Deadman

By late morning we were on the road. The wagons moved at a steady pace, kicking up only a bit of dust, and the warmth of the sun was slowly dispelling the chill of morning. At the first fork in the road one of the wagons broke off, and at the second fork the other did. I stayed in the one with Deux, and alternated between sitting up front at the reins with him and finding a corner in the wagon between cribs to read. Our wagon hadn’t picked up any little ones yet so I wanted to enjoy the relative quiet while I still could.

The others, aside from Deux, left me alone and played cards or chatted with one another. I had the impression that it was a closely knit group. I remembered the brief time I’d spent with an Undertaker caravan before I’d decided to leave Pott’s for good. Hard not to develop a little closeness after all that time in close quarters. Well, it was hard for me, but for the average deadman? Seemed to come naturally to them.

When Deux wanted to jump into the card game I took over the reins for a little while. I’d driven a cart before, but walking had always been my default. Made the most sense for me, I always had my legs with me after all. After a couple of hours I got a notification.

Congratulations Citizen! You have earned a rank in Driving! From wagons moving us toward our manifest destiny to the model T, American progress is always driven forward.

Not the most useful skill for me, but since I was heading into Iron Horde territory it had a much higher chance of proving useful than usual. I was getting nearer to the first settlement stop on our trek, Tilly. I knew the area pretty well, so I didn’t need Deux to tell me which roads to follow. When the town came into sight I gave a solid knock on the bench to call let them know. Deux, and the woman that had spoken up when I was introduced came out to the front.

“See that big wooden box over there?” Deux pointed at what looked like a long wooden box that had been painted black.

I nodded.

“Pull up right next to it.”

I did and everyone slipped out of the caravan, guns ready, and took places all around the wagon and the box. I took their cue and slung my rifle down, sweeping around for any potential ambush. “What’s with the box?” I asked taking position next to Deux.

Rather than answer he opened the box. It was lined with blankets, and inside was the naked form of a baby. He already had a mouth full of sharp teeth, and when the light hit him, he opened his yellow eyes and let out a kind of whimpering cry. He was emaciated, and I could see a few small cuts on him. The woman reached down and picked him up, rocking him gently while making soft soothing sounds. She made her way straight to the safety of the wagon with him.

Seeing the state of the child made me grip my rifle so tightly it made a kind of straining sound. I looked up at the walled off settlement and took a step toward it.

Deux grabbed my shoulder before I could take another step.

I whipped around to face him.“They put babies in boxes? They can’t even be bothered to take care of them until you get here?” I asked. I’d never seen a situation like this when I was with the Undertakers.

His grip tightened on my shoulder. “They used to just kill them. You go over there and start something, and that’s what they’ll go back to.”

I gritted my teeth. “If I do what I want to do right, the ones that are left won’t ever hurt one of them again.”

Deux looked surprised, but shook it off quickly. “I’m not risking it. You want me to get you to Fette? You drop it.” He stepped up and looked up at me. He was tall, but not tall enough to meet my eyes directly.

I let out a breath. “Fine.” I made my way back to the wagon, but took a moment to commit Tilly to my memory. I was remembering why I left the Undertakers in the first place.

When I entered the wagon I saw the woman holding the deadman baby, now swaddled in black cloth, and feeding him from a glass bottle filled with a reddish brown mixture I knew to be blood and milk. I returned my rifle to my back and approached her. “How’s he doing?”

She looked up, a little surprise on her face. “He’ll be okay. He’s hungry, but our young are stronger than theirs.”

I nodded, went to my pack, and pulled out a little hunk of lizard tail I had left and walked back to her. “Give him some of this. It’s deadzone meat, I’m sure he’ll enjoy the rads.”

She gave me a sharp toothed smile and took it. Unlike the child, her eyes were black, and I could feel them look me up and down. “You’re not what I expected.”

I shook my head. “I promise I am.” I started walking back to my corner of the wagon.

“I’m Rhea by the way.”

I turned and gave a little tip of my hat in acknowledgement before sitting down and putting my face back into my book. Eventually everyone else filed in and the wagon started moving again, familiar noises of the horse trotting and the wagon shifting now broken up by the soft snoring of the deadman baby sleeping in its crib.

…

It was late evening when we’d arrived at the next settlement. I could tell even at a distance that this was the wild settlement Deux had told me about. Dead trees covered the area, and tied to them were massive tarps that acted as roofs for the community. I saw large game being cleaned, furs being tanned, women working with cotton to weave clothing, and men with tattoos of radiation symbols on their necks wielding everything from heavy clubs to street signs sharpened to spears.

When our caravan came into view I saw the village stir, and a number of the people began moving very quickly around. I could hear whistling and other noises that I assumed were being used by them to signal our approach.

Deux stopped the caravan and about half of us hopped out. I considered staying with the caravan, but I was curious. I’d not encountered a lot of wild settlements, and each of them tended to be very different from the others. Everyone removed their face coverings, and Deux indicated I do the same so I pulled off my goggles and bandana.

As we approached the settlement, we were ourselves approached by a number of the men with nuclear symbols on their necks that was led by a man with the same symbol across his chest, and wearing headdress made of what looked like the skull of some massive beast where all the teeth had been carved out and replaced with bullet casings. He himself was almost tall enough to look me in the eye, but also nearly three times as wide as I am.

I expected them to approach Deux, but instead they made a beeline straight for me. They bowed and the man in the lead spoke a string of words that sounded like english mixed with chewing mud. I had no idea what he was saying. I looked over at Deux, who was smiling, amused at what was happening.

He spoke in their direction, using the same language and they gestured to me. The leader nodded and sent two of his men back toward the settlement. After they left, he and his men began a kind of low chanting, creating a deep reverberation in the air. When the other men returned they each were carrying two deadman babies, one in each arm. They knelt in front of us and presented them.

I took the nearest one, careful to support its head. Unlike the one we’d picked up in Tilly these were all well fed, clothed, and content. I flashed my teeth at the one I was holding, which prompted a kind of giggle growl from him. After that Deux turned us around and we left, as the men behind us continued their chanting.

I turned over the babe to another man who was headed into the wagon and turned to Deux with a raised eyebrow.

He turned his smiling face to me. “Those were the Kaijin. Their language is…challenging.”

“And the chanting?”

“They think we guard their afterlife. When deadman children are born they consider it a blessing and believe that they were born to protect them from demons after they die. They have a high rate of them too. The chanting is them praying.”

“Why’d they talk to me?”

“They said you’ve got the bearing of a chief.”

I shook my head “Not very good judges of character.”

He nodded. “No, but their virtues definitely outweigh their faults. No more stops today. We’re going to meet up with another of the wagons and from there we’ll keep going south.”

After a few more miles of driving we set up camp. After a few hours of waiting for the other wagon to join us I could feel a kind of tension from the others. I managed to pick up by eavesdropping that the other wagon usually beat this one to the rendezvous. One of the lookouts pointed in the direction the wagon would’ve been coming.

“Smoke and dust. Something is coming our way!”

I pulled out my rifle. Seemed like it was time for me to earn my keep on this trip.