Deadman

I took the kettle off the burner and poured it into the mug in front of me. I had to compensate a little as I poured for the gentle bounce of my boat on the water. I took out a pack of military ration instacaf and poured it into the steaming water, then stirred it gently with a small spoon I kept on the counter for just that purpose. I lifted the mug and took it out onto the deck, enjoying a nice long sip as I stepped into the sunlight.

It was a clear day so far, aside from the green crackling mist that drifted gently above the water. I listened for a while to the sounds of frogs and crickets greeting the day, and just stood and enjoyed the warmth seeping into me from the sun as well as the radiation that surrounded me.

I lived in what was basically my own personal deadzone. Between postman runs and courier missions I used to explore and map the different zones, marking what made them dangerous aside from the high levels of rads, and passing that information on to guides and Undertakers. When I’d first found this one, a medium sized lake in the middle of a forest, I’d found a decently sized houseboat still floating on the water and decided to make it my own. It had taken some time to make it work. I’d started with a leaky old nuclear gen that a settlement was more than willing to let me have, some lumber, and some wax to seal and patch the surprisingly minor damage it had sustained. After that I started filling it with rations, a rain catcher, and any tea and coffee I could scrounge up to make it livable. Once I was certain I could stay in it for decent chunks of time I began bringing scavenged books, computer parts, and especially maps. The majority of the walls were covered with maps that were themselves covered in markers and notes. I’d spent a large chunk of the previous day updating them with what I’d seen, and mentally placing the markers I’d seen in the Porteau bunker on their appropriate spots in relation to my other notes.

Living in a deadzone wasn’t exactly safe. There were a fair number of hostile animals in residence all around me. Gus in particular, my neighbor in the lake, had been a real problem when I’d first arrived, but we’d come to an understanding since then. As long as I tossed a mutated deer his way every once in a while, he left me alone. Overall all of the dangers of a deadzone were still less than the danger that the average waster represented. It was much harder to deal with a group of mean bastards with guns than a giant gator, at least in my experience. Gus tended to be better to talk to too.

I’d had a hard route, and likely wouldn’t be able to run it again, at least not without skipping over Kind entirely, which wasn’t really viable. I’d had to leave Kind in a hurry. After I’d killed Boss I just took advantage of the chaos his confession and death had caused and hauled out of there as quickly as possible. I’d had to kill one more guard on the way out. The whole experience had left a bad taste in my mouth. All the more reason to take a short visit home.

I did finish the remainder of deliveries on the rest of the route, which had yielded a healthy amount of PP. Between that, the PP I’d earned from completing my investigation, and the skill ranks I’d earned I’d had perhaps the most successful route of my life, aside from all of the death and destruction. I pulled up the R.A.S.

Citizen: Donovan

5th Level Postman/ 2nd Level Marshall

Patriot Points: 582

SPINES: Be the backbone of America!

Strength- 21

Perception- 16

Intelligence- 11

Nationalism- 3

Endurance- 23

Speed- 17

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.

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

You're Under Arrest: You may temporarily remove all job based bonuses from a target to ease apprehending them.

Freeze: Incapacitate a single target for one minute

Skills:

Walking- 34

Pistol- 9

Loading/unloading- 22

Customer Service- 13

Driving- 3

Melee Weapons- 4

Long Guns- 5

Investigation- 7

Tracking- 2

Virus:

Deadman- Bonus to all physical stats +5, negative to social based skills

Natural weapon- Teeth

Night Vision

Accelerated Healing

That progress felt good. The Freeze ability in particular would be incredible, though if that’s what had been used on me that meant it wasn’t exactly perfect. Still, I felt stronger, more effective than I was before. I’d managed to do more as a Marshall in only a little over a week than I’d ever managed as a courier. It had been bloody, and dangerous, and I’d had to settle for vengeance over real justice, but that was a helluva lot better than nothing.

When I’d gotten to the town nearest my deadzone, Jasper, I put out feelers to trade my route for someone else's, but I hadn’t heard anything yet. I’d also left a signal for the Undertakers that I wanted to make contact with them. I probably wouldn’t be able to work as a postman for a while, so it seemed like it was the time to take Leah’s advice and make contact with the Horde.

After I finished my coffee I went inside, made a second cup. Then I grabbed some ration biscuits I’d found in another deadzone, and a book before climbing onto the roof where I’d set an old pool chair. I let out a long sigh and opened it to the first page. It had been a long time since I’d taken a break, and with my recent experience it felt more well earned than ever before.

“Donny!”

I jumped out of my chair, leapt down onto the deck, drew my pistol and took cover behind the reinforced boat railing. On the other side of the lake stood Deux, a wide sharp toothed grin on his face and a clawed hand up and waving. Why did it have to be Deux?

I stood and holstered my pistol. “Was the hole in your shoulder not enough to keep you from creeping up on me?”

His grin widened. “The look on your face when you saw that bullet hole." He shook his head and chuckled. "Funniest shit I’ve ever done.”

My frown deepened, and I took a deep breath to regain my composure. “You could’ve died.”

“That’s part of what made it funny.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a black bandana and waved at me. “I got your signal.”

“Great.” I moved to the side of the boat and began pulling a rope I’d attached from the boat to a tree on the other side of the lake. I’d rigged it up to a small raft to make it easier to move things to and from the boat.

Deux hopped onto the raft, and I pulled him back over to the boat. He hopped over the railing and took a deep breath through his lack of nose. “You have coffee? I thought most settlements’ stores were out.”

“I found an old ration supply in a deadzone closer to Fette.” I climbed back up to the top to retrieve my biscuits and mug.

Deux eye my mug greedily. “Been a long time since I’ve had a cup.”

I took a nice long sip and gave a smile with all my teeth. “That must really suck for you.”

That finally dropped his grin a couple notches, but I knew from long association that there was no real getting rid of it. He leaned back against the railing looking over the lake toward the treeline. “I would’ve come to talk to you even without the signal. The Honored Dead are worried about you. They’ve heard some rumors.”

I dipped a hard biscuit into my coffee and bit into it, keeping my face impassive. “Rumors?”

“A deadman apparently saved a group of people kidnapped at Boon. Killed an entire raider camp in the process.”

“Really?”

He nodded, looking back at me. “Another deadman apparently declared himself a Marshall and killed the mayor of a town called Kind.”

“Hmm, not very ‘kind’ of him.”

That got a grimace out of him. “Things got so bad there that the Horde sent men to intervene.”

Now that was information I hadn’t had. Something I’d have to keep in mind when I introduced myself. “Huh.”

“You’re the only Deadman we know of that works this area aside from Nico, and I already ran into her. Her route goes in a different direction.”

I took another sip. “You already know it was me.”

“Yes, but I need details. You start by giving me those, and after that you can tell me what you wanted to see an Undertaker for.”

I walked into the boat, grabbed a couple of folding chairs and dragged them out to the deck. Then I gestured for him to sit. He took out a hand rolled cigarette I could smell a faint smell of redeye on, and lit it as he sat. I suppose that was about as good as coffee. After that I told him what I’d been up to for the last several weeks. My initial trip to Kind, the deadzone, the marshall, Boon, and what I’d done to Boss. I left some parts out, like the system message and Leah, but everything else felt like it would be important for Pott’s Field to know about.

When I was done, he took one last long drag on his cigarette and smiled. “You’re the last one I’d have expected to be making waves like this.”

I leaned back in my chair and nodded. “I’m the last one I’d have expected too.”

“You know they want us to stay under the radar. They teach it to everyone who leaves. If we’re threatening, it can be dangerous. The deadmen that are born… settlements may not let them live long enough for us to take them. They may not trust us to come close enough to take them.”

“I remember...”

“Still… I understand the temptation. And it’s not like any of us has ever been a Marshall before. I have to tell the Honored Dead of course, but I’ll paint it pretty for you.”

“You should know I’m not planning on lying low from here on. If something pisses me off, I’m taking care of it.”

Deux scratched his chin, his smile actually got wider. “Well, I’ll at least cover for you this time. Next time you may be on your own.” He pulled out another smoke and lit it. “So, now that’s out of the way. Why’d you need an Undertaker?”

“I need to get into Fette. Introduce myself to the Khan. You collect kids at Fette right?”

He nodded. “We do. Why do you need to meet the Khan though? Is it a part of the Marshall job?”

“Something like that.”

“You’re in luck. We need another gun with us for the route. One of the new guys got skittish about being outside of Pott’s Field and ran back. You already know the job too. It’ll be a long trip to Fette though, roundabout to hit all the settlements on the way.”

“Works for me. I don’t exactly have a deadline.”

“I do have one condition though.”

“What?”

“A cup of coffee you ugly bastard.”