Deadman

The trip back through the wastes to Fette was maybe the easiest journey I’ve ever been a part of. I rode at the head of a massive convoy of trucks, motorcycles, and anything else that could be cobbled together with scrap metal and wheels, as we roared across the wastes.

I avoided conversation for the most part, which given my appearance wasn’t a difficult thing to manage, though I did occasionally share words with Angela. We camped only once during the trip, a convoy as large as ours burned through fuel quickly and they preferred to take one large refueling stop rather than several smaller ones as had been the case when I’d ridden with Angela’s patrol. The break was spent carousing as much as anything, with Atlan being celebrated for her survival and victory by her people. She also spent a rather long time in a tent alone with the former king of the Rens, soon to be vassal of the horde. I wasn’t sure if they were talking or pursuing other things, but either way I made the continued conscious decision that it should not be my problem.

By the end of the day we made it back to Fette, and there was a large amount of engine revving and hollering filling the streets as we arrived. We rode straight through the town and into the Khan’s tent where Atlan went and stood proudly before her father, the King standing behind her with his eyes facing the ground.

The Khan stood from his table and walked to the edge of the platform to look over his daughter, her prize, and the rest of us. I could see one of the older wives standing just slightly behind him and beaming with pride.

The Khan looked at his daughter. “Atlan. What do you have to say and report?”

This was theater, I realized, as I watched him address his heir. There was no way a runner hadn’t already made his way back here to the Khan and given him all the information on what had transpired. It was smart, he clearly favored this daughter and this was a good way of showing that favor without being too direct about it.

“Khan, I have traveled deep into the black woods. I found the source of the disappearances within, as well as a settlement of people who live behind walls of Stone. I have captured their leader, and brought him before you to swear fealty.”

Atlan’s large male bodyguard pushed the king forward and made him kneel. The Khan leapt down from his platform and stood above him.

“What is your name?” he asked.

“I am the king of the Rens,” he replied, looking up at the king with the first bit of spine I’d seen from him since he’d been captured.

“That is your title, and you may keep it at my discretion, but I asked for your name.”

The King continued to meet his eyes. “Leroy.”

“Leroy, do you swear to provide tribute to the Iron Horde? To honor us and be a part of our glorious Khanate?”

He looked down. “I do.”

The Khan lifted Leroy up by the shoulders and embraced him. “Then welcome. You are no longer a prisoner, but a guest. You will eat at my table today and be treated as a brother.”

Leroy looked surprised, but nodded, and was led to the Khan’s table by one of the wives.

The Khan turned his attention back to his daughter. “You have done the Horde a great service in conquering this new territory and surviving the dangers of the black woods. I grant you fifty new vehicles and riders, and allow you access to the garage of your choosing. I will also grant management of this new territory to you. If you manage to build it up, other territories may be placed under your control.”

Atlan bowed, deeply. “Thank you Khan. It is an honor to serve.”

He nodded. “You are dismissed. See to your fleet.”

She bowed again, turned, and left. I noted that she was not offered a seat at the table, but given that the Khan already likely knew the situation between her and Leroy it was a wise choice. Aside from that, her eating at his table would’ve also showed clear favoritism, which would’ve gone against the Horde’s beliefs in meritocracy.

The Khan turned his attention to me, and approached. He was one of the only people I’d met that was tall enough to look me in the eye directly.

I didn’t bow, and instead simply met his gaze.

“You have returned the missing patrol to the horde, aided in the capture of a new settlement, and slain many great beasts in the process.”

I nodded, saying nothing, though I found myself flinching internally when he spoke of me assisting with the capture of a new settlement.

“You have gone beyond even what I asked of you, despite the fact that I believed your chances of survival to be minimal.”

“You’re not the first,” I said.

That provoked a smile from him, the first I’d seen grace his face. “I grant you my authority to act as a Marshall within all the lands the Horde controls. No settlement can deny your position and your enemies are our enemies.” He nodded at something behind me and I saw a man covered in gear jewelry approach.

He handed me a bundle of cloth. I unwrapped it, and inside I found a replica of my Marshall badge, but instead of the star being ringed in a simple circle, it was instead a star within a gear, the symbol of the horde. I removed the old star from my chest and pinned on the new one.

The Khan spoke again. “Because you have gone beyond what was initially asked, I offer you something beyond what I initially promised. Two favors, one large, and one small. To be used by you whenever you desire them.”

That was surprising. I was used to having rewards be less than I wanted, not more than I’d hoped. A large and a small favor was also an interesting thing to be given. It felt like a test. He wanted to see what I considered a large favor and what I considered a small one. Considering his opinion of himself, or at least the one he wanted the Horde to have, I figured even a small favor from him was likely something that would be considered huge by anyone else. It was clear I had time to think about it, but rather than wait, I realized I already had something I wanted.

“I already have a small favor I could ask, if you’ve got the time to hear it.”

The Khan raised an eyebrow, but nodded.

…

It was midday by the time I reached the place where the small favor I’d requested would be performed. I stood by the black boxes that Springfield had placed so far from their walls to put the newly dead in for the Undertakers to recover. I was on a motorcycle, flanked by two others, and behind us rode three trucks with .50 Caliber machine guns mounted to them. I rode the rest of the way up to the gate, and fired my pistol in the air once to get the attention of those manning it. A few moments after I’d fired, three men appeared at the top of the gate.

The one in the lead spoke up. “We just gave a tribute a week ago. We don’t owe nuthin now.”

“Open the doors or we blast them down,” I yelled, giving the gate a firm kick with my boot to emphasize my point.

I heard some cursing from above me, but it was only a minute later that the gate swung open and let us through. We drove the short distance from the gate to the town, and by the time we’d arrived a small group of men with guns was there to meet us. One of them, a man with a long handlebar mustache, stepped in front of the others.

“Now, what’s all this about? We’re up to date on our tribute, and we haven’t called for assistance with anything. If you’re here to round up any engineers or soldiers we got, you took em all the last time, we ain't got none left.”

I took this moment to remove my bandana and goggles. That drew a gasp from everyone, and the man with the mustache took an involuntary step backwards. “I’m not here for tribute,” I said, stepping off my bike and drawing a long noose from my belt.

The man managed to find his spine long enough to talk again. “Hey now, we don’t let none of you deadmen into our town. You best turn around and get out of here.”

One of the men who’d ridden next to me on his bike stepped forward and smacked the man with the back of his hand. “You’re speaking to a marshall who acts with the authority of the Khan. No towns are closed to him.”

The man brought his hand to his face, his eyes practically bulging from his head. “A deadman marshall. There’s just no way.” He looked at me more closely, and his eyes widened.

I assumed he’d just used a skill to determine my job, and in doing so he managed to confirm his own for me.

“You the mayor?” I asked.

“Ye-Yes, I-I am.”

“You the one that decided it was okay to leave baby deadmen out in a box in the hot sun with no food, water, or comfort?”

“We-well I just. They’re not allowed in here. I mean…what we’re doing is merciful. We used to just kill em.”

I walked towards him. Several of his men went to raise their guns, but they were stopped by the sound of a 50. Cal swinging in their direction. The man stumbled as he backed up, and I gripped him by the collar and lifted him, placing the noose around his neck and tightening it before dropping him and dragging him by it toward my bike. He was kicking and screaming the whole way, but I didn’t let that stop me. I tied the other end of the rope to my bike, and revved the engine. I heard a few more protests and then I started driving. I passed through the gate and made a long leisurely trip around the walls of the town, letting Springfield hear their mayor’s screams as I did so. When I was certain they’d all heard it, I gunned the engine to make sure the man was dead. After that I drove back through the gate. I untied the now mangled corpse from the back of my bike and dragged it into the center of the town. I looked out on the people who’d gathered from the noise.

“Listen up!” I yelled. “From now on, you take care of any deadmen born here until the undertakers arrive. You let them in through the front gate, and you thank them for the pleasure of their company.” I cast a long sweeping glance over all of them. “If you find out a neighbor has harmed a young deadman, you will be rewarded for telling the horde what occurred, but if you harm them then I will pay you another visit, and next time it won’t just be your mayor.” I walked back through the town, got onto my bike, and left. The patrol that had come with me, followed closely as we returned to Fette. The small favor I’d requested of the Khan had been to borrow his men and authority for that visit, the large favor, of course, had been the bike.