Deadman

The week was hard. I spent the first day secluded in Nico’s home, reading her books, doing maintenance on my remaining weapons, and answering the door for visiting undertakers so that they could give themselves a headache and start the process of gaining access to the advanced R.A.S. It took less than a day for me to feel restless. If I’d been in my own home, on my boat, floating on crackling irradiated water while listening to the sounds of crickets and feeling the gentle rocking of it as Gus swam nearby, it would be different. I’d have my books, maps, and other distractions allowing me to rest my body by keeping my mind active. Nico’s house offered those distractions for her, but not for me.

Nico herself, and Deux, had business all throughout Pott’s to take care of, but spent that first evening telling me more of what had happened since I’d been gone. The Khan had been consolidating power, and recruiting soldiers more heavily, getting prepared for the conflict with the Remnants. He was now engaged in trying to get the tribes of Kaijin united behind his banner so that they would fight with him in battle. He’d had some successes, in large part thanks to his ex-wife, but things had slowed down. In STAR territory, the Remnants had completed their absorption of the Republic and were now focused on developing staging areas and forts all throughout their territory. That made sense, as most of their armor and weapons required charging as far as I knew, which meant they needed fortifications to resupply. Nico had also noticed that the average number of power armored soldiers and las-weapons was slowly increasing.

One the second day, I found I couldn’t stay inside any longer. I went for a walk, making my way between the building domes and districts of Pott’s. As I walked, passing other deadmen, I noticed them clutching their foreheads or stopping less and less, until the R.A.S. patch seemed to not affect them at all beyond giving them the notification that it was downloading. I tried to take my time as I walked. Looking at the different murals and patterns that were painted across the domes, some colorful and happy, other dark and brutal, but all of them unique and interesting to see. I smelled the scents of different teas everyone brewed drifting through narrow alleys, as well as the smell of warm sizzling meat being cooked in restaurants. The sounds of light, easygoing conversation, the height of which was boisterous laughter. I received my fair share of stares, as always, but most people were polite enough to give a nod, some even saying hello in spite of the fact that they were clearly scared of me.

It was so different from anywhere else in the wastes. I’d had that thought the first time I’d been there. I’d hated it then. It felt fake, wrong, ephemeral. I couldn’t deal with the calmness and warmth of it, and had joined up with the Undertakers to leave before even that camaraderie and routine felt too restricting and I felt I needed to make my own way. I’d been grateful of course, they’d saved me in every way that mattered. Gave me an education and a chance to make my own way and asked nothing in return. Because of that I had felt I owed them.

I had grown beyond just feeling indebted to them though. The discomfort I felt there felt like confirmation that it needed to exist, that it was important. Any place that made me uncomfortable in this way, had to be good. A place I wasn’t meant for, that wasn’t cruel or hard, that was a good thing, even if it would never be a place I couldn’t settle down in.

I walked from one end of the city to the other a few dozen times. The city had grown by maybe a third since I’d first come there, but it still wasn’t that big. It was roughly the size of Fette, the Iron Horde’s capital, but unlike that capital this city represented all of Pott’s and its people, not just a single city.

I spent the week continuing this trend. Walking around the city, memorizing the streets and alleys, starting to avoid certain uneven steps automatically and knowing when certain smells would fill certain paths. The stares became less frequent as well. Either everyone had grown more used to seeing me, or they simply gained the sense that staring at something they’re afraid of isn’t the best idea.

At the end of the week, Nico came back from a trek to the nearest human settlement, Dirtcreek. She looked worried, which was an odd look for her, and didn’t waste time with hellos, which I appreciated.

“I got a message from Mercy. She says she has vital information for us.”

I nodded, and leapt up from my seat grabbing my hat and sliding on my pack before making my way to the door.

“You don’t want more information than that?”

I shook my head. “I’ve got to make my way back to where I first started on my trek across the Cut and send a message to Leah. From there they’ll pick me up, and I should be able to make contact with Mercy while I’m there. We’ve already spoken about how you pass information to her, so I already have a book to swap with her ready for when I arrive.”

Nico raised a nonexistent eyebrow. “You’ve been thinking about this, I take it?”

I nodded. “Not much else to do.” I said, eager to make my way back out into the wastes.

Before I could react, she wrapped me in a hug and squeezed me hard enough to break human ribs.

I stood there awkwardly for a few moments, and eventually managed to pat her twice on the back.

She gave me one more squeeze and released me. “Be careful. Come back safe.”

I nodded. “I know I haven’t said it yet, but thank you for all you’ve done while I’ve been gone…Would you…consider stopping?” I asked. “I know I deputized you, but… You don’t have to keep doing the work.”

She smiled. “No. I’m not going to stop.”

I tilted my hat. “You come back safe too.”

She nodded, and I walked away, making my way to the edge of Pott’s.

…

I felt at ease back on the road, my hat keeping the sun from my eyes and the familiar weight of my pack on my back. I made it back to where Graves dropped me off in the shrike and sent Leah a message.

I’m back.

Followed by my coordinates. After less than a minute I received a response.

Stand by. Retrieval imminent

I sat, taking out my canteen and sipping from it while I waited. I pulled up my Citizen Sheet to pass the time.

6th Level Postman/ 7th Level Marshall

Patriot Points: 1745

SPINES: Be the backbone of America!

Strength- 32

Perception- 23

Intelligence- 17

Nationalism- 4

Endurance- 29

Speed- 23

Job Abilities:

Neither Rain, Sleet, or Snow: You are unhampered by adverse weather

Express: You gain a 5% bonus to movement speed

Special Delivery: You can mark a delivery ‘special’ which will allow you to track it.

Handle with Care: When dealing with a fragile load, activate this ability to steady your hands and arms, to ensure safe delivery.

Under Cover: You may retain your previous class and those with the ability to read previous classes will see whichever class you choose to show.

You're Under Arrest: You may temporarily remove all job based bonuses from a target to ease apprehending them. This person will be highlighted in your vision while this ability is active.

Freeze: Incapacitate a single target for one minute.

The Eyes of the Law: Detect another citizen’s job.

Federal Authority: You cannot be affected by the abilities of others unless you choose to be.

Lie Detector: Monitor other heart rate and physical state to determine whether or not they’re lying.

Skills:

Walking- 38

Pistol- 16

Loading/unloading- 25

Customer Service- 15

Driving- 7

Melee Weapons- 15

Long Guns- 17

Investigation- 17

Tracking- 11

Virus:

Deadman- Bonus to all physical stats +10, negative to social based skills

Natural weapon- Teeth

Night Vision

Perfected Healing

Enhanced Stamina

Adaptive Empowerment

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I’d never sat on as many Patriot Points as I had in that moment. I was, by wastelander standards, rich beyond imagining. Assuming the person I was bartering with accepted Patriot Points rather than goods only, as sometimes happened. I’d need to bring a heavy list to Murphy’s next time I was in that area. I still had three abilities that remained hidden to me, likely granted by the bite I’d taken from the First in Eden. Based on what I’d learned in the R.A.S. bunker they may have been hidden because the system didn’t yet parse what they were, which meant they could be active without me even realizing it.

I felt a shift in the air, and turned my attention to the sky to see a shrike slowly descending toward me. It landed silently and its door slid open to reveal Graves in the pilot seat. He gestured for me to get in, and I complied.