and he quickly poured me glass. It looked and tasted like shit, but it was almost strong enough for a deadman. I tapped the glass for a refill and he obliged.

“Looking for a woman.”

“No auctions until tomorrow.”

That made me grit my teeth. “No, a specific woman. Long scar on her throat. Voice like grinding metal.”

“Ain’t seen a woman like that here.”

I drank the second glass and placed it down. Then I stood up to walk out.

“You gonna pay for that?”

I ignored him and walked out. I couldn’t stand to be in there any longer than that.

I walked across the way to the only other unaffiliated bar. This one was just called, ‘Saloon’. I pushed open the door. I could tell quickly that this was the bar the man I’d seen killed had stolen the jug from. There were fresh bullet holes in the walls, and one of the men I’d seen approach the body was standing behind the bar. The place was empty, aside from a large circular table at the back where a card game was taking place. One of the players gave me a wave. I’d found Leah.