《Tear》


 1 Budding sapience

    ¡°No!!!¡± the scream was something I could understand. It was language instead of a primal howl! I stopped, my hand tight around the neck. A boy''s neck.


    Something slammed into the side of my knee and I toppled to my right, the force of the blow rolling me over.


    ¡°Run boy!¡± screamed the man raising the metal pipe as he dragged the boy away from me.


    Those words too I could understand. The burning hunger- the need- was still there but something pushed back at the fog. Things were suddenly more than they had been before. My head rang with pain. Perhaps he had struck me there with the pipe?


    The man with the pipe was a greater threat, and larger mass, and as he stepped over the boy my decision was made for me. He didn''t advance though as I began to scramble towards him on my hands, my working leg thrusting me forward when it could.


    ¡°Run!¡± the boy screamed.


    I turned to look past the man, but I only caught sight of a leg as the boy raced around a corner.


    ¡°Run!¡± he screamed again from deeper in the house.


    When I turned back the pipe wielder¡¯s face was bloodless. He screamed as his backpedaling caused him to trip over one of the fallen raiders.


    I hadn¡¯t stopped my powerful scrambling towards him with my three working limbs even as I followed the boy''s fleeing progress.


    Hunger drove me to to the raider the man had tripped over, though I was wary of the pipe.


    My hands exposed the flesh of the dead man¡¯s neck by gripping his shirt near his chest and his chin and pulled them apart so that the neck arched up.


    I watched the pipe in the wielder¡¯s hands as he scrambled backward.


    My teeth were made for this. Millions of years of evolution and a few thousand years of science, technology, and the psychology of war had given me teeth perfect for the tearing and rending of flesh, not that I knew of that when I bit and tore. All I knew was hunger, all I was was hunger.


    Even after eating and eating and eating, my stomach full to bursting, my jaw muscles aching with exhaustion the hunger still drove me.


    Memory as a concept wasn¡¯t something I understood. I lived in the now. Sometimes the now was longer than other times.


    This now stretched and stretched.


    It had started with loud cracks, booms, and screams. The scent of blood and gunfire and death filled the air. And then I ate. Sometimes I had to chase but most of the time I only left the food when someone attacked.


    As I gulped the torn flesh down I forced my damaged leg out straight. There was pain of a sort, but it was needed pain if it was to heal.


    I heard the screams calling for the, "Eastern Rally Point," but my gut told me that was likely a ruse.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    My fingers worked at buckles and buttons and straps. I could chew through the clothing but my fingers and teeth knew what to do. I vaguely remembered the teeth being pulled. Small flashes of memory, over and over as the teeth were pulled.


    I had parts of the collar bone and shoulder exposed when my gut told me I was full to bursting. I opened my mouth and let the flesh I¡¯d torn drop free mid-chew.


    I hungered for something else.


    It had been a long time, the memories still shrouded in fog and darkness, since I¡¯d been full.


    I tried to stand, but putting weight on my knee caused me to collapse. I crawled over the body and out into the street. The street lights were off.


    I had vague memories of seeing them from the elevated position of the wall. The fog of clouded memory was strong, but I had the sense that none of this was new to me.


    There was power up there on the wall. That was what I was hungry for now. Power. Power that was always moving along the planks of metal forcing me to keep walking if I wanted to keep in contract with the energized planks.


    The hunger for power was greater than that for flesh, and least currently. When the power in the planks had cut out I¡¯d sought flesh.


    It had been abundant. The gunfire and screams indicated where the next pile of meat was.


    I couldn¡¯t remember the scent of brothers and yet they were there, faces buried in the same piles of flesh I craved.


    There was a light, just down the street. A vehicle of some sort slowly coming to a stop. Not that any of the concepts like vehicle were whole in my mind.


    I knew it was metal with flesh inside. That it could move faster than I could and couldn¡¯t be damage by my teeth.


    I watched brothers rushing it, trying to get to the calories or power. they must not know of the hard outer metal, for many of them clawed at it and broke their teeth against it''s armor.


    There were gunshots and falling bodies, but I didn¡¯t stop my speedy crawl.


    There were more gunshots now and grunting.


    Eventually something slammed into me, driving me down into the ground.


    I tried to scramble away, to bite and tear and get closer to the electric light.


    Only my mouth snapped and closed on nothing.


    I could look with my eyes, but all I wanted to do was track the light. Get closer to it. Feed upon it.


    I kept trying, even though nothing else was working.


    There was a type of pain in my neck. That white hot pain of healing. Like what happened when they plucked pulled my teeth.


    The sun rose.


    I checked, making sure the powerful light source wasn¡¯t electric in nature, but it continued to be the sun. Still I couldn¡¯t reach the light on the vehicle just a few meters in front of me. Nothing below my mouth worked and the white-hot fires of healing scalding the back of my neck were not subsiding.


    Someone was moving to my right. I¡¯d broken down the calories from the previous meal already so I switched targets hoping they came within range of my teeth.


    It was an older man, the wrinkles of his face caked with grime.


    ¡°Kenzi! Get over here!¡±


    He had a long metal pipe in his hand. There was a faint memory of other times pipes had been used against me.


    Someone else arrived.


    I could feel them coming closer even though I couldn¡¯t see them.


    ¡°Bloody chromed vamp Twelver isn¡¯t it?¡± the pipe man asked.


    ¡°Fuck,¡± the other human said. They had a large motorcycle helmet on their head and a thick leather jacket with a high collar.


    ¡°Pull the teeth and call everyone back.¡±


    ¡°They haven¡¯t even begun to scavenge,¡± the pipe man said.


    My jaw worked faster as I strained. Now was my chance. He¡¯d looked away from me.


    I still wasn¡¯t moving closer, but I tried. ¡°The rest of these are class 1- dead farmers. That¡¯s a fucking world ender.¡±


    ¡°Kenzi we need the scrap for the quota, you know-¡±


    I could hear the pleading in his voice. I recognized that, though normally it was in the form of, ¡°no. No please!¡± as I came for them.


    There was a gun out and pointed at the man¡¯s head.


    ¡°Then we hit another settlement. There¡¯s never just one of them. Hell they could be laying in wait even now.¡±


    ¡°Those are stories-¡± his words stopped as the hammer clicked back.


    The gun swung down until I was looking down the barrel.


    It barked and pain brushed my left cheek, jaw, and ear.


    ¡°Get the teeth,¡± motorcycle helmet said as it bent closer, ¡°Pull the teeth,¡± it continued as the gun came much closer, ¡°and call everyone back-


    I didn¡¯t hear the gun go off or feel any pain.

 2 Atrophy

    Hunger wakes me, but there is nothing but unnatural darkness and nuclear fire painfully moving under my skin.


    The pain moves, but I do not. The hunger is there, a wild fire urging me to me move, to eat, but without an destination I burn with it, an itch that cannot be satisfied.


    Time flows around me, the light and dark of days and nights pass like memories I don¡¯t care to remember.


    Eventually the fog of my sight leaves and I can see something. Flesh!. The hunger drives me to move, but I cannot do more than twitch.


    Light and dark come and go, then I begin twitching. Then, eventually, I can suddenly move an arm.


    I pull the rotting flesh near me close enough to suckle on as only my lower teeth remain. It is soft and rotten enough I can pull it apart with my hand and force it into my mouth.


    The animals eating the flesh don¡¯t seem to mind my stuttering movements.


    Once my stomach is full the fire inside moves to my bloated stomach while I rest. The sun streaks across the sky then hides, then rises and streaks across the sky again. Over and over.


    When there is space in my stomach the hunger rises. I pull flesh from the rotting piles around me, swallowing until I¡¯m full to bursting.


    The insects that land to clean my face sometimes crawl within my mouth and I crunch down on them. When anything larger tries to eat me I kill it swiftly, or it gets away. I do not chase.


    Then I rest.


    The memories I don¡¯t really recall feature this situation often. This lethargic passing of epocs where I do nothing but eat and shit without moving until the food is gone.


    When it rains I turn enough to suck the water from the pooling puddles around me. Aware that my own filth is leaking into it, but not concerned enough to move.


    The fire is a slow thing, moving here and there internally. It''s rarely ever hot any more, but I still think of it as fire, for it can burn. A dull feeling of warmth somewhere and weakness in the rest of my body.


    Over time the world becomes sharper but it doesn¡¯t matter as there is noting to see but the passage of the sun overhead.


    Eventually the bodies around me are consumed or rotted away.


    When the hunger next rises. I get to my feet. I don¡¯t know why it¡¯s more efficient than crawling but it does use less energy.


    I see other bodies, rotting mounds of putrid flesh further down the street on the ground between buildings.


    It¡¯s a dead sprint and a slide directly into them as I gorge myself on the filth.


    Then a period of rest. Except as the sun sets there is light visible from this new position.


    A different type of hunger drives me. There are stairs involved and in my haste I slip and fall.


    At the top of the stairs I see a brother standing outside a closed door. His back is to me, and he is not looking my way, even after the noise I made getting here.


    He doesn¡¯t matter, not with the hunger upon me.


    I can remember moving with the packs, as one of them, and other time hunting them.


    In other memories I¡¯m being hunted by them.


    I never know if the brothers are hostile until they attack. But when I decide they have to die, they die.


    A new craving rises. This one is far weaker than the first two, but when I¡¯ve decided to kill them in the past it has risen. Sometimes it rises first, and I decide to kill because of it. I cannot tell which memory is more common because I can¡¯t control the memories. They wash over me, but I have no control.


    My teeth tear into the back of his neck, my hands tight on him as I chew and tear towards the tiny sweetness inside.


    It¡¯s as hard as a stone and with hair-like roots extruding from it. To get to it I follow the strands from the back of the neck in. I can¡¯t chew a hole large enough, so I smash the skull and peel it apart to get at the prize.


    I swallow and swallow and then then stop.


    I wait, staring up at the light streaming though the window above the door. The hunger for power still drives me but the fire inside had moved to my middle to do battle.


    The battle inside me is now more important than the other hungers.


    I should have chewed and killed it. I forgot, and now it fights me.


    Eventually it ends. I won, but at what cost. I¡¯m so tired. I killed inefficiently, wasted too many movements, didn''t crunch down on the stone before swallowing. Wasted more resources on a battle that didn''t need to happen.


    The door is unlocked and the lamp pulls off the wall easily trailing the electric cords like the data port trailed the hair-like strands.


    The cheap plasteel of the lamp¡¯s housing pulls apart in my hands.


    I smash the innards to expose things.Stolen novel; please report.


    My hands burn as they clamp down on the innards but I don¡¯t let go. The pain is what I¡¯m looking for.


    I¡¯m on fire again, though this time it¡¯s different. External. Painful in a way that means damage instead of healing. I move my fingers across the innards and the fire changes until it feels more right than wrong. It¡¯s a gut feeling I can¡¯t qualify but I find two places to grip where the pain seems most like what I need.


    Inside the fire begins to crystallize, moving though me. It¡¯s not a healing fire, nor doing battle. It spreads across my chest and reaches down each arm to the thumbs I have pressed into the metal contacts. It changes then. The fire becomes warm in a way I haven''t felt in a long time. It is a fire of creation and the forge.


    I¡¯m squatting when I get the gut feeling I should rest. Everything burns, but my shoulders still droop and my body begins to relax.


    Except for my hands, they still cling tightly to the innards of the lamp.


    In time a hunger begins to satiate. A hunger I¡¯ve had so long I can¡¯t remember a time without it. It is not the hunger for flesh, but it''s twin. The hunger least satiated.


    I wait there until there is a war between the hungers. When one over-comes the other I move, seeking reeking piles of flesh, or living creatures consuming the dead until the other hunger takes control and I move back to the room to press my thumbs into the innards of the lamp.


    It matters not to me if the blood is black and dried with disease and dehydration, or fresh and flowing with life. When I pass things that hold rain water I drink. It seems I am always thirsty now. Or healed enough to notice the thirst. I¡¯m never driven to find water, only to pause and consume it if I happen upon it.


    Sometimes I ignore the warnings and eat too much, throwing up that which I¡¯ve already consumed. I scramble then, with renewed need, to consume what I¡¯ve sicked up as if the animals and insects that scatter before me would instead swam and steal what I¡¯ve lost.


    In time I¡¯m no longer driven by gut instinct and need.


    Thoughts begin to rise up within me, glacial in both size and speed.


    One day, after I eat my fill I carry the flesh that hasn¡¯t rotted into goo back up the stairs to the room where the innards of the lamp wait.


    While I feast upon the lighting within the lamp I have the food close, so that when my body hungers I don¡¯t have to leave. I don''t recognize it as foresight and planning. There is no conscious thought involved. No evaluation and planning. It just seems like the thing to do.


    The planning was something different. A shift at a fundamental level. Something I hadn''t done in a long time, being driven only by the most powerful hunger and ignoring almost everything else.


    Now I feel the begins of a change. What that means is unknown and unknowable. It isn¡¯t something I dwell upon.


    The inner fires continue to burn moving around and eventually I am greeted with floating panels of light when the sun rises. They are easily dismissed, at first with rage-filled swipes and powerful screams, and then later with only the intent to remove them.


    I begin to wake from animal reactions to something else. It is a process that takes weeks, months.


    I notice things that have never mattered. The color of walls. An image of people in a frame. Glass that allows light to pass through without allowing rain.


    I notice the day and night, not as functional differences in how I have to hunt, but as aspects of time passing. It is a strange change. The strangest of all the changes.


    I was existing, and then I became the focal point between things that had happened and things that would happen. There was suddenly a defined past. Things that could not change, but that could be learned from. How the darker birds would hop once before taking flight. If I could get close enough to them before the hop, I could lunge and catch a wing.


    Future planning required study of the past.


    I changed much. I no longer simply wait for one hunger to overcome the other. I plan.


    The changes came slowly so that I did not notice any single change being the one that changed me. It started with thinking. With planning.


    Before I crouched and waited, then I was planning on how to trap creatures or put myself less at risk while hunting.


    Then I found myself with a stapler joining pieces of damaged clothing together so that the thorns outside the town would not tear my skin so easily. The healing fires within could heal the damage but it was a waste.


    I couldn¡¯t see the change, but I would have never thought of clothing as armor before, and then suddenly it seemed obvious.


    I passed by the scattered guns for months without even acknowledging they were there. Then in the span of three days I went from noticing them to picking one up.


    They had been no more interesting to me than rocks for the longest time.


    There were memories of being on both ends of the weapons. I collected some, it took time to sort out how to make them work and more time to find the bits that broke and became useless every time they did.


    The guns worked better than traps did.


    Then one morning, I did not immediately discard the floating screen before my eyes that appeared every morning.


    Words had begun to make sense again. The shapes on buildings or doors transforming into information. The screen also had words.


    My inner fires flared along my left arm and I scratched at it, the dry scarred skin there peeling away to expose the healthy pink moist skin beneath.


    When I first started scabbing up, I¡¯d been compelled to consume the larger flakes of scarred skin and scab, but now I let them fall.


    I had the meat from the last deer drying on racks in the next building. It had been a slow twisted thing. Huge with a second partial head and three extra legs growing from it¡¯s lumpy flesh.


    I didn¡¯t understand the words that floated before me so I willed them away.


    I scrapped the maggots and rot from a large piece of meat with a knife before I began eating. When I was full I drank water from one of the buckets.


    That had been the largest change in the last weeks. Now, instead of only storing food, I collected and stored water as well.


    I lifted the back of my dress up and tucked it over and behind my belt as I squatted over the roughly hacked hole in the floor.


    That too had been a large change. The realization that I was living in my own filth and waste. It had never bothered me before. And then, slowly, it began to.


    One of the hatchets had made easy work of the floor, and over time I forced the rest of the filth through the hole into the room below.


    Now I squatted over it, so that when I had to discharge my waste it dropped out of my way.


    I worked on the spears. The hatchet made points of the sheet metal roofing and time and effort with a heavy stone shaped the metal into spear heads.


    I had six already. Most of the guns had broken too much, the small parts that needed to be replaced after they fired were limited and soon used up.


    Change, ingenuity, and improvement, I would later learn, were a byproduct of necessity.


    I hunted when I needed food, I hauled water from the fountain to the room when the buckets and jars were empty, and I rested, the wires from the lamp-inners slid now into the port near my right hip.


    The inner fire had burned there for weeks until one day the skin itched fiercely and I clawed the scabs away. Beneath was a flat metal circle sitting flush with my skin.


    My gut knew what to do. Instead of holding the innards I tore them away from the thicker wire coming from the wall.


    I pushed the wires into the port until there was a clamping feeling of attachment.


    That first time I had rested there for a whole day and when the wires came free they were no longer loose, but had an exterior molding of the same plasteel some of the gun parts were made of.


    The new end fit only one way into the hole in my hip, which didn¡¯t bother me at all, at first.


    In the beginning I was over joyed to find I could use both hands for other tasks. But it later began to bother me.


    If there were only two wires, but only one way for the plug to slide in deep enough to be grabbed, why did it often take me three attempts to find the correct orientation?

 3 Winter

    <div>


    <table style="border-collapse: collapse; width: 29.2445%" border="1">


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    <td style="width: 100%">[This settlement is unclaimed. Do you wish to claim it?]</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


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    <table style="border-collapse: collapse; width: 12.1852%" border="1">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 100%; text-align: center">[Settlement Name?]</td>


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    </tbody>


    </table>


    <div>


    <table style="border-collapse: collapse; width: 22.1771%" border="1">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 100%">[Ed¡¯s Eatery?] - Available - Accept Name?</td>


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    </tbody>


    </table>


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    <table style="border-collapse: collapse; width: 42.9732%" border="1">


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    <tr>


    <td style="width: 38.4355%"> </td>


    <td style="width: 25.3902%; text-align: center">[Ed¡¯s Eatery]</td>


    <td style="width: 36.1742%"> </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 38.4355%">[No network invitations found.]</td>


    <td style="width: 25.3902%"> </td>


    <td style="width: 36.1742%"> </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 38.4355%">[No valid claims found.]</td>


    <td style="width: 25.3902%"> </td>


    <td style="width: 36.1742%"> </td>


    </tr>


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    </table>

 4 Power

    The second critical task was one that mattered.


    Once I cleared snow and ice off the solar panels, which were mapped out for me on various rooftops, the power provided by the lamp wires didn¡¯t die away completely at night any more. I didn¡¯t know how the power system worked, but it was clear enough after cleaning them, that the solar panels were a huge part of it.


    The female voice answered questions as best it could, though mostly it was hung up on not knowing this particular system. When I asked how it could know the system better I ended up surveying it. Following wires from the solar panel back to a building with thick metal doors.


    It ended up being easier to go through the wall with the pick-ax I found than going through the heavily secured metal door.


    There was a body inside. It had two guns, with ammunition I had used up long before I¡¯d worked out the capability to plan and hold materials back for times of greater need.


    I examined the body. A wound to the abdomen that hadn¡¯t healed up in time, though it was only a small finger-sized wound.


    When I cracked the skull open I found another implant. This one in a black semi-dried goo of desiccated brain matter.


    I ate it anyway as I still had a craving for them.


    The room itself housed many wires and metal boxes. I looked at everything first, then talked to the voice.


    Then I followed wires and eventually found a cabinet with large heavy devices labeled batteries. The cabinet was heated and when I asked why I was informed the cooler temperatures could damage the batteries.


    As I grew to understand the power system I first moved around town, turning lights off, first by unscrewing bulbs and then by flipping wall switches when I learned about them.


    A week or so later I learned about circuit breakers and disabled power to the whole settlement from the main breaker panel.


    By that time I¡¯d repaired the wall and insulated it as best I could with sheet metal roof panels and other material. The door, once the inner bar had been removed, was a much better way into and out of the small building.


    I cleaned the solar panels every other day unless there was a heavy deposit of snow that required immediate attention.


    I learned the system had default credit values assigned to various items. I still hadn¡¯t found a way to use currency, but I could now evaluate things to determine which was worth more.


    Why a neon sign would be worth far more than a kitchen knife I had no idea. The knife had many uses, while the sign did nothing but use up power that could be better used to feed me, or provide heat by cracking the battery cabinet doors open.


    The need for power suddenly died away, almost to nothing. It happened suddenly, without warning. One day my hunger for it stopped. I still plugged wires into my hip but I didn¡¯t feel a burning need for it any longer.


    Unless I was injured.


    While collecting items the system said were valuable a building collapsed. I was able to extract myself from the debris, but my right arm had been broken and the flesh cut and smashed.


    I ate until I was full, sipped water, and began to hunger for power for the first time in four days.


    The healing fires moved quickly.


    First my arm straightened and aligned as the fires focused on my bones. Then black spider webbing rose up from inside and the flesh was pulled together and began to knit.


    The black eventually receded and all that was left was the damage to the clothing I was wearing and a scab that revealed healthy skin beneath by the time it dried and flaked away.


    I had a hunger for power for only an hour or so more, and then that too dropped away.


    There were indications for the level of power contained in the batteries and while it had never broken twenty percent once I began noticing it, it now began to steadily climb.


    Even thought the winter days were short, neither I or the settlement was drawing power allowing the batteries to store more than was being discharged.


    A new critical task appeared one day having to do with the power system. It was to repair the batteries.


    When I sought more information I learned that I had little to do. I only isolated a battery by turning some switches and then indicated on the battery itself that it should go into repair mode by pressing and holding a button.


    This consumed a lot of energy over the course of four days. But the battery reported it was within ninety-four percent of factory specs when completed. It estimated it would last an additional twenty-three years before it''s integrity fell below ninety percent capacity.


    Eventually when the system stored enough power I was given the same task again, for a different battery.


    Eventually all sixteen batteries went through a repair cycle.


    One of the green system tasks was to [expand the power systems.] of the settlement. When I asked for help I learned about printers.


    ¡°Obtain material from system printers, traders with access to printers, or discarded printed components no longer in use.¡±


    Eventually a correctly worded question got me better answers.


    ¡°Where is the last system printer I''ve encountered.¡±


    ¡°Rose Garden Settlement is the last confirmed printer you¡¯ve encountered,¡± the voice said in my head.


    I paused as I was lining up my throw.


    One of the icons changed color as the small spear, what the system called a javelin, struck the animal in the side.


    I pushed up from the ground and sprinted forward.This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    I slipped and went down from time to time but that didn¡¯t matter, I could get up and follow faster than it could get away.


    Eventually the large treble hook on the end of the javelin caught on a smaller tree. The barbs in the flesh held for just a moment, and then gave way.


    Blood poured from the large wound as the animal staggered through the forest.


    It wasn¡¯t stagging because of anything I did. Not yet at least. Two of the five legs that it seemed to be standing on were shorter than the others. Another leg rose from the back and tangled in branches from time to time.


    Eventually the blood loss began to cause the creature to slow. It¡¯s breath coming out in long blasts of fog in the cold air.


    It turned a bit, two of the three eyes on this side of it¡¯s head were looking at me.


    It huffed and grunted as it rotated slowly around. I¡¯d been charged before, and it wasn¡¯t pleasant. I circled with it, having to move faster to stay on it¡¯s side but having no problem doing so.


    Eventually it began to slump, it¡¯s breathing still ragged, the steam still rising from the massive gash in it¡¯s side, the snow red with blood and trampled mud under it.


    When it stumbled to a knee, I knelt as well. No need to keep the animal panicking. I was happy to wait it out.


    Eventually the labored breathing stopped.


    I began counting.


    That too was a lesson I¡¯d learned the hard way. Even though it was dead, it didn¡¯t mean it was no longer a threat. At least for a time.


    I approached slowly, the other version three javelin in hand ready to throw.


    The first version had been based on what the voice could tell me of javelins, the second version had included a treble hook, whose design I¡¯d found in a paper book on fishing lures.


    This third version was better. The back two thirds of the javelin was a piece of wood that slid forward or back around the central metal shaft.


    I used rebar as there was plenty of it in the walls of the partially destroyed buildings.


    A hinge and pin kept the three metal hooks folded into the shaft.


    When the shaft stuck flesh the wooden sheath continued forward as the central shaft halted. That movement pulled the pins and cause the three metal hooks to fold out, ready to catch on trees or vines. The large barbs at the other end would rip and rend flesh leaving massive wounds that would bleed out an animal much faster than a simple spearhead would.


    The design was in the same book on fishing lures. This kind was meant to be pulled through thick seaweed and only deploy the hooks once the fill pulled back on the lure.


    Hunting after I¡¯d run out of bullets was particularly difficult. Some of the animals had multiple hearts, and occasionally multiple heads. They all needed blood to stay inside though. So if you could would them badly enough they would eventually fall.


    I freed up the hatchet when I got close enough and set to work on the upper spine. The animal never reacted as I hacked into the base of it¡¯s skull.


    Still it was better safe than sorry. These larger animals could do a lot of damage.


    I went back for the javelin and the sled, then spent several hours butchering the moose and loading the sled up with the still steaming flesh.


    The system had recommendations on how to level my Butchering skill, but they all involved stringing the animal up from some branches, and that was a lot of work, let alone a lot of time. For an animal this size it was impossible, it simply weighed too much.


    I worked as the howls approached, even as the first animal began circling. Only when there were enough of them for the yapping to start did I stop working.


    I tossed the last of the meat onto the sled, pulled the tarp over it and lashed it down quickly.


    These animals, a wolf-dog, or coyote-dog, or whatever they were or had once been, they were cowardly pack animals. None of them would attack before they had overwhelming numbers on their side. But once they did, they attacked and didn¡¯t stop until the whole pack was dead.


    I¡¯d grown used to them surrounding me, then the yapping, but they never attacked, so I always continued to work. Eventually I left them the carcass.


    Then one day they did attack, they wouldn¡¯t stop no matter how many of their small bodies I crushed, broke, or split open.


    I had to kill the whole pack.


    They didn¡¯t do much damage, but with enough of them I almost bled out before getting back to the settlement. It took me three days to heal and almost all the power the batteries had stored up.


    The good news was once they started eating, no matter how many continued to circle me, the rest would be drawn to the easy food.


    They never so much as looked at me, let alone followed me back to the settlement if they had food.


    I strained against the makeshift yoke of the sled, as such I was angled sharply forward, mostly looking down at the ground in front of me.


    From time to time I¡¯d look up, but mostly I didn¡¯t need to as I could just follow my own tracks in the snow to return.


    ¡°Hold up!¡± someone called.


    I was confused. Mostly because the voice was clearly a man, and partially because it came not from inside my head, but from without.


    I looked up to see three humanoids in bulky cold weather gear. Two of which had weapons pointed at me.


    ¡°Whoa there!¡± on of them called. The one on the right apparently from the steam that pressed out of his mask.


    His mask looked far more comfortable than the curtain I had ripped and re-purposed as a scarf.


    ¡°Easy now. Peace be upon you,¡± the man continued as I straightened up.


    Until this moment it had never occurred to me that other people could exist. I could see the error in that logic now of course. The people that had fled, the dead people in the streets, they all had to come from some where. The traders that would bring printed items to complete the settlement tasks had to come from some place that had printers.


    I just-


    I just had never thought about it. Not once.


    ¡°Whoa now brother,¡± the man continued, ¡°what you got there?¡±


    ¡°Meat,¡± I said speaking around the metal tube in my mouth. The steam of my breath pressing out of the scarf and fogging the thick goggles I wore.


    As I spoke I stepped back and out of the strap letting it fall on the ground in front of me.


    Mostly I breathed into and out of the bent plasteel tube to avoid fog on the goggles and ice on the scarf. Though I¡¯m sure steam pluming from beneath my chin had to look odd to them.


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±


    ¡°Meat!¡± I said louder, trying to speak around the tube more clearly.


    ¡°Meat? That¡¯s a burning big pile of it.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    The heads glanced at each other and then the rifle and the- cross bow, I was guessing the wooden and metal weapon was called, lowered.


    ¡°Well we saw the damage in town, noticed the settlement name change and these here tracks.¡±


    ¡°We saw your collection of trade goods and-¡±


    ¡°We didn¡¯t touch ¡®em¡± the man with the rifle added quickly.


    ¡°Saw them,¡± the other man repeated, ¡°then saw the tracks, and came out to find you. To trade. Peaceful like. Lot a loot there, a whole settlement worth looks like.¡±


    ¡°Not that we¡¯re accusing you of nothing,¡± the third man chimed in.


    ¡°No sir,¡± the first said, ¡°Plenty of settlements defend themselves and die to their wounds. Or happen to have a wanderer stumble in afterward.¡±


    ¡°You stumble in afterward? Town half looted, and just decide to stay?¡±


    ¡°I came,¡± I said slowly trying to remember how it happened, ¡°Killed a lot of them, and the rest left. Some didn¡¯t want to stop looting, but the ones with the vehicle did and they took the others.¡±


    ¡°Scared a whole raiding party off by yourself did ya?¡± the second man asked.


    ¡°Not that we don¡¯t believe it,¡± the first added quickly, ¡°Biggest man I¡¯ve seen outside the fighting pits.¡±


    ¡°Name¡¯s Thad,¡± the first one said. He reached a mitten out. I stepped over the leather strap and shook it. Then the other two hands when they made their introductions. There was a pause and I realized they were waiting for me.


    My name titled one of the display pages. I¡¯d found it as I explored the system.


    ¡°Pete,¡± I said opting to give them only my first name, as that is what they had done.


    One of the men did something with his hands, touching his chest, then goggles then mouth while another said, ¡°Fires man. We that far out from civilization they named you after one of the twelve?¡±


    ¡°The twelve?¡± I asked.


    The other man did the gesture again moving his hands over chest head and mouth.


    ¡°Let¡¯s get back before the night finds a way to stop us,¡± the first man suggested.


    ¡°Let me help you with that,¡± the unarmed man said as he tried to get under the leather strap to pull the sled.


    ¡°Holy fires,¡± he said as he strained, ¡°how in the hells did you haul this.¡±


    ¡°Just push harder,¡± I said.


    That got a brief laugh from Thad but he cut it short.


    ¡°Let¡¯s get back to the warm yeah?¡±


    I got under the strap, but even I had to rock the sled pressing into it hard then letting off a few times before I got it moving.


    ¡°Push from the back,¡± Thad said and the other two disappeared. The load did get easier to pull a moment later.


    ¡°What was it,¡± Thad asked.


    ¡°Moose,¡± I grunted out, the metal tube making the words echo a bit.


    ¡°It¡¯s a fucking monster is what it was,¡± one of the others said.

 6 Ravens Rest

    Finding the settlement was not difficult. It was where the map data said it would be, though the implant complained as I approached.


    ¡°Settlement feed signal expected but not detected. Is settlement within visual range?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Is settlement system active?¡±


    I paused in the act of getting free of the leather yoke.


    ¡°Unknown,¡± I said with a wide grin. There was no response from the voice as we temporarily switched roles.


    I left the sled where it sat and checked over the weapons I had on. Two pistols, one a revolver, and the other semi automatic where in hand-crafted holsters.


    I had the rifle on a home-made sling hanging down in front of me. The hatchet was in is own pocket sheath between my shoulder blades with the handle rising up over my shoulder and I held the crossbow.


    None of the three guns used the same ammo, but with all the guns behind me I had several extra magazines.


    The settlement looked abandoned.


    The huge poles that I assumed held a watchtower of some sort were charred timbers reaching into the sky.


    The main gate was closed, but there was a section of the wooden wall missing.


    As I studied the hole I concluded it had likely been pulled down.


    I was tired but not exhausted. Yet I realized now that once again I had failed to think things through.


    I had considered there might be more people here, so much so that I was not going to remove my goggles or scarf. Or if I did remove my scarf I would not show my teeth. But that had been the extent of my planning.


    I now realized the people here, if there were any, might shoot me on sight. Or the raiders could still be here.


    I circled the settlement looking for tracks. I found several days¡¯ old tracks that had been filled in by later snowfall, but only one of which looked even possible to be human.


    I reached the sled and then circled back around following my own tracks until I reached the set of tracks that might be human and followed them towards the settlement. Then reached the wall then wandered down into a low ditch where the heaping snow hid them as they headed back across the barren field.


    I entered Raven¡¯s Rest through a hole in the fence.


    I spent too long standing there, visible to anyone looking, as I studied the aftermath.


    The dead were stripped of clothing, and most stripped of flesh. They were little more than lumps under snow unless they were iced over and visible.


    The settlement had evidence of lots of gun fire.


    Anything easily carted off had been. Tables and chairs and light bulbs were still there, but nothing else was. Dishes were missing from kitchens and clothing and curtains from bedrooms.


    The jars of food I¡¯d found scatted or hidden around the settlement were gone. The building that housed the settlement system, batteries, and breakers was mostly empty. Wires hung inside but the hardware was all missing. Outside the wires that ran from that building to the other buildings had been cut and taken.


    Many of the solar panels were missing, but there were four that remained. Two on the top of a burned out building and two more on a hard to access roof.


    I moved through all the buildings, just to make sure there were no nests, then I hauled the sled close and carried some of the blankets into a building that had an interior room with a door that would close.


    In the day light I retrieved all four solar panels, though the two on the burned out building might not work. The forge had been cleaned out, but I did find a roll of the welding machine wire. I found two lighters and a hidden chest containing ammo and an old knife. Mostly I took the carpets and some of the larger chairs, the ones with the designs carved into them.


    The next closest settlement was Ironwell. And it made a triangle with Raven¡¯s Rest and my own settlement, but there was no road to follow to get to it from where I was.


    As I collected loose wire from the various homes and several of the breaker boxes I wondered if Ironwell would have people.


    I scouted Ironwell better, leaving the sled further away and circling the settlement looking for tracks.


    There were two large vehicles that had burned out here. Lots more bodies, in the hundreds if I had to guess, and absolutely nothing left. Not even light bulbs or carpets. Even bits of scrap metal like hinges or door pins had been taken.Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!


    By the time I returned to Ed¡¯s Eatery with the same sled I¡¯d been pulling I was confused about the whole experience.


    What had been the point?


    And if I¡¯d found people then what? Kill them? I couldn¡¯t eat with them for fear of them seeing my teeth.


    I could talk behind the scarf, but about what?


    I asked the system how to install the solar panels I brought back and received a very complex answer.


    I had to map the current wiring system out and examine hardware in the power building, to which I was informed the system was already ten percent over rated capacity.


    I attempted to wire myself directly to the panels, but the fire inside had to build something under my skin to accommodate the different type of power. I didn¡¯t understand what that meant, but two days later, when the fire was no longer centered on my hip everything seemed to work.


    With the two panels wired together, and resting without motion, I could charge up five percent in a day.


    It began raining occasionally, and then, for about fifteen days straight, there was nothing but rain.


    I filled the meat room with geese when thousands++ of them landed in and around the settlement. I didn¡¯t even collect them that first day, just loaded the crossbow and fired, over and over. Even when some flew away, I could target others and by the time I swung back, more had landed.


    I had thirty four bolts and I had thirty kills. Though I only recovered twenty-seven of the bolts afterward.


    It was another thing I should have known before learning it the hard way. If I shot from the rooftop down into a goose, the powerful crossbow drove the bolt down through the goose and into the muddy ground. That was fine when the goose carcass was directly over the bolt, but many of them moved, or bled out elsewhere making the bolt difficult to find.


    I saw people while I was hunting. There were three of them. One with a bow and two others with long spears with no spear tips.


    They smelled of blood, fever, and infection.


    No one shot at me and so I didn¡¯t shoot at them. I did go back the next day and try to follow their tracks, but after following them for half a day I realized they had likely left the area for good.


    Again I wondered why I didn¡¯t leave. It wasn¡¯t as if I didn¡¯t consider it. I could go back, tracing the parts of the map that were grayed out, presumably discovered by me, which I didn¡¯t remember ever walking through.


    I could look for a printer to complete Settlement Tasks. Or maybe find a trader for the same purpose.


    One day, after I woke but before I had fully dressed, I realized an icon had shifted from gray to blue to indicate I had earned a skill level.


    It must have happened while I slept as I reviewed any new levels and cleared the icon before I went to sleep each night.


    [New Settlement Tasks added]


    So it wasn¡¯t always about skills.


    The icon was dark after I read the small message.


    The new tasks were highlighted at the top in red and listed as critical. They were also addressed directly to me.


    Directed to the Founder, who happened to be me, anyway. Mostly they were questions that asked me how many families lived in the settlement, and how much land was set aside for farming, and what the water source was, and how the water was treated.


    Once I was done with each question, new tasks were posted in the list depending on how I answered. The question that generated the most tasks was about water.


    I¡¯d answered that I got water from the rain.


    Several of the water related tasks were red. They talked about filtration and testing for something called radiation. Other tasks spoke of boiling and distillation. Another about storage.


    I learned what I could, which seemed to be that the rain water was bad and it was what made all the animals into mutants and killed people by making them poop too much.


    The last one didn¡¯t make much sense to me. If you drank a certain type of bad water you would begin to poop more and more and the poop would be closer and closer to liquid. Yet the medical treatment recommended was to give the patient more water or they would die of dehydration.


    So the cure to bad water, was more water?


    Sometimes the system made very little sense.


    I was in the woods hunting when I heard the engines.


    As had happened before I recognized and identified a sound without being able to recall any memories. The sounds were familiar and yet I didn¡¯t know why.


    The sled was piled with smaller mammals and birds.


    While I was as armed as ever, I¡¯d been practicing with the stones today.


    The system had explained a sling to me, and also a sling shot. Yet having no schema for either it could not instruct me on their construction.


    Not that I tried. The explanations didn¡¯t make sense. You spun a sling suspending a stone at the end of a long loop. Yet with a slingshot you suspended the same stone at the end of a long loop but pulled the loop back.


    What I¡¯d taken from the long confusing conversation with the system was that stones could be used to kill smaller animals if they were moving fast enough.


    It was obvious of course, but so was shitting through a hole in the floor instead of on the floor and that had taken me a long time to see.


    There was even a skill associated with throwing stones, though there were several ways to throw. One was overhanded, one was from the side, another was a sort of looping underhanded method that I had yet to unlock.


    Once I got anywhere close to a method and unlocked the skill the guidance took over and I could feel what was correct and what wasn¡¯t. But I had to unlock that first.


    I hauled the sled back toward the settlement until I could see movement on the wall. Then I stepped out of the sled¡¯s yoke and walked forward.


    I was watching a man on the wall. He held some sort of box up to his eyes as he looked somewhere to my left.


    I glanced that way, saw nothing, and then continued forward.


    To me the sound of the shot and the pain came at the same time.


    According to the explanations in the system the animals in the forest were mutated, which meant they could have forms without function, like extra limbs growing off odd parts of their bodies. Sometimes the oddness had a function. I¡¯d lost a fight to a large cat-thing that had paws larger than dinner plates. Like the sled it stayed on top of the snow while my heavy body had to plow through it.


    Another time I came upon a deer with odd growths and discolorations along it¡¯s ribs. Eventually I killed it and discovered that the bones of it¡¯s chest and ribs had fused and warped and thickened. My javelins and hatchets hadn¡¯t done much more than chip away at its natural armor.


    It didn¡¯t run when attacked though, instead charging me with those wide antlers.


    It had caught me in the chest with two of the tines. They had stabbed deep and the impact had lifted and flung we backward.


    The shot now did the same, slamming into my chest with enough force to throw me off my feet.


    I didn¡¯t really make any decisions after that.


    Everything was reacting. I tried to breathe and couldn¡¯t so I coughed up blood. I tried to move and couldn¡¯t.


    I didn¡¯t even feel pain, just the white hot fire of healing converging toward my chest.

 6 Ravens Rest

    Finding the settlement was not difficult. It was where the map data said it would be, though the implant complained as I approached.


    ¡°Settlement feed signal expected but not detected. Is settlement within visual range?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Is settlement system active?¡±


    I paused in the act of getting free of the leather yoke.


    ¡°Unknown,¡± I said with a wide grin. There was no response from the voice as we temporarily switched roles.


    I left the sled where it sat and checked over the weapons I had on. Two pistols, one a revolver, and the other semi automatic where in hand-crafted holsters.


    I had the rifle on a home-made sling hanging down in front of me. The hatchet was in is own pocket sheath between my shoulder blades with the handle rising up over my shoulder and I held the crossbow.


    None of the three guns used the same ammo, but with all the guns behind me I had several extra magazines.


    The settlement looked abandoned.


    The huge poles that I assumed held a watchtower of some sort were charred timbers reaching into the sky.


    The main gate was closed, but there was a section of the wooden wall missing.


    As I studied the hole I concluded it had likely been pulled down.


    I was tired but not exhausted. Yet I realized now that once again I had failed to think things through.


    I had considered there might be more people here, so much so that I was not going to remove my goggles or scarf. Or if I did remove my scarf I would not show my teeth. But that had been the extent of my planning.


    I now realized the people here, if there were any, might shoot me on sight. Or the raiders could still be here.


    I circled the settlement looking for tracks. I found several days¡¯ old tracks that had been filled in by later snowfall, but only one of which looked even possible to be human.


    I reached the sled and then circled back around following my own tracks until I reached the set of tracks that might be human and followed them towards the settlement. Then reached the wall then wandered down into a low ditch where the heaping snow hid them as they headed back across the barren field.


    I entered Raven¡¯s Rest through a hole in the fence.


    I spent too long standing there, visible to anyone looking, as I studied the aftermath.


    The dead were stripped of clothing, and most stripped of flesh. They were little more than lumps under snow unless they were iced over and visible.


    The settlement had evidence of lots of gun fire.


    Anything easily carted off had been. Tables and chairs and light bulbs were still there, but nothing else was. Dishes were missing from kitchens and clothing and curtains from bedrooms.


    The jars of food I¡¯d found scatted or hidden around the settlement were gone. The building that housed the settlement system, batteries, and breakers was mostly empty. Wires hung inside but the hardware was all missing. Outside the wires that ran from that building to the other buildings had been cut and taken.


    Many of the solar panels were missing, but there were four that remained. Two on the top of a burned out building and two more on a hard to access roof.


    I moved through all the buildings, just to make sure there were no nests, then I hauled the sled close and carried some of the blankets into a building that had an interior room with a door that would close.


    In the day light I retrieved all four solar panels, though the two on the burned out building might not work. The forge had been cleaned out, but I did find a roll of the welding machine wire. I found two lighters and a hidden chest containing ammo and an old knife. Mostly I took the carpets and some of the larger chairs, the ones with the designs carved into them.


    The next closest settlement was Ironwell. And it made a triangle with Raven¡¯s Rest and my own settlement, but there was no road to follow to get to it from where I was.


    As I collected loose wire from the various homes and several of the breaker boxes I wondered if Ironwell would have people.


    I scouted Ironwell better, leaving the sled further away and circling the settlement looking for tracks.


    There were two large vehicles that had burned out here. Lots more bodies, in the hundreds if I had to guess, and absolutely nothing left. Not even light bulbs or carpets. Even bits of scrap metal like hinges or door pins had been taken.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    By the time I returned to Ed¡¯s Eatery with the same sled I¡¯d been pulling I was confused about the whole experience.


    What had been the point?


    And if I¡¯d found people then what? Kill them? I couldn¡¯t eat with them for fear of them seeing my teeth.


    I could talk behind the scarf, but about what?


    I asked the system how to install the solar panels I brought back and received a very complex answer.


    I had to map the current wiring system out and examine hardware in the power building, to which I was informed the system was already ten percent over rated capacity.


    I attempted to wire myself directly to the panels, but the fire inside had to build something under my skin to accommodate the different type of power. I didn¡¯t understand what that meant, but two days later, when the fire was no longer centered on my hip everything seemed to work.


    With the two panels wired together, and resting without motion, I could charge up five percent in a day.


    It began raining occasionally, and then, for about fifteen days straight, there was nothing but rain.


    I filled the meat room with geese when thousands++ of them landed in and around the settlement. I didn¡¯t even collect them that first day, just loaded the crossbow and fired, over and over. Even when some flew away, I could target others and by the time I swung back, more had landed.


    I had thirty four bolts and I had thirty kills. Though I only recovered twenty-seven of the bolts afterward.


    It was another thing I should have known before learning it the hard way. If I shot from the rooftop down into a goose, the powerful crossbow drove the bolt down through the goose and into the muddy ground. That was fine when the goose carcass was directly over the bolt, but many of them moved, or bled out elsewhere making the bolt difficult to find.


    I saw people while I was hunting. There were three of them. One with a bow and two others with long spears with no spear tips.


    They smelled of blood, fever, and infection.


    No one shot at me and so I didn¡¯t shoot at them. I did go back the next day and try to follow their tracks, but after following them for half a day I realized they had likely left the area for good.


    Again I wondered why I didn¡¯t leave. It wasn¡¯t as if I didn¡¯t consider it. I could go back, tracing the parts of the map that were grayed out, presumably discovered by me, which I didn¡¯t remember ever walking through.


    I could look for a printer to complete Settlement Tasks. Or maybe find a trader for the same purpose.


    One day, after I woke but before I had fully dressed, I realized an icon had shifted from gray to blue to indicate I had earned a skill level.


    It must have happened while I slept as I reviewed any new levels and cleared the icon before I went to sleep each night.


    [New Settlement Tasks added]


    So it wasn¡¯t always about skills.


    The icon was dark after I read the small message.


    The new tasks were highlighted at the top in red and listed as critical. They were also addressed directly to me.


    Directed to the Founder, who happened to be me, anyway. Mostly they were questions that asked me how many families lived in the settlement, and how much land was set aside for farming, and what the water source was, and how the water was treated.


    Once I was done with each question, new tasks were posted in the list depending on how I answered. The question that generated the most tasks was about water.


    I¡¯d answered that I got water from the rain.


    Several of the water related tasks were red. They talked about filtration and testing for something called radiation. Other tasks spoke of boiling and distillation. Another about storage.


    I learned what I could, which seemed to be that the rain water was bad and it was what made all the animals into mutants and killed people by making them poop too much.


    The last one didn¡¯t make much sense to me. If you drank a certain type of bad water you would begin to poop more and more and the poop would be closer and closer to liquid. Yet the medical treatment recommended was to give the patient more water or they would die of dehydration.


    So the cure to bad water, was more water?


    Sometimes the system made very little sense.


    I was in the woods hunting when I heard the engines.


    As had happened before I recognized and identified a sound without being able to recall any memories. The sounds were familiar and yet I didn¡¯t know why.


    The sled was piled with smaller mammals and birds.


    While I was as armed as ever, I¡¯d been practicing with the stones today.


    The system had explained a sling to me, and also a sling shot. Yet having no schema for either it could not instruct me on their construction.


    Not that I tried. The explanations didn¡¯t make sense. You spun a sling suspending a stone at the end of a long loop. Yet with a slingshot you suspended the same stone at the end of a long loop but pulled the loop back.


    What I¡¯d taken from the long confusing conversation with the system was that stones could be used to kill smaller animals if they were moving fast enough.


    It was obvious of course, but so was shitting through a hole in the floor instead of on the floor and that had taken me a long time to see.


    There was even a skill associated with throwing stones, though there were several ways to throw. One was overhanded, one was from the side, another was a sort of looping underhanded method that I had yet to unlock.


    Once I got anywhere close to a method and unlocked the skill the guidance took over and I could feel what was correct and what wasn¡¯t. But I had to unlock that first.


    I hauled the sled back toward the settlement until I could see movement on the wall. Then I stepped out of the sled¡¯s yoke and walked forward.


    I was watching a man on the wall. He held some sort of box up to his eyes as he looked somewhere to my left.


    I glanced that way, saw nothing, and then continued forward.


    To me the sound of the shot and the pain came at the same time.


    According to the explanations in the system the animals in the forest were mutated, which meant they could have forms without function, like extra limbs growing off odd parts of their bodies. Sometimes the oddness had a function. I¡¯d lost a fight to a large cat-thing that had paws larger than dinner plates. Like the sled it stayed on top of the snow while my heavy body had to plow through it.


    Another time I came upon a deer with odd growths and discolorations along it¡¯s ribs. Eventually I killed it and discovered that the bones of it¡¯s chest and ribs had fused and warped and thickened. My javelins and hatchets hadn¡¯t done much more than chip away at its natural armor.


    It didn¡¯t run when attacked though, instead charging me with those wide antlers.


    It had caught me in the chest with two of the tines. They had stabbed deep and the impact had lifted and flung we backward.


    The shot now did the same, slamming into my chest with enough force to throw me off my feet.


    I didn¡¯t really make any decisions after that.


    Everything was reacting. I tried to breathe and couldn¡¯t so I coughed up blood. I tried to move and couldn¡¯t.


    I didn¡¯t even feel pain, just the white hot fire of healing converging toward my chest.

 9 Three Hundred Ten

    It was thirty-four minutes past midnight when I left the cluster of vehicles. They were huge things ten meters wide and forty long with tires taller than I was.


    The clusters of pink and orange dots were in trailers of the same size, though instead of canvas walls and ceilings they had metal bars and a sheet metal roof.


    Vehicle four had a trailer as well, but it was full of crates and round drums. It¡¯s metal roof showed the edges of solar panels and I found battery cabinets in the front under the roof.


    I pulled some wires free and forced them out through a gap in the metal siding.


    Once back outside I pressed the wires into the slots at my hip.


    There was fire and discomfort and then burning that actually blistered the skin there. In time it began to cool and I felt the fire inside responding better, pulling together near my hip.


    For twenty minutes nothing happened except the white hot fires of healing near my hip port.


    Then the status page showed my Energy Reserves climb to one percent. It climbed far faster than it ever had before.


    I lay there, wires plugged into my hip port, my face pressed into the hole I dug out with my hands drinking occasionally.


    I breathed in slow and deep, switching between the map and the status screen.


    Then I¡¯d dip my head forward and down and drink the rain water that had collected in the hole.


    I was having trouble planning what to do next.


    While entombed the system had said that it was possible for the yellow dots to send messages or communicate through the feed.


    I didn¡¯t think they did that. Why else would the three solo dots return to the first vehicle if they could send their reports though the feed.


    I adjusted the count, the one thing I had planned while I was in the crate.


    The system titled the page Journal. It had it¡¯s own icon that had been grayed out until I willed a message to be written upon it.


    Yellow - 310


    Orange - 61


    Pink - 54


    I had adjusted the numbers as pink and orange dots went out. I had counted them all individually at first, assigning every dot an alias that increased by one and hoping I had all of them.


    Then it occurred to me that the system must know how many were on the map as it drew them there. When I asked, the voice had confirmed the numbers I spend hours counting.


    ¡°How many yellow dots?¡±


    ¡°Three hundred and five on the local feed.¡±


    Plus the man with the wife, and the one with my thumb, and the three farther north on individual vehicles.


    A deafening crack of lightning followed by thunder shook the sky.


    That totaled the three hundred and ten.


    I considered getting up with partial power several times, but to what end? I didn¡¯t have a plan in place and while I could consider things I was having a hard time deciding on a plan.


    When my Energy Reserves reached a hundred percent I got up, unplugged the wires from my hip and pushed them deeper inside to keep them out of the wet but leaving a loop sticking out so I could get at them again.


    I had to go back for the knife.


    I moved close enough to the cluster of pink dots that the people within noticed. They were pressed up against the door as the rain was coming down at an angle and even against the bars they were dry.


    Soon enough grunts and whispers had moved the crowd away from the door.


    I got close enough to try the handle. There was a keypad of some sort and a thick hinge on the other side. There were also flaps of metal that were flipped over metal loops that had two different locks.


    Not something I could open.


    I had planned to let these and the orange out. More targets meant less chance they were aiming at me.


    There were whispers and pleas, but I left heading towards one of the single dots on the map.


    Most dots were clustered up in threes and fours, with several of the buildings containing thirty or forty or more.


    There was a single yellow dot just beyond the vehicles though.


    When I reached it I looked around but could not find the man.


    I was inside a cramped dry area. Three tall poles were leaned up against each other. The lower area was wrapped in canvas and full of crates and sacks.


    I went back out in the rain, checked the map again and then went back inside.


    It said he should be right here.


    ¡°Where is this dot?¡±


    I asked.


    ¡°Six meters above you.¡±


    I sighed.


    There were thick pieces of rebar driven into one of the wooden poles that acted like ladder rungs.


    I climbed up and found a man under a canvas tarp.


    He blinked up at me and died with a scowl on his face as I exposed it to the rain.


    Since I was here I split his skull open and crunched down on the implant.


    He had a long rifle with thirty rounds split between six five-round magazines.


    He also had a knife on his waist and one in his boot.


    I climbed back down.


    Six other yellow dots were alone on the map. Five of them were on elevated platforms. Four of those five were fully under oiled canvas tarps and died before every seeing me as I simply stabbed through the canvas into their heads and throats.


    The last one was talking to me about a hot meal as I climbed up. He was kneeling and frowned at me.


    I managed to catch him in the throat with a knife even as he pulled away. He almost fell off the platform in a way that almost pulled me over as well.


    Instead he bleed out while he struggled and I hauled him back up and left him.


    I was clicking and clanking with weapons when I returned to the cages. I passed weapons between the bars and then about half the ammo.


    There were questions and pleas but I moved on keeping one of the rifles and about half of the ammo in a hip pouch one of the men had filled with useless items I had dumped out into the mud.Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    I checked the clusters first. Some were in buildings and I left those. Others were outside in trenches with canvas roofs above or in elevated platforms built between trees.


    Twice men screamed, but after I killed them I checked the map and there were no changes.


    I didn¡¯t split the skulls of three men in a trench just to convince myself I could make that choice if I wanted to.


    I carved flesh from the long thigh muscles of some of the dead men and chewed it mechanically as I moved between clusters to help me heal. I wasn¡¯t getting away without injury, but none of the injuries were worth resting to fully heal.


    The men outside at the furthest ring were always facing out. Sometimes they had small rectangular boxes they were staring through.


    These were quite interesting in that they made the dark world green and zoomed in and out with the shifting of a finger. Thankfully all the men that were using them were facing out instead of in.


    I kept one, but gave the rest, as well as weapons, to the pink and orange dots in the large cages.


    They no longer tried to speak to me when I approached. Instead they silently took the weapons and passed them back to waiting hands.


    I kept a hat, and a large coat though I had yet to find any pants or boots.


    The hat was a wide brimmed thing that kept the rain out of my eyes.


    I checked the dead from time to time but everyone seemed to be much smaller than I was and the clothing and boots didn¡¯t match.


    Like the implants I sometimes had other gut feelings. I cut a man open, being careful not to cut into the organs inside.


    Then I fished the slippery organs out, smelling them until I had the one I was craving.


    I don¡¯t know where the fire was inside, but I now had four health reserve nodes.


    I eventually found a hatchet. It wasn¡¯t mine as the handle was metal instead of wood and slightly longer. The head was also balanced with a thick metal spike instead of ending in a flat hammers head.


    Even though the clusters in the buildings were of greater numbers they were often sleeping which sometimes made killing eight or ten men and women much easier than three awake ones in trenches.


    The ones inside were often farther from loaded weapons as well.


    Things did go wrong and there were fights including one I thought I might not survive as I pressed a hand into the side of my neck when my heartbeat thundered into my ears and the white hot fires of healing burned under my hand.


    I went back to vehicle 4 after that one to plug in. I hauled the man¡¯s body there and filled what cravings came as I waiting for my energy reserves to climb.


    The stub of my thumb burned and the lumpy too-fat growth was a mess of scar tissue and pus.


    I did have the craving for bone though which was odd enough I mutilated a body before I realized what I was looking for.


    When my neck was healed up I went back at it.


    Eventually it happened. One of the men got a shot off. The shot went wide but my hatchet didn¡¯t.


    I pulled the hatchet out of his head and crashed through the door into the next room where four more dots were located. I scanned the room, happy to see all four were on this level with none above us.


    It wasn¡¯t quick as the shot had woken them, and two of them got knives into me, but I killed them quickly enough.


    I sat, closed my eyes, and pulled up the map. I studied it looking to see if any of the dots were leaving their clusters.


    For thirty seconds the only movement I saw was the movement in the large cluster where the people from the first vehicle were.


    Then I saw movement in another cluster. Two dots coming together. I tried to picture how far that was and the best route to get there.


    I got up and decided to leave these implants until later.


    Once outside again I took the hat off for a moment as I tipped my face up.


    The sky was still dark, the only light coming from the few scattered bulbs hanging from posts rising above buildings.


    The rain had all but stopped though there was a light misting.


    I checked the map and froze. Then I dropped down into a crouch and fumbled though the hip pouch until I came out with the night-vision binoculars.


    I raced back to the center of the camp. The four dots were far enough from the cluster they had started in that they must be outside.


    I dropped into a crouch again and found first one and then a second one. The ranges displayed in the binoculars showed one hundred four and oner hundred twenty-one meters.


    I took out a knife and struck one of the bars of the cage, then repeated the noise. A man inside the cage to my left was looking through one of the other sets of binoculars and whispering.


    Someone took up the clanging of knife blade on bar and I shot off to the right, pausing behind a long wall of split and stacked wood.


    There was more clamoring now, loud enough I worried it would wake others, but just as I turned around, the noise dropped back down a bit.


    The map showed all four dots were headed toward the cages now.


    I raced again to my right, then waited for the walking men to pass behind a low building before I raced away again. Then I stood and sprinted between buildings.


    I ground my teeth when I realized I¡¯d given the caged ones guns and they might shoot the approaching men drawing out the others.


    ¡°How many yellows left?¡±


    ¡°Ninety-seven on the local feed.¡±


    I slipped in the mud as I rounded a corner. I got up and then moved forward again, aware from the map I was approaching the men from behind now.


    I tried to put the night vision binoculars back in the hip pouch but they didn¡¯t go. The flap was in the way.


    I dropped them. I could get a set from the caged people.


    The first man was easy. He was crossing behind a stack of logs.


    I felt the strain in my arm as I swung and the hatchet passed through his neck almost without resistance catching and tangling in his shoulder.


    I had to jerk twice to get it free. I paused there behind the cover of the logs and then raced forward to the next dot. The first two were close, perhaps too close, to the orange cluster of dots.


    The next man died quickly as I sheered the top of his head off. I felt a bit of a pang when I realized I might have lost his implant.


    The map showed the other two were right up next to the cages.


    I raced forward, slowed as I rounded around a canvas covered pile of cargo.


    The two men were pressed up against the bars.


    I had to stop my swing when I realized arms from inside the cage were wrapped around and holding onto the two men.


    I dropped the hatchet and slammed my knife up into the ribs of the man that was still moving.


    The other body dropped when they released it. The body I had just stabbed was larger. So large in fact I pulled one of the boots off and tried it on.


    Then I removed it and worked at getting his pants off. I finally slid the knife under the suspender things that were hidden under the vest he was wearing.


    I sat in the mud, and pulled them on. I eventually stood up and pulled them up the rest of the way. The canvas pants were large enough around the waist but the bottoms ended mid calf. Thankfully they were wide enough I didn¡¯t have to cut them.


    The boots went on next.


    Then I dropped back onto my ass and pulled a boot off to get a small rock out before putting it back on.


    I rolled the men over quickly taking the knives off them and passing them through the bars.


    I lifted my hands up as if I was holding a pair and said, ¡°Binoculars.¡±


    There was a wall of whispers and then a familiar rectangle with rounded edges was passed out.


    I looked around and found the hatchet under the body.


    Then I paused and checked the map. There was another dot outside its cluster.


    By the time I got there it had gone back inside. Perhaps someone pissing or smoking one of the pipes though I smelled neither urine or smoke.


    Thunder cracked as I peeked through shutters.


    This building had twelve dots but it had three stories of windows so likely they weren¡¯t all on the same floor.


    I decided to wait.


    Four men had left this cluster and a fifth had come outside before going back in.


    I would leave these until later. What if someone was still awake? Or what if they thought there was a problem and they were waking other people?


    This group had twelve in its cluster remaining and it was the smallest.


    There was a cluster of twenty, twenty-four, and then the thirty-seven in the main cluster. Important and most of the vehicle 1 dots were in there and some were still moving around. There were three pink dots and two orange dots in that cluster as well.


    Had there been only two orange? Or had some of them died?


    The cluster of twenty-four was much father away from the others. If a gunshot went off I¡¯d have more time to get away before people approached.


    It was a larger building with only three or four people sleeping in each room. As cautious and worried as I was, it ended up being the easiest building to make my way through.


    I don¡¯t know if it was because I had perfected the method of clamping my hand over their mouth while cutting throats or chopping into spines, but not a single person woke as I made my way through the house.


    Thunder boomed again and it felt as if the building shook. I moved back through the rooms leaving weapons but cracking skulls and crunching on implants.


    The rain made the rest easy.


    It dropped out of the sky in a torrent. It fell so hard that the binoculars were all but useless.


    I was shot four times in the building that had twenty people, but they probably got ten shots off.


    Two were gut shots and one caught me in the leg. The other went through the center of my left hand, but somehow perfectly between the bones without breaking anything.


    The lump of flesh where my thumb had been removed was larger. It still felt like it was full of liquid. When I squeezed the lump the pain changed and eventually the scabbed skin split and a bloody frothy pus was forced out.


    As I watched it sort of sucked itself back into the fissure. The lump was useless but the knife I used in that hand had a ring I could slip my first finger into to help me hold it.


    Down to eight percent Energy Reserves I went back to vehicle four and charged up. The puddle was still there for water and the body was still there for food.


    I went back to the cluster of twelve first, they got shots off, but this time I wasn¡¯t hit. I did have to return fire dropping the hatchet for the pistol.


    I eventually went outside, found a place to climb up the second story and entered through the window there.


    There were four people, but none of them had a gun and I made short work of them.


    As I left the building I checked the time. It was late enough the sun should have risen. Instead the sky was dark with rain and booming with thunder.


    ¡°How many yellows left?¡±


    ¡°Thirty-seven.¡±


    That was how many I¡¯d counted in the main cluster. The one that had both blue and orange dots and the ID I¡¯d labeled as Important, as well as the others associated with the first vehicle.

 8 Hunger and Thirst

    We ended up moving past the crossroads. Instead of continuing forward, which was west and the direction that my map had grayed out sections long explored and forgotten, we turned north.


    We began slowing and stopped in a line on the road in the standard formation. This was the only time the first vehicle that was always in front moved to the middle. The clusters of yellow dots scattered, with some moving out to create a generalized ring while other clustered and separated.


    There was a popular spot between two vehicles that everyone visited at some point. They visited and then moved away. The would stop for a while and then visit that spot again. At first I had assumed it was a communal waste hole but upon further study it was more likely to be a food distribution center.


    Only the dots from the first vehicle did not visit it. But they were visited by many other dots so likely had their food delivered to them. As with each of the previous nightly stops a few of the pink colored dots and a few of the orange colored dots moved from their clusters to the cluster of yellow dots near the first vehicle. The colored dots were always escorted by yellows.


    One of the orange dots disappeared and one of the pink dots was separated from the others as the other orange and pink dots were returned to their clusters.


    A yellow dot joined the lone pink dot for a while then left twenty-two minutes later. Three yellow dots joined after that, then left forty-one minutes later.


    Then two yellow dots joined the pink dot and they headed toward the pink cluster.


    Except instead of joining the pink cluster the pink dot and two yellows stopped between the orange cluster and pink cluster.


    The two yellow dots stayed there for four minutes as a cluster of yellow dots began to arrive, forming a loose arc around the three. The arc of yellow extended from the orange cluster to the pink cluster.


    When the two yellow dots moved away from the lone pink dot one of the yellow dots from the arc moved next to the pink dot.


    Six minutes later another yellow dot joined as the first was moving off.


    I zoomed out a bit to watch what the dots on the outer edge were doing. They had exchanged places with other yellow dots to move to the food area, and as time passed those yellow dots were also replaced by different yellow dots.


    Or maybe the same ones. I could see the ID tags if I zoomed in enough but they were all so difficult to remember.


    There were clusters of yellow dots between the vehicle, but when a yellow dot moved past the vehicles they were switching with one of the yellow dots forming the outer ring of dots.


    I kept zooming in between the two large clusters of orange and pink dots. Directly between the clusters there was the single pink dot. There were between one and three yellow dots in close proximity at all times, and an arc of yellow dots spread out around, but I could not guess as to the why of it.


    I did not sleep, but instead studied the map and how the entities moved. It seemed most of the dots on the perimeter stayed for about an hour. Sometimes longer, sometimes shorter. They never left until someone came to replace them.


    Most moved from the perimeter to the arc of dots around the pink dot between the two clusters. Then, in time, they would move near the pink dot. Most spent six to eleven minutes near the pink dot and then went elsewhere.


    The food distribution cluster had been busy initially, but visitation slowed. There was always at least two yellow dots near it and sometimes more came briefly.


    ¡°Can you make the IDs of the individuals larger?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    I paused as I smiled. I felt my left cheek crinkle near my eye. I blinked and felt both eyes move. I wasn¡¯t sure when that had happened.


    I stopped focusing on the map, even went so far as to clear it away so I was left in darkness.


    If the healing fires had moved on I could no longer feel it, or at least isolate it. I pressed my tongue into first one hole and then the other. There was still pain, and a fresh squirt of blood from the left hole, but no indication anything was happening.


    I moved back through the interface to the map, zoomed out to see the outer perimeter again and then said, ¡°show me the IDs of the individuals.¡±


    Each dot excepting my own had a small label of letters, numbers, symbols, and forward slashes.


    ¡°What is my ID?¡±


    There was a pause.


    ¡°Your ID has not been set and appears to be changeable. Further your implant will not broadcast without spoofing or cloning IDs while its mode is set to Hidden.¡±


    ¡°What other modes are there?¡±


    ¡°Hidden, Passive, Normal, Active, War.¡±


    ¡°What do the modes change?¡±


    ¡°The modes change the default behaviors of the implant.¡±


    ¡°What behaviors do the modes change?¡±


    ¡°Unknown.¡±


    ¡°Can you hide the IDs individually?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Can you change the IDs?¡±


    ¡°Ambiguous question. The IDs are set at the time of implant creation. They cannot be changed. I can create Aliases for the IDs to display whatever you wish.¡±


    ¡°I thought you said I could change my ID.¡±


    There was a pause.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    I sighed. Was that a yes she said that, or a yes I could change my ID. I asked for clarification


    ¡°You can change your ID,¡± she said.


    ¡°But you also said no IDs can be changed.¡±


    ¡°Correct.¡±


    ¡°How can both of those be true?¡±


    ¡°They cannot.¡±


    ¡°What does that mean?¡±


    ¡°Ambiguous question. Two opposing statements cannot both be true, to do so would create a logical paradox. Likely explanations for such a paradox are databases out of date, errors in programing or data, misunderstand of data by entities, misalignment or interpretation of logic to language conversion.¡±


    I asked a few more questions but got no better answers.


    I began creating aliases for the dots, but paused.


    ¡°Can anyone else see these changes I¡¯m making?¡±


    ¡°No. Alias creation is an internal offline process.¡±


    All the dots currently ringing the entire area the other dots and vehicles were in were labeled, Outer Guard.


    The two dots near the food were labeled Food 1 and Food 2.If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    In the morning when the engine started I woke. I opened the map and studied it. I¡¯d missed the transition from nighttime into day.


    The pink dot that had remained between the two clusters all night had been returned to the pink cluster. It was labeled simply Night ???.


    I began moving over the vehicles one at a time adding labels to each dot for which vehicle the were clustered on.


    Three days later the routine changed.


    The map had an icon for a ruin with the label, Deathzone Staging. The system didn¡¯t know what that meant.


    Most of the yellow dots seemed to be generic. They could ride any vehicle, stood on the perimeter at night, visited the pink or orange dots between the two clusters at night, moved to the food stations and away.


    There were some dots that were different. There were only ever three dots that moved in front of the other vehicles ranging ahead. They were three of only nine dots. Which I took to mean that there were only nine that could operate those vehicles for whatever reason.


    There were addition six dots that stayed with vehicle four, the vehicle I trailed behind, at all times and seemed to be busy doing something when the three dots approached it during the short breaks.


    There were two dots for each vehicle that walked around each vehicle when ever it stopped and were located in the foremost positions. While they alternated which side of the vehicle they were on they were always in front.


    Vehicle 1 was slightly different. There seemed to be four dots that met with other dots and then met with a single dot.


    At night that dot was visited by both Food 1 and Food 2 at the same time and when the two Food dots returned to the vehicles, others began to form lines, merge, and disperse.


    The four dots were labeled Vehicle 1, Dot 1-4, though I thought of them as serving the same function. Just like Food 1-2 served the food function.


    I labeled the single dot the others visited as Important, unsure of what role that entity preformed.


    When the three or four pink and orange dots were brought to vehicle 1 each evening, it was Important who joined the selected dot for the first time. Then the four dots 1 through 4, and then the nine dots that operated the individual vehicles.


    There was very clearly a hierarchy of sorts with most of the dots being interchangeable and at the bottom.


    Deathzone Staging was the first time the routine changed. The ruin was laid out with two cross streets and a half arc loop. There were ghostly indications of square buildings.


    The generic low important yellow dots spread out clustering in buildings and forming small clusters in a few other points.


    The three dots that were individual vehicles headed north and returned some three hours later. Unlike other times this happened the map data did not update well. There were patches of revealed grayed out data but it had the white and black checkered pattern.


    When I asked why I was told the data was partially corrupted.


    We did not leave Deathzone Staging the next day, but instead stayed.


    I switched to my status page, took note that my health had dropped to seven percent and tried to breath slower.


    I had eyes now, but they were gummy and dry and my mouth had not a drop of moisture in it. I cleared the hydration warnings whenever they changed the notification icon¡¯s color.


    It was an hour before midnight during our second night in Deathzone Staging when I began to hear voices.


    Eventually there was movement and noise if only slight.


    The noise came closer and closer. The words were often to low to overhear but when I did they were commands like, ¡°shift that back,¡± or ¡°careful! Break those and I¡¯ll turn you you in myself.¡±


    That had been the loudest comment yet.


    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t survive that,¡± someone said.


    ¡°Listen here you head case. You want his other thumb, fine, I¡¯m willing to sell that, but those are printed screens and if you break them I¡¯m sounding the alarm. I got a wife and kids, and I ain¡¯t letting them get strung up because you¡¯ve got such a hard-on you can¡¯t move slowly and carefully.¡±


    Silence stretched.


    ¡°I never knew you were was married,¡± the voice said.


    ¡°Cause you¡¯re a right head case and ain¡¯t no one telling you shit in case you snap.¡±


    There was a ting of laughter.


    Then moments later I heard things shifting again.


    ¡°Okay, on three.¡±


    Eventually they reached a point where the crate I was entombed in was moving in short bursts as they grunted in unison.


    ¡°Bloody- Bastard- made- of- stone!¡± the man with the wife said.


    ¡°Naw, it¡¯s the slabs. Four fingers thick they are,¡± the other man said.


    ¡°Hell fire. This thing¡¯s alive!¡± the man with the wife all but shouted.


    ¡°Lower. Your. Voice,¡± The other man hissed.


    I switched back into map and looked at their aliases. The man with the wife was on my left, and he was one of the men that stayed with vehicle four. The other one was one of the nine that ranged ahead.


    ¡°We got lucky,¡± the man whispered, ¡°Larkin happened to be inspecting this odd ass metal plating they put around the walls. Someone spotted this one and Larkin put a nail through him. No one even saw the teeth or the fangs until they checked the body. By the time I heard they already scooped the eyes out and pulled the fangs.¡±


    ¡°But it¡¯s dead?¡±


    ¡°Hole straight through the heart. Boss put a stake through it.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s the creepy fucking grin for?¡± the man with the wife asked as the wood screamed.


    Everything was silent for a moment, then whatever they were doing started again. A vibration moved through the crate around me.


    ¡°What¡¯s the,¡± he grunted, ¡°smile for.¡±


    ¡°I got the stake when I got the first thumb. Had to bail though because-¡±


    ¡°You took the stake!¡± the man with the wife hissed.


    ¡°It¡¯ll sell well, probably to some idiot like you who thinks the old stories have any truth to them.¡±


    ¡°Listen the fuck- Thumbs are- one thing but-¡± he grunted and paused as they worked but the words ended not with a grunt of labor but something else.


    The impact was soft sounding, but the gurgle that followed didn¡¯t make sense until I smelled the blood.


    ¡°Look at me. Look- there you are. I want you to know I¡¯m going to find out who your wife is.¡±


    There was a low rolling chuckle and then silence.


    Time stretched for a bit and I wondered if the other man had left.


    Then a soft thud and the wood above my waist began to creak again.


    It wasn¡¯t much light that spilled in when the plank that ran from my left to right was peeled up on the left side.


    Not much light was still more than none though and I saw a flat tool wedge up the slab of wood.


    The wood pulled back and even more of the weak light flooded in.


    A hand reached in and felt around. There was a small quick word I didn¡¯t catch. I smiled, feeling my hands wedged in under my head.


    My elbows were above my head but I couldn¡¯t move them up or out to the sides enough to even get my hands above my head instead of under it.


    The crate shifted again. The slab that moved was two slabs above the one lifted and loose.


    He got the slab up far enough to reach and hand in and pat around.


    Another snorted curse and he worked the slab at the very top.


    It was either far narrower or was only partially covering the gap.


    He got it up, reached in and felt my arms, and then pulled the slab up enough to rotate it out of the way.


    He tried to get my hands free but all he managed to do was slam my forehead into the slab above it as he tried to maneuver my arms out from under my head as well.


    ¡°- worth it-¡±


    I only understood part of the mumbling.


    I suddenly realized I didn¡¯t have a plan. I should have been planning on what to do other than waiting for an opportunity to grab him.


    I kept my eyes closed when the slab above my face shifted. I turned my head to the right as the gap was on the left and I wanted to hide my eyes if I could.


    He reached in and tried to get my arm above my head and with a bit of a gap managed to do so.


    I didn¡¯t smile as he cursed when he realized the left hand he was able to get free was the one already missing a thumb.


    There was a long sigh and a grunt as he worked to get the slab free needing to do so to get my right elbow to lift up past where the slab currently was.


    I watched through slitted eyes as he worked the slab up and then back and forth as the nails slowly pulled free from the side slab.


    He grabbed my hair and pulled my head up and lifted my hand.


    I reached out and grabbed the man¡¯s shirt and jerked him towards me.


    It was the most awkward position to be in, and in truth I got lucky.


    I think he was off balance and surprised. I wasn¡¯t able to put much force into the pull.


    I was able to lunge forward and even without canines I bite into the side of his neck and tore.


    I didn¡¯t try to drink, only jerked him back down as he pulled away. The cloth I had ahold of tore but I was able to get a second mouthful.


    This time he helped tear the flesh out as he jerked back as I hadn¡¯t bitten all the way through.


    I tried to move quickly but it didn¡¯t happen. What did happen was slow progress as I shimmied and wormed my way out of the crate.


    When I was fully free I tried to stand and fell over, my head felt two sizes to big as darkness encroached from the edges of my vision.


    I was on the wet ground, and it was raining.


    I pressed my face down into the shimmering pool that reflected light.


    I drank fast at first, and then slowly until I was slurping at an empty puddle.


    I made it to my hands and knees before the wooziness hit me again and I had to pause.


    I managed to get to my feet with the aid of leaning on the massive bit of metal.


    The wooden crate was there at the back, other items stacked high under a large ceiling of some sort.


    There was a body near me, likely the man with a wife, as the other man was ten paces on, laying on the ground his hands pressed into his neck.


    I checked the map, no other yellow dots were close.


    I was breathing hard and having a hard time standing.


    I gave up and returned to my hands and knees those crushed wet stone digging into my flesh. I stopped at the next puddle and pressed my face into it, sucking up the dirty water and swallowing it mechanically while taking breaks to breathe and rest.


    It seemed silly that I could be this weak now. I hadn¡¯t felt this weak in the crate. I felt weak but not this weak.


    The man in front of me twitched and I crawled forward. He had a knife in a sheath on his belt. I took it.


    He lifted on hand and tried to push me away. I ignored the arm and grabbed the clothing on his far shoulder.


    I pulled and rolled him toward me. The knife went in just above the port in the back of his neck. Then again just above it.


    Three more times before I split the skull apart and pulled the port out.


    The strands connected to the back side of the port pulled the implant in the center of the brain out.


    I bit into the mass of moving strands and chewed until I felt the crunch of the implant.


    I paused, panting and resting.


    It had been a gut need, something I knew I had to do but in examining it I didn¡¯t know why. When hunger drove me towards food, food made me full and the hunger receded. When I needed power or water, the same. This hunger was just always there, never satisfied.


    I moved back to the man with the wife, stopping to press my face into another puddle to drink before splitting his skull open and eating his implant.

 9 Three Hundred Ten

    It was thirty-four minutes past midnight when I left the cluster of vehicles. They were huge things ten meters wide and forty long with tires taller than I was.


    The clusters of pink and orange dots were in trailers of the same size, though instead of canvas walls and ceilings they had metal bars and a sheet metal roof.


    Vehicle four had a trailer as well, but it was full of crates and round drums. It¡¯s metal roof showed the edges of solar panels and I found battery cabinets in the front under the roof.


    I pulled some wires free and forced them out through a gap in the metal siding.


    Once back outside I pressed the wires into the slots at my hip.


    There was fire and discomfort and then burning that actually blistered the skin there. In time it began to cool and I felt the fire inside responding better, pulling together near my hip.


    For twenty minutes nothing happened except the white hot fires of healing near my hip port.


    Then the status page showed my Energy Reserves climb to one percent. It climbed far faster than it ever had before.


    I lay there, wires plugged into my hip port, my face pressed into the hole I dug out with my hands drinking occasionally.


    I breathed in slow and deep, switching between the map and the status screen.


    Then I¡¯d dip my head forward and down and drink the rain water that had collected in the hole.


    I was having trouble planning what to do next.


    While entombed the system had said that it was possible for the yellow dots to send messages or communicate through the feed.


    I didn¡¯t think they did that. Why else would the three solo dots return to the first vehicle if they could send their reports though the feed.


    I adjusted the count, the one thing I had planned while I was in the crate.


    The system titled the page Journal. It had it¡¯s own icon that had been grayed out until I willed a message to be written upon it.


    Yellow - 310


    Orange - 61


    Pink - 54


    I had adjusted the numbers as pink and orange dots went out. I had counted them all individually at first, assigning every dot an alias that increased by one and hoping I had all of them.


    Then it occurred to me that the system must know how many were on the map as it drew them there. When I asked, the voice had confirmed the numbers I spend hours counting.


    ¡°How many yellow dots?¡±


    ¡°Three hundred and five on the local feed.¡±


    Plus the man with the wife, and the one with my thumb, and the three farther north on individual vehicles.


    A deafening crack of lightning followed by thunder shook the sky.


    That totaled the three hundred and ten.


    I considered getting up with partial power several times, but to what end? I didn¡¯t have a plan in place and while I could consider things I was having a hard time deciding on a plan.


    When my Energy Reserves reached a hundred percent I got up, unplugged the wires from my hip and pushed them deeper inside to keep them out of the wet but leaving a loop sticking out so I could get at them again.


    I had to go back for the knife.


    I moved close enough to the cluster of pink dots that the people within noticed. They were pressed up against the door as the rain was coming down at an angle and even against the bars they were dry.


    Soon enough grunts and whispers had moved the crowd away from the door.


    I got close enough to try the handle. There was a keypad of some sort and a thick hinge on the other side. There were also flaps of metal that were flipped over metal loops that had two different locks.


    Not something I could open.


    I had planned to let these and the orange out. More targets meant less chance they were aiming at me.


    There were whispers and pleas, but I left heading towards one of the single dots on the map.


    Most dots were clustered up in threes and fours, with several of the buildings containing thirty or forty or more.


    There was a single yellow dot just beyond the vehicles though.


    When I reached it I looked around but could not find the man.


    I was inside a cramped dry area. Three tall poles were leaned up against each other. The lower area was wrapped in canvas and full of crates and sacks.


    I went back out in the rain, checked the map again and then went back inside.


    It said he should be right here.


    ¡°Where is this dot?¡±


    I asked.


    ¡°Six meters above you.¡±


    I sighed.


    There were thick pieces of rebar driven into one of the wooden poles that acted like ladder rungs.


    I climbed up and found a man under a canvas tarp.


    He blinked up at me and died with a scowl on his face as I exposed it to the rain.


    Since I was here I split his skull open and crunched down on the implant.


    He had a long rifle with thirty rounds split between six five-round magazines.


    He also had a knife on his waist and one in his boot.


    I climbed back down.


    Six other yellow dots were alone on the map. Five of them were on elevated platforms. Four of those five were fully under oiled canvas tarps and died before every seeing me as I simply stabbed through the canvas into their heads and throats.


    The last one was talking to me about a hot meal as I climbed up. He was kneeling and frowned at me.


    I managed to catch him in the throat with a knife even as he pulled away. He almost fell off the platform in a way that almost pulled me over as well.


    Instead he bleed out while he struggled and I hauled him back up and left him.


    I was clicking and clanking with weapons when I returned to the cages. I passed weapons between the bars and then about half the ammo.


    There were questions and pleas but I moved on keeping one of the rifles and about half of the ammo in a hip pouch one of the men had filled with useless items I had dumped out into the mud.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    I checked the clusters first. Some were in buildings and I left those. Others were outside in trenches with canvas roofs above or in elevated platforms built between trees.


    Twice men screamed, but after I killed them I checked the map and there were no changes.


    I didn¡¯t split the skulls of three men in a trench just to convince myself I could make that choice if I wanted to.


    I carved flesh from the long thigh muscles of some of the dead men and chewed it mechanically as I moved between clusters to help me heal. I wasn¡¯t getting away without injury, but none of the injuries were worth resting to fully heal.


    The men outside at the furthest ring were always facing out. Sometimes they had small rectangular boxes they were staring through.


    These were quite interesting in that they made the dark world green and zoomed in and out with the shifting of a finger. Thankfully all the men that were using them were facing out instead of in.


    I kept one, but gave the rest, as well as weapons, to the pink and orange dots in the large cages.


    They no longer tried to speak to me when I approached. Instead they silently took the weapons and passed them back to waiting hands.


    I kept a hat, and a large coat though I had yet to find any pants or boots.


    The hat was a wide brimmed thing that kept the rain out of my eyes.


    I checked the dead from time to time but everyone seemed to be much smaller than I was and the clothing and boots didn¡¯t match.


    Like the implants I sometimes had other gut feelings. I cut a man open, being careful not to cut into the organs inside.


    Then I fished the slippery organs out, smelling them until I had the one I was craving.


    I don¡¯t know where the fire was inside, but I now had four health reserve nodes.


    I eventually found a hatchet. It wasn¡¯t mine as the handle was metal instead of wood and slightly longer. The head was also balanced with a thick metal spike instead of ending in a flat hammers head.


    Even though the clusters in the buildings were of greater numbers they were often sleeping which sometimes made killing eight or ten men and women much easier than three awake ones in trenches.


    The ones inside were often farther from loaded weapons as well.


    Things did go wrong and there were fights including one I thought I might not survive as I pressed a hand into the side of my neck when my heartbeat thundered into my ears and the white hot fires of healing burned under my hand.


    I went back to vehicle 4 after that one to plug in. I hauled the man¡¯s body there and filled what cravings came as I waiting for my energy reserves to climb.


    The stub of my thumb burned and the lumpy too-fat growth was a mess of scar tissue and pus.


    I did have the craving for bone though which was odd enough I mutilated a body before I realized what I was looking for.


    When my neck was healed up I went back at it.


    Eventually it happened. One of the men got a shot off. The shot went wide but my hatchet didn¡¯t.


    I pulled the hatchet out of his head and crashed through the door into the next room where four more dots were located. I scanned the room, happy to see all four were on this level with none above us.


    It wasn¡¯t quick as the shot had woken them, and two of them got knives into me, but I killed them quickly enough.


    I sat, closed my eyes, and pulled up the map. I studied it looking to see if any of the dots were leaving their clusters.


    For thirty seconds the only movement I saw was the movement in the large cluster where the people from the first vehicle were.


    Then I saw movement in another cluster. Two dots coming together. I tried to picture how far that was and the best route to get there.


    I got up and decided to leave these implants until later.


    Once outside again I took the hat off for a moment as I tipped my face up.


    The sky was still dark, the only light coming from the few scattered bulbs hanging from posts rising above buildings.


    The rain had all but stopped though there was a light misting.


    I checked the map and froze. Then I dropped down into a crouch and fumbled though the hip pouch until I came out with the night-vision binoculars.


    I raced back to the center of the camp. The four dots were far enough from the cluster they had started in that they must be outside.


    I dropped into a crouch again and found first one and then a second one. The ranges displayed in the binoculars showed one hundred four and oner hundred twenty-one meters.


    I took out a knife and struck one of the bars of the cage, then repeated the noise. A man inside the cage to my left was looking through one of the other sets of binoculars and whispering.


    Someone took up the clanging of knife blade on bar and I shot off to the right, pausing behind a long wall of split and stacked wood.


    There was more clamoring now, loud enough I worried it would wake others, but just as I turned around, the noise dropped back down a bit.


    The map showed all four dots were headed toward the cages now.


    I raced again to my right, then waited for the walking men to pass behind a low building before I raced away again. Then I stood and sprinted between buildings.


    I ground my teeth when I realized I¡¯d given the caged ones guns and they might shoot the approaching men drawing out the others.


    ¡°How many yellows left?¡±


    ¡°Ninety-seven on the local feed.¡±


    I slipped in the mud as I rounded a corner. I got up and then moved forward again, aware from the map I was approaching the men from behind now.


    I tried to put the night vision binoculars back in the hip pouch but they didn¡¯t go. The flap was in the way.


    I dropped them. I could get a set from the caged people.


    The first man was easy. He was crossing behind a stack of logs.


    I felt the strain in my arm as I swung and the hatchet passed through his neck almost without resistance catching and tangling in his shoulder.


    I had to jerk twice to get it free. I paused there behind the cover of the logs and then raced forward to the next dot. The first two were close, perhaps too close, to the orange cluster of dots.


    The next man died quickly as I sheered the top of his head off. I felt a bit of a pang when I realized I might have lost his implant.


    The map showed the other two were right up next to the cages.


    I raced forward, slowed as I rounded around a canvas covered pile of cargo.


    The two men were pressed up against the bars.


    I had to stop my swing when I realized arms from inside the cage were wrapped around and holding onto the two men.


    I dropped the hatchet and slammed my knife up into the ribs of the man that was still moving.


    The other body dropped when they released it. The body I had just stabbed was larger. So large in fact I pulled one of the boots off and tried it on.


    Then I removed it and worked at getting his pants off. I finally slid the knife under the suspender things that were hidden under the vest he was wearing.


    I sat in the mud, and pulled them on. I eventually stood up and pulled them up the rest of the way. The canvas pants were large enough around the waist but the bottoms ended mid calf. Thankfully they were wide enough I didn¡¯t have to cut them.


    The boots went on next.


    Then I dropped back onto my ass and pulled a boot off to get a small rock out before putting it back on.


    I rolled the men over quickly taking the knives off them and passing them through the bars.


    I lifted my hands up as if I was holding a pair and said, ¡°Binoculars.¡±


    There was a wall of whispers and then a familiar rectangle with rounded edges was passed out.


    I looked around and found the hatchet under the body.


    Then I paused and checked the map. There was another dot outside its cluster.


    By the time I got there it had gone back inside. Perhaps someone pissing or smoking one of the pipes though I smelled neither urine or smoke.


    Thunder cracked as I peeked through shutters.


    This building had twelve dots but it had three stories of windows so likely they weren¡¯t all on the same floor.


    I decided to wait.


    Four men had left this cluster and a fifth had come outside before going back in.


    I would leave these until later. What if someone was still awake? Or what if they thought there was a problem and they were waking other people?


    This group had twelve in its cluster remaining and it was the smallest.


    There was a cluster of twenty, twenty-four, and then the thirty-seven in the main cluster. Important and most of the vehicle 1 dots were in there and some were still moving around. There were three pink dots and two orange dots in that cluster as well.


    Had there been only two orange? Or had some of them died?


    The cluster of twenty-four was much father away from the others. If a gunshot went off I¡¯d have more time to get away before people approached.


    It was a larger building with only three or four people sleeping in each room. As cautious and worried as I was, it ended up being the easiest building to make my way through.


    I don¡¯t know if it was because I had perfected the method of clamping my hand over their mouth while cutting throats or chopping into spines, but not a single person woke as I made my way through the house.


    Thunder boomed again and it felt as if the building shook. I moved back through the rooms leaving weapons but cracking skulls and crunching on implants.


    The rain made the rest easy.


    It dropped out of the sky in a torrent. It fell so hard that the binoculars were all but useless.


    I was shot four times in the building that had twenty people, but they probably got ten shots off.


    Two were gut shots and one caught me in the leg. The other went through the center of my left hand, but somehow perfectly between the bones without breaking anything.


    The lump of flesh where my thumb had been removed was larger. It still felt like it was full of liquid. When I squeezed the lump the pain changed and eventually the scabbed skin split and a bloody frothy pus was forced out.


    As I watched it sort of sucked itself back into the fissure. The lump was useless but the knife I used in that hand had a ring I could slip my first finger into to help me hold it.


    Down to eight percent Energy Reserves I went back to vehicle four and charged up. The puddle was still there for water and the body was still there for food.


    I went back to the cluster of twelve first, they got shots off, but this time I wasn¡¯t hit. I did have to return fire dropping the hatchet for the pistol.


    I eventually went outside, found a place to climb up the second story and entered through the window there.


    There were four people, but none of them had a gun and I made short work of them.


    As I left the building I checked the time. It was late enough the sun should have risen. Instead the sky was dark with rain and booming with thunder.


    ¡°How many yellows left?¡±


    ¡°Thirty-seven.¡±


    That was how many I¡¯d counted in the main cluster. The one that had both blue and orange dots and the ID I¡¯d labeled as Important, as well as the others associated with the first vehicle.

 10 The practical physics of rail guns

    I didn¡¯t bother with the binoculars. I couldn¡¯t see more than a few meters in front of me and the ground everywhere was under a centimeter of water.


    I stopped when I realized that and knelt down to drink.


    The raindrops around me slammed into the water and splashed, but I drank deeply before slowing and forcing myself to drink more of the muddy water than I craved. The healing fires were still burning behind the bullet wounds, and my missing thumb was still a useless, boneless, lump of flesh half the size of what a thumb should be.


    Even so I was feeling something akin to pride. I hadn¡¯t died.


    I paused. Pushed myself up so that I was only kneeling in the water, and wondered why I didn¡¯t leave right now. There were no guards, no one to follow me. I had weapons and energy and hundreds of implants in my gut whatever good those did.


    The building the thirty-seven were in was lit with inner light. Electric light. The rest of the buildings had one or two bulbs at most inside. Some of the taller buildings had an external bulb. It seemed every room in the four story building was lit up.


    Later, when I could experiment with Larkin¡¯s weapon I¡¯d learn the scope was something called a thermal scope. Like the night vision binoculars it changed how you saw the world. I wasn¡¯t that close, but I was close enough to see that there were four levels of lit windows. Close enough to hear the music, which I didn¡¯t have a name for at the time, even above the thunder and rainfall.


    Had I hidden and used the rifle¡¯s scope to look at the rooftop I might have seen the man, or at least a man-shaped lump under a canvas covering.


    Almost all of the lookouts everywhere else had been asleep or distracted before I killed them.


    This Larkin fellow wasn¡¯t. Though in truth I didn¡¯t know his real name as Larkin was beautifully etched into each side of the weapon¡¯s heavy barrel


    When I searched the building¡¯s burned husk afterward, I found a large number of empty bottle and jugs that had contained alcohol. I can only assume he missed that first shot, when I was moving slowly and totally unaware, because he was drunk.


    The weapon sounded different. The noise sharper, louder, and fuller than a rifle firing a gun powder round.


    There was a line in the rain and an explosion behind me when the thunderous crack came. I was already looking at the building or I would have taken too much time wondering what had just happened


    I dove behind a stack of crates covered in an oiled canvas tarp. The crates explodes as if there were men swinging sledgehammers into them.


    Then they exploded with flame as whatever was inside the crates lit off.


    I ran to the neighboring pile of whatever and dove behind it. I realized I¡¯d left the hatchet and dove back just as the material I was hiding behind exploded.


    I scooped the hatchet up and sprinted forward, skipping the first stacked pile of stuff and coming to a halt behind the next one.


    He¡¯d fired into the pile I ran past and then into the one I was hiding behind.


    That¡¯s when I realized these provided no cover at all.


    I don¡¯t know if it was instinct or some piece of memory that hadn¡¯t been reconstructed, but I rushed the building trying to take wider steps so I wasn¡¯t running in a straight line.


    He got off another shot then, missing obviously, or I would have been a paste.


    That was twice, when I looked back, that I absolutely should have died. He missed the first shot and then he missed when I rushed the building.


    I dropped the hatchet and pulled the pistol out as I dove at the closed shudders on the first floor.


    I didn¡¯t so much manage to roll as crash through in such a way that when I stopped I was on my ass in an almost seated position.


    I moved the pistol around the room, some long forgotten training taking over in much the same way the skill guidance took over.


    I didn¡¯t see the faces so much as line them up in the iron sights and squeeze. Hit or miss the gun kept swinging, left to right until I was out of ammo.


    I picked a door and raced at it slamming my shoulder into the rough planks.


    The planks gave out on top but only cracked and folded over the bar that secured the door from the other side. I saw a pistol in shaking hands inside and I pulled back.


    The people in the room I was in that were still moving soon got a knife.


    I had to reach across my body to get a new magazine for the pistol. I got it reloaded and then found none of the dots on the map were moving.


    It took me a few quick sentences before the system identified the entity that had been the most elevated in this cluster a few minutes ago. The man had been the only one on the roof. Now he was one level down with a cluster of other yellow dots.


    I colored him red, Important green, and then had the implant color the others based on elevation.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    ¡°But keep the red one red no matte the elevation, and the green one green¡±


    ¡°Understood,¡± she responded.


    The music was still playing, filling the room with strong beats and deep thumps even as the thunder boomed behind it.


    There was a naked woman tied to a low table half way across the room from me.


    She was an orange dot on the map and-


    I lifted the pistol and using the map and tried to figure out where the white dot was beyond her.


    I started firing into the fur covered chair and five shots in the dot disappeared from the map.


    I slipped another magazine in.


    I switched to the rifle in the hopes that the bullets would drive through the walls easier as I tried to guess where the whites dots were hiding on this floor.


    I did not eliminate anyone else with the first magazine of five shots. What did happen was one of the men in the rooms returned fire, and more importantly the rail gun that didn¡¯t care about cover shot through the floor above.


    Men screamed as they rushed down the stairs shooting rapidly into the room.


    I lifted the pistol on my lap and shot them in the head one after the next.


    I was shot twice for my trouble. My left shoulder was a mess of torn flesh and I couldn¡¯t lift that arm. The other hole was in a lung and I felt the labored breathing already.


    The echoing boom repeated from above over and over.


    I don¡¯t know what started the fire, but it was knee-high by the time I noticed.


    There was a table overturned near it and the flames flickered and clung to its surface in an unnatural way. Blue and slick with yellow tongues only at the tips.


    The rug beneath it began to smoke as I reloaded.


    One of the bottles exploded and there was a quick flash of fire.


    I looked from the spreading fire to the woman tied to the knee high table.


    She was naked, but covered in red welts and lines, blue and black bruises covered her breasts and face and one eye was swollen closed.


    The other was staring. Not at me. Not at anything at all really.


    I noticed her hair was cut close to her scalp and the ear closest to me was cut off.


    I put the first bullet into her head and then rest into the bottles stacked on the surrounding tables and crates.


    The fire grew as I reloaded. I watched the map.


    Some of the white dots had changed back to yellow as they moved around from the building.


    In time there was only one white dot left.


    The music still poured out of the boxes in the corners and the the booming gun above kept firing through the floors seeming at random.


    I checked the map, moved to the side of the building the red dot was farthest from and realized I¡¯d lost my hatchet. I punched into the locked shutters, unable to figure out the trick to release the thin pieces of metal.


    They popped open easily and I climbed out.


    This window, like most in this settlement, didn¡¯t have any glass at all.


    I ran doing my best to keep track of where the red dot was. I kept multiple buildings between myself and the dot while focusing on the other dots that left the building returning to yellow as they did so.


    Soon enough the red and green dot as well as nine other yellows were in a neighboring building while the other yellow dots moved toward the vehicles.


    The pink and orange dots had either gone dark or remained in the burning building.


    The rain was still heavy, but the thunder had moved past us and as strong as the wind was, daylight was following the storm clouds.


    I killed four of the five dots before they reached the vehicles.


    Firing the rifle without my left arm meant I had to steady it on crates. Which slowed my pursuit.


    Buildings between us or not, the man with the rail gun did his best to guess where I was and began firing through buildings.


    The buildings seemed to hinder the rounds as little as the crates did.


    Thankfully the settlement was built on a hill, so as I ran away the holes that exploded through multiple buildings were higher and higher in relation to me.


    I circled around as best I could.


    Rain or not the building this had started in was a thick column of orange and red fire. The rain smashed the smoke into the ground and caused it to cling and choke.


    The yellow dot had gotten one of the massive vehicles started. I put two rounds into the front windshield only to find it was not disturbed at all.


    The vehicle lurched forward and the engine died.


    I had to climb up a bit to get to the door. I glanced through that small window to see him turning knobs and cursing.


    The door¡¯s handle was a flat lever I needed to rotate up. The door clicked and swung open.


    ¡°Hurry-¡± the man began as he looked over his shoulder at me, ¡°hells,¡± he said as he reached for a pistol he¡¯d put on the dash. I had to holster my own pistol to climb up to the high door, so I lunged in.


    He struggled as I got the pistol around then he went limp. I definitely ruined the implant on this one.


    It became a game of lining up shots with the rifle, checking the map to make sure the red dot was not on the side of the building I would be firing into, and then pulling the trigger on the target I had.


    Sometimes I had what felt like a perfect shot, except the red dot was on that side of the building and I couldn¡¯t afford to risk the return fire.


    I shot Important by accident.


    I was lining up on a shot on a window and checking the map every few seconds, saw that the red dot was pacing on the other side of the building.


    When something moved on the other side of the window, I fired, picked up the rifle and ran, jumping down from the second story and racing left, and then farther away from the building doing my best to stay low.


    By the time I checked the count, expecting it to be nine and finding it so, I couldn¡¯t see the green dot any more.


    The system confirmed the that the green dot was the last to disappear. She already confirmed that it shouldn¡¯t be possible to hide your implant from the feed, but she also confirmed that I currently was doing just that.


    Eventually there were four yellow dots and the red.


    I had just fired from a location farthest away from the center of the settlement where the vehicle were.


    I always ran first, then checked after. Even on the other side of the buildings the man would return fire, shooting blindly through the buildings and sometimes getting uncomfortably close.


    The dots, when I checked, were already out of the building and moving quickly toward the vehicles in the center of the abandoned settlement.


    I sprinted to the side moving to the entrance of the settlement. I grunted as pain flashed when my left arm moved with each step. I held the rifle in my right hand and pressed that against my left arm trying to keep it near my chest but it still moved a lot.


    Hopefully I would be able to fire upon them as they left.


    The booming continued as the rail gun fired and there was a scattering of the lesser gunfire.


    I had a moment of understanding when I realized each man could drive a separate vehicle.


    I was breathing hard and trying to ignore the fact that I was once again at zero energy. My speed was tearing my shoulder with every long stride and I was having problems reloading even when stopped with how badly my right hand would shake.


    The hip pouch was full of ammo but the magazines were sometimes for the pistol and sometimes for the rifle when I pulled them out. I¡¯d left them scattered all over the settlement when I drew out the wrong ones.


    Six or seven times I had a lined up shot and pulled the trigger only to realize I hadn¡¯t reloaded the weapon.


    I stopped before a long open stretch of land catching my breath as I checked the map.


    It was clear. No dots except those that were orange or pink.

 11 Aftermath

    At first I didn¡¯t understand how it had happened. How had the men gotten out of range so quickly?


    Then I had the implant replay the last few moments and watched the map. The ability to replay their positions was something else I had discovered the implant could do mid fight.


    The men reached the central region where the vehicles were and then a yellow dot and the red dot winked out. A moment later the rest of the yellow were gone.


    They weren¡¯t exactly close to the cages, but obviously close enough to be within range of the rifles.


    I replayed it again, unsure how I felt about not being the one to kill the red dot.


    I¡¯d felt something as we tried to kill each other. A back and forth that I imagined he felt as well, though now I¡¯d never get to ask him.


    I didn¡¯t care.


    I walked around the corner and started toward the central area. Piles of different gear were stacked and covered with canvas tarps.


    It occurred to me only now how much stuff was here. How many settlements did they raid to collect all of this.


    And perhaps more importantly where was it all going?


    There was a gunshot but when I dropped into a crouch working to lift the rifle up as I looked around, I saw that there was a struggle within the closest cage.


    Moments later there were shouted whispers and guns were visibly lowered or pointed elsewhere.


    I suddenly realized they might try to kill me if they saw my eye color or the metallic coating of my teeth.


    I squinted as I moved forward, lifting a hand to return a wave.


    There were questions again, whispered and urgent.


    I slowed when I saw the bodies. Not the two closest to the cage I¡¯d killed earlier, but the small cluster further on.


    I moved around a stack of items and set the rifle down.


    I took the pistol out as I approached.


    Only one man had a head still fully intact and I put a bullet in it. While there was still a hunger for implants there were other priorities.


    The huge red gun was obvious, even if it didn¡¯t exactly look like a gun. I pulled it off the body and ducked under the wide padded strap. It was far to heavy to lift with one hand.


    The man had a belt and holster with a pistol. I pulled the pistol out. It was sleek and compact and looked more deadly than any of the others I¡¯d seen even though the hole in the barrel was tiny.


    I got the belt, holster, and accompanying weapon off the body but couldn¡¯t get the belt on with only one arm.


    I approached the cage, head down and eyes squinting the belt hanging from my hand.


    When I reached the cage I turned around putting my back to the armed people who might kill me.


    ¡°There are three more,¡± I said, ¡°they each have some sort of vehicle that only holds one person. They went north yesterday and haven¡¯t returned yet.¡±


    ¡°The motorcycles?¡± someone asked. Their accent was thick but I put the words together.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what that is,¡± I said. I was disturbed to find that my speech patterns had changed so that I sounded more like he sounded. I hadn¡¯t meant to do that.


    There was a brief wave of whispered questions all overlapping until someone shushed them all down.


    ¡°We had people- women and girls they took. Did you-¡±


    ¡°They are all dead,¡± I said.


    There were more noises but no more questions.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be back,¡± I said as I walked towards the front of the vehicle, headed to number four and the charging station.


    The body I¡¯d eaten before while charging was still there. I put it to use again.


    I was somehow still thirsty and found myself pressing my face into the puddle I¡¯d dug out earlier.


    Even when my Energy Reserves were full I stayed there. The eating had been mechanical in nature, but there was a hunger that needed filling.


    I avoided the cages, instead circling around to the various places where I hadn¡¯t had time to loot the bodies or split the skulls open and harvest the implants.


    I found another wide brimmed hat, this one fancier and rimmed with teeth, six of which were upright metallic fangs that could have been mine.


    I ended up cutting and tearing a shirt up to make a scarf, which was still difficult to wrap without the full mobility of my left arm.


    The rail gun was massive, heavy, and unwieldy. It was also the least gun-looking gun I¡¯d yet to see. I should have left it with the belt and pistol I left near vehicle 4.


    It seemed that crates and items in buildings were more expensive, edible, or alcoholic while those outside were bulky items, lumber, or otherwise impervious to the elements.


    I made a makeshift sled out of a canvas tarp and hauled food in tins and silver foil packs out between the cages.


    Again there were too many questions to follow until someone shut everyone up.


    ¡°Food¡¯s good, but how are you going to get us out of these cages? If they see us with weapons or the dead- we can¡¯t escape.¡±


    ¡°I haven¡¯t figured that out,¡± I lied. I hadn¡¯t yet really considered it. I thought about them, but only from a perspective of what they immediately needed. It had rained a lot so I felt like they likely weren¡¯t thirsty, and then I found the food and it seemed like the thing to do was bring it to them.


    ¡°That rail gun will make easy work-¡± someone began.


    ¡°Do not!¡± someone else interrupted, ¡°the metal may fragment and-¡±


    They all talked over each other as I kept my eyes down and squinting while handing food up to waiting hands. It didn¡¯t matter anyway. I hadn¡¯t yet figured out how to get the rail gun to do anything. Currently it was just a big heavy rectangle.


    ¡°There might be a cutting torch,¡± I said after a while.


    Suddenly everyone was excited.


    I left.


    At first I wandered. The stacks of crates tended to have the same theme. Wool yarn, crates of thread, bolts of cloth, and crates of rags were all together.


    Shovels, metal rods, weird blades that might be weapons or plows or both, were altogether.


    Root vegetables.


    Lumber.


    Rugs.


    Solar panels.


    Long loops of wires.


    Light bulbs. So many light bulbs.


    Eventually I found a building with chains and locks and boarded up windows. I¡¯d left eh rail gun at the charging area. I¡¯d picked up a few tools. Mostly I used a crowbar and a hammer.


    I smashed the hinges apart and opened the door.


    An explosion knocked me down and sapped the breath from my lungs. I got free of the door and saw the other side had bits of nail and other metal scrap implanted into it.


    I limped into the room, wary of more traps.


    Inside were weapons sorted by ammo type.


    I eventually found the cutting torches in the obvious place.


    Vehicle 4¡¯s trailer.


    Of course they needed cutting torches while stripping settlements of their valuables.


    I found a pair of welding goggles with the welding machines in the same long trailer that housed the battery cabinets and all manner of tools. The dark lenses could be flipped up to reveal a second set of clear lenses. I wiped a bit of grease on those to help hid my eyes.


    The cart was was awkward to drag but the tubes didn¡¯t extend too far from the two tanks.


    Eventually we got it in place and then managed to get it lit. I adjusted the flame like the old man in the cage instructed.


    Then it was just a matter of holding it in the same spot until the metal gave way.


    The old man took over the task for the second cage as most of the people from the first cage stood around with no clear direction of what to do.


    When the second door fell open everyone cheered.


    They very carefully exited. They avoided the still hot sides as men helped them down to the ground as there was no ramp.


    In a short period of time I found I was surrounded by a gray haired women and men, and a man with no hair on his head at all.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    Most of the people in cages were women, the men I saw were old, or very young.


    ¡°What¡¯s the plan?¡± one of the old men asked.


    I scratched at my still healing shoulder and looked out over the crowd. Almost everyone was shorter than I was. Some significantly so.


    One of the old men was staring at me.


    I¡¯d smeared grease across the clear lenses of the goggles, but I looked away from him in case that hadn¡¯t been enough.


    I found myself looking at the three tall poles with a platform on top.


    ¡°There are three, um, motorcycles,¡± I said recalling the word someone else had said.


    ¡°They went north, they will be back. We should put shooters on the platforms.¡±


    ¡°Shooters on the platforms,¡± one of the old men repeated as if to himself.


    ¡°On the platforms,¡± another said, ¡°and ready to ambush them at the main gate.¡±


    ¡°Listen up!¡± one of the old women called out. The noise died instantly.


    ¡°Whose good with a rifle?¡± she began.


    One of the old men was asking where I got the food from.


    ¡°Are we staying here?¡± someone asked.


    I started walking. Some of the people began to follow while others continued to give orders about who should get rifles and who would go wait at the gate.


    I arrived at vehicle 4¡¯s trailer and there were still people following.


    I turned around and the people circled around me.


    ¡°We need to figure out food and water and where we are.¡±


    ¡°Do you not have maps?¡± I asked.


    ¡°They left us with our clothing, but nothing else,¡± one of the older women said.


    I brought up the map and zoomed out.


    There were only ruins in the revealed parts of the map.


    ¡°This looks like a staging ground,¡± one of the old men said.


    ¡°I¡¯ve seen these types of vehicles before. Smelled that sort of exhaust,¡± he said indicating the first vehicle that was still running, ¡°these are long range petrol engines meant to run where the rads are high enough to kill the electronics in the ¡®lectric motors-¡±


    ¡°You asked to be alerted when then three IDs reentered the local feed,¡± the feminine voice of the implant said.


    Shots from the elevated towers and then faster shots from near the gate seemed to drown out the second half of what she was saying. But because the words were in my head I heard them clearly.


    I changed over to my map. Then mumbled to myself to get the system replay the last few seconds.


    Three dots.


    Now only one.


    There were a lot more shots than one person could-


    The yellow dot disappeared.


    I dismissed the map.


    The shots slowed and then stopped.


    The people standing around me slowly turned back to me.


    ¡°We need to take inventory and then-¡±


    I lifted a hand and the words stopped.


    ¡°I need to rest,¡± I said.


    Someone nodded, and seemed to take note of my damaged jacket.


    ¡°Oh my!¡± she said suddenly, ¡°we can get a healer to look you over.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± I said.


    She was reaching out to touch my shoulder but I slapped her hand.


    She winced and pulled her hand back tucking it near her body as she stepped back. One of the men stepped in front of her his eyes wide and his hands doing something before they settled near his side.


    ¡°Come along,¡± one of the other men said, ¡°we all know we have work to do. Let¡¯s get started, we won¡¯t get this daylight back.¡±


    Even though he got the rest of them moving the man didn¡¯t leave. A few of the others looked back, but they continued walking.


    ¡°You need a healer,¡± he said, ¡°and I¡¯ve seen just about everything on the road.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll heal.¡±


    ¡°Whatever face you¡¯re hiding under the scarf and goggles, there is no need. It doesn¡¯t matter what crime, real or imagined, got you on a poster or got you branded or tattooed. Not a one of these people will be scared of you, not after what you¡¯ve done for us.¡±


    ¡°The last time I showed my face people tried to kill me,¡± I said.


    ¡°Not us. Not anymore,¡± he said, ¡°We were all of us dead, or worse, and every single one of us knows who we owe our lives to.¡±


    ¡°I would rather err on the side of caution,¡± I said.


    He shook his head then let out a sigh.


    ¡°Will you let look at your wounds? I swear by the nine gods and my hope of rebirth and salvation I¡¯ll not speak of anything I see here, and that my only intention is to help.¡±


    ¡°Is that a powerful oath?¡± I asked. It had sounded meaningful.


    ¡°The most powerful I can give,¡± he said seriously.


    I sighed.


    My shoulder still burned with healing fire, but I couldn¡¯t yet move the arm.


    I took off the goggles and met the man¡¯s eyes.


    He inhaled sharply and then stared at my teeth after I pulled down the scarf.


    ¡°Any-¡± he began then swallowed, ¡°Any chance you¡¯re in one of those devil worshiping gangs?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not in a gang.¡±


    ¡°I was wrong,¡± he said slowly. He was leaning against the vehicle and breathing deeply now.


    ¡°Keep the scarf and goggles on. People will-¡± he inhaled again and let the breath out in a long stream.


    ¡°People will not understand.¡±


    I wrapped my face with the scarf and then worked at putting the goggles back on.


    He was still breathing hard as I began to struggle out of the jacket.


    He stepped forward to help, but his hands shook.


    I didn¡¯t have a shirt on under the jacket. The shoulder was scabbed over and swollen. There were still raw scars across my chest and stab wounds covering my ribs. Some of which were still sore from the trapped door.


    ¡°What the hells-¡± he gasped, ¡°how are you alive?¡±


    He clapped a hand over his mouth and shook his head.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± he whispered, though I didn¡¯t understand why he was saying that.


    ¡°Gods be praised,¡± someone said, ¡°I thought I wouldn¡¯t find you.¡±


    It was a woman and she started out looking at the old man but her eyes shifted to me.


    ¡°Jan- Jan!¡± the old man snapped drawing her eyes back to him.


    ¡°What?¡± he asked when she was looking at him.


    ¡°We need to get everyone together,¡± she said, ¡°most of them are back in the cages already but-¡±


    ¡°What? What are you talking about?¡±


    ¡°Zombies,¡± she whispered.


    ¡°Where?¡± he said, ¡°We need to organize-¡±


    ¡°Already here,¡± she whispered.


    ¡°Here?¡± he started to look at me but then reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. Turning her as he stepped around and away from me.


    ¡°People saw them?¡± he asked.


    ¡°No,¡± she whispered, ¡°but the dead, they¡¯ve had their heads split open and their brains eaten.¡±


    The old man looked over her shoulder at me.


    ¡°I¡¯ll- uh-¡± he began.


    ¡°We were told to get everyone back in the cages.¡±


    He nodded, ¡°that makes sense. Get them in, get them accounted for. I¡¯ll stay with uh, um-¡±


    ¡°What is your name?¡± Jan asked turning to look at me over her shoulder.


    ¡°Pete,¡± I said.


    She pressed thumbs together and then pressed them into her chest, head and finally kissed them.


    ¡°It¡¯s a common enough name outside the heartland,¡± the old man said.


    ¡°Get back to the cages. We will make sure it is safe.¡±


    ¡°But I was told-¡± she said turning to look at me, her eyes dropping to study the torn flesh of my chest.


    ¡°Jan,¡± he said physically turning her head so she looked at him.


    ¡°I have to sew some flesh up here, and then we will make sure eveyrone is safe.¡±


    ¡°But-¡±


    ¡°Jan,¡± he said quickly, ¡°he just killed hundreds of raiders in a night. Zombies are nothing.¡±


    She started to turn back but he put his hand on the side of her face and then slide it to the back of her neck as he pulled her along beside him while he walked.


    ¡°Go back. Make sure everyone is accounted for. Once they are have them fire three times.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Three times when everyone is in the cages.¡±


    ¡°Three times,¡± she repeated as he stopped and she continued around the corner.


    He looked at me for a solid three seconds before coming back.


    ¡°Why do they want to kill me?¡± I asked.


    His jaw dropped a bit but he closed it.


    ¡°Come on we¡¯ll get you sew up and then-¡±


    We¡¯d moved forward enough toward the corner that his eyes found the body of the man, or what was left of the body of the man I¡¯d mostly eaten while charging.


    ¡°Did you-¡± he shook his head but couldn¡¯t seem to pull his eyes away.


    I reached between the flat metal planks to pull the loose wires back out. I pushed the edge of the pants down until they were under the port. They caught on it but I was able to push the wires in one handed.


    I sat down.


    He squatted near me, glancing only once at the weapons belt and the pistol it contained laying on the ground near him.


    When he looked up he met my eyes for only a moment before turning away.


    ¡°Why do they want to kill me?¡± I asked again.


    He let out a long sigh. He very slowly pushed the weapon belt closer to me as he turned around and sat, his back against the lower trailer.


    ¡°You¡¯re not human,¡± he said slowly. Then he looked at me, ¡°Are you?¡±


    ¡°I assumed I was,¡± I said slowly.


    ¡°I appear to be human.¡±


    He reached towards me and indicated the charging port with an open palm.


    I looked down at it then at him.


    ¡°It¡¯s not permanent,¡± I said, ¡°I can break it down?¡±


    ¡°Break it down?¡±


    ¡°Make it go away,¡± I said.


    I tongued the holes where my teeth should be. Still empty.


    ¡°Humans don¡¯t have that,¡± he said seriously, ¡°we don¡¯t survive wounds like those, or eat the brains of the dead.¡±


    ¡°Eat the brains-¡± I said slowly.


    ¡°That wasn¡¯t you?¡± he asked quickly.


    ¡°It was,¡± I said, ¡°but it wasn¡¯t to eat the brains.¡±


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t?¡±


    ¡°It was to eat the implants.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± he said slowly, ¡°the implants. You see how that might be worse right?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± he repeated before tipping his head back and resting it on the trailer¡¯s metal.


    Silence stretched for a while and eventually he spoke.


    ¡°When the world ended in nuclear fire humanity survived in pockets, caves, bunkers, and areas unaffected by the radiation. Then the dead came in waves. Even if humanity avoided the dead, the dead ate everything in their path. They were worst than locusts. Worse than locusts, because they could kill humans as well as cause them to starve.


    ¡°Humanity was scattered and starving. Some survived long enough that the zombies starved to death. A percent of a percent of a percent survived. But their knowledge did not. There were factories and printers that could make anything you could imagine, yet the survivors lacked the knowledge to work such devices or the equipment to power them. The dark ages began and history has no guess at how many years they lasted.


    ¡°Then the gods blessed us. Babies were born who could speak to the system. Suddenly there was currency that could not be stolen or faked. As the grew they were given holy tasks. Power was restored to some printers and items were collected for recycling. The printers printed settlement systems, large metal eggs, that could be transported and then set up.


    ¡°The eggs were distributed across the ruined lands. Once placed and activated the eggs requested scrap. The generation that could hear the demands and followed the divine orders were rewarded with settlement systems. Solar panels, skills and training, holy tasks and divine rewards. The wastelands were clawed back from the monsters and humanity began to thrive.


    ¡°In time every child developed a holy link to the system and humanity began to flourish. Not sitting idle the devils in their hells created new, faster zombies. The gods provided protection in the form of weapons. The devils created disease, and the gods countered with auto-docs. Then the devils created the twelve.¡±


    He rolled his head to look at me. I blinked at him and his eyes dropped. Then he sat up pulling his head away from the metal to stare at my chest.


    He met my eye and I realized that with excess power the non-critical surface damage was healing quickly.


    ¡°You¡¯re one of the twelve,¡± he said, ¡°Pete Redstone.¡±


    ¡°That is my name,¡± I said slowly surprised he knew my second name.


    ¡°You¡¯re a zombie,¡± he said, ¡°you can¡¯t die, and even if you do there are thousands of you. Tens of thousands.¡±


    ¡°Of me?¡± I asked.


    He shrugged. ¡°They don¡¯t look like you. Are you newly arrived?¡±


    ¡°Arrived?¡±


    ¡°You look well fed, healthy. Zombies always look thin, like they are days from starvation.¡±


    ¡°I think,¡± I said slowly, ¡°I was a zombie. I think they kept me on a wall to protect a settlement, or maybe to frighten others. Then the raiders came and something went wrong. Then there were a lot of dead to feed upon.¡±


    He did the thing with his thumbs and whispered something.


    Three shots rang out indicating the others had all returned to the cages.


    ¡°Thank the gods,¡± he whispered.


    ¡°So they want to kill me because I can¡¯t die?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Because your purpose is to kill us.¡±


    ¡°Is it?¡± I asked.


    He swept an arm around and stopped pointing at what remained of the corpse.


    ¡°I only killed animals to eat, something humans do, until people tried to kill me. These people did kill me. They pulled my teeth out and took my eyes.¡±


    ¡°And us?¡± he asked.


    ¡°You haven¡¯t tried to kill me yet,¡± I said.


    The laugh he produced was bitter and short.


    ¡°Ha haha.¡±


    Silence stretched between us.


    ¡°What is it you want?¡± he asked.


    ¡°To eat.¡±


    ¡°Brain? Implants? Is that what you need to survive?¡±


    ¡°No. Food. When I¡¯m injured meat, organs, sometimes bone. I prefer deer and birds.¡±


    ¡°You want to eat?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Yes. I enjoy eating. And learning,¡± I said, ¡°I like learning, but sometimes things are very confusing.¡±


    ¡°Anything else you want?¡±


    ¡°There were boxes in one of the buildings. They made noises. Many together that,¡± I was rocking side to side.


    ¡°Music?¡± he asked, ¡°speakers playing music?¡±


    ¡°Music?¡± I said, ¡°I think I want to listen to that again.¡±


    ¡°How quickly will you heal?¡± he asked.


    ¡°All the fatal damaged is healed. The rest will scab up and fall off and fresh skin will be beneath.¡±


    ¡°No scars?¡±


    ¡°Not when it¡¯s finished.¡±


    ¡°Are you made of metal, like the robots?¡±


    ¡°Metal? No. Flesh. Blood. Bone.¡±


    ¡°Me too,¡± he said. Another bitter laugh followed.


    Silence stretched.


    ¡°Do you know how to use that weapon?¡±


    ¡°The rail gun?¡± he asked, ¡°I suppose you point it at what you want dead and pull the trigger.¡±


    He stared at it without moving for a while.


    ¡°You have to charge it as well, though I don¡¯t know the power requirements.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t you just plug wires in?¡±


    He looked at me, ¡°No.¡±

 12 Clean Exits

    ¡°Clear out,¡± Ted said.


    ¡°I was told to be the first through the door,¡± the bearded man said.


    ¡°Go on then?¡± Ted said stepping back.


    The man¡¯s eyes dropped to the small patch of blood on the rough plank flooring. Most of the body and blood had been spread across several carpets.


    The explosion woke everyone in the early hours of the morning.


    Ted told me everyone believed it was one of the exploration crews, except they were all eventually accounted for and only worked during the daylight.


    Two of the men were killed and the third was injured badly enough he wasn¡¯t likely to survive.


    We stood there waiting until the man cleared his throat.


    I expected Ted to do something, but he hadn¡¯t moved. He wasn¡¯t looking at me either so I didn¡¯t know if he wanted me to do something. It was very difficult to communicate effectively with people. Much of what they meant was purposefully unsaid.


    ¡°Are you going in?¡± I asked.


    ¡°No sir,¡± the man said.


    He glanced at the man beside him and they walked out of the room in the direction we came in from.


    ¡°Now what?¡± I asked.


    Ted let out a sigh.


    ¡°We should clear everyone out and cut power to the building and then wait for three months. And only then check.¡±


    I knew that wasn¡¯t an option because we were leaving tomorrow.


    ¡°Why did those two not leave when you told them to?¡±


    ¡°Politics,¡± he said.


    I didn¡¯t know if I believed him or not, but politics was the word he used to convey that the answer would be complicated, and even if he could explain it he wasn¡¯t going to allow me to resolve the problem.


    ¡°Drill a hole a look through it,¡± Ganna said. The big man stood in the doorway with four armed men behind him.


    ¡°You resolve this,¡± I said to Ted, ¡°I will secure the bikes and the printer and wait in vehicle 4.¡±


    ¡°The council has actually decided to use both bikes as scouts,¡± Ganna said.


    ¡°That was not what was agreed to.¡±


    ¡°I tried to convince them otherwise but they would not change their mind.¡±


    I turned to look at Ted who wouldn¡¯t meet my eyes.


    ¡°Where is the council?¡±


    ¡°Scattered around I¡¯m sure,¡± Ganna said with a smile, ¡°there is still a lot to be done.¡±


    ¡°Where are the bikes?¡±


    ¡°Who knows?¡± he said slowly.


    They stepped out of my way as I left the room. Vehicle two was visible from where I was.


    I lifted the Larkin rail gun and touched the imprint with my thumb. Since it now recognized me as a valid user it quickly came to life. The scope rose up out of the long red rectangle as the grip and trigger lowered.


    ¡°What do you think-¡± Ganna began.


    The ammunition was a third of a nail. The boom-crack of the weapon¡¯s fire was louder to me than the impact of the nail as it passed through Vehicle two¡¯s engine.


    I was able to fire twice more before someone tried to tackle me.


    I dropped the weapon confident the scope would pull back in in a blink and that the heavy strap would catch the weight.


    I was careful not to break bones, but I beat the men bloody, even Ganna, who was stepping away with his hands raised and offering no resistance by the time I finished with the four men.


    ¡°You!¡± I shouted to the man who hadn¡¯t left when Ted had told him to, ¡°Go find the two electric bikes and have them delivered to vehicle four. You have six minutes. Then I will continue to disable the other vehicles. I get the bikes or the lot of you are walking out of here.¡±


    The man opened his mouth but the other man pulled him away.


    I knelt, squatting down near Ganna and lifted his head by his hair. He pushed himself up with his arms to ease the pain in his neck.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡°Do I need to kill you now? I will make it painless?¡±


    ¡°No sir,¡± he said quickly, the words garbled but understandable enough.


    I stared at him, the gas mask¡¯s goggle ports were tinted enough he couldn¡¯t see the color of my eyes.


    ¡°I think you are the type that doesn¡¯t learn,¡± I said slowly.


    ¡°Pete,¡± Ted said from behind.


    ¡°I gave them time,¡± I said, ¡°I was patient. You said they could be reasoned with.¡±


    ¡°I was wrong,¡± Ted said easily, ¡°but Ganna is strong. They will need strong leaders when we are gone.¡±


    ¡°He would kill you if he could,¡± I said.


    There was a sigh, but Ted didn¡¯t argue with me.


    ¡°Come shoot this wall, it will be better than a drill,¡± he said as he walked away.


    It took him only a moment to point. I knelt so the slug wold travel up and out, and then waited for him to get clear of the room before pulling the trigger.


    Firing inside the room was deafening. Literally. I felt the healing fires burning my ears as they repaired the damage.


    The bits of metal didn¡¯t explode like a gunpowder bullet did, which was where the noise came from with those types of guns. In this type of gun the noise came from the nail as it left the weapon and hit the air. Apparently it was moving so quickly that it cracked the air like a spike driven into stone would crack the stone.


    I thought the explanations didn¡¯t make sense but some of the implant¡¯s explanations mirrored how Ted had explained it. It was likely they both understood while I did not.


    Ted reentered the room and spied through the hole.


    ¡°Nothing on the ceiling,¡± he said, ¡°We cut in from the roof.¡±


    The men I¡¯d just beaten bloody were standing, but none of them had weapons in hand.


    ¡°Cut in from above,¡± I said as I passed.


    There was a silent crowd staring at me as I reached the vehicles.


    ¡°Why?¡± someone called out, ¡°We need every-¡± their voices called out but I ignored them.


    ¡°The council went back on their word,¡± I said to the crowd without slowing.


    The bikes were both at the loading ramp of vehicle 4¡¯s trailer when I arrived.


    ¡°The rest are in hiding,¡± Pat said. The old man, a member of the council was standing tall.


    ¡°I do not understand the choices you continue to make,¡± I said as I looked over the two bikes for damage.


    There wasn¡¯t much room, but I lifted them both and set them down on the other side of the trailer¡¯s chest high gate.


    ¡°They assumed no one would risk their survival over-¡±


    ¡°What risk?¡± I interrupted, ¡°I told you what would happen. I explained it. They said- you said, you understood.¡±


    ¡°You were not willing to change your mind,¡± he said with a shrug.


    ¡°That¡¯s correct,¡± I agreed.


    He opened his mouth and then shut it.


    ¡°I cannot trust you,¡± I said realizing that I likely never could.


    ¡°No vehicle will leave until after we have left, and I will need to empty this trailer out and reload it to make sure nothing was taken. I suggest if it was, it is returned.¡±


    Ted found a 9mm ammunition printer in the trapped room while I began to catalog the trailer¡¯s contents again. There were already three of those particular printers in the camp. Possibly more that we had not been informed of once the council had formed.


    It took all night to go through the cargo stored in the trailer behind vehicle 4.


    A thousand rounds of 9mm was missing, but now that we had a printer, that didn¡¯t matter to me that much. Ted suggesting not killing the council members over it and I agreed.


    Besides myself and Ted, sixteen people had decided to travel west with vehicle 4. I had expected more. The trailer it towed was the only one with solar panels and battery cabinets. There were other panels, and other batteries in the settlement that were being loaded into the cage trailers, but not with as much capacity.


    We packed up and I was ready for an attack, but it seemed to be a shared worry because many people did not come to see us off.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry our relationship had to sour like this so close to the end,¡± Nantor, one of the council members said. She and Pat were of an age, both fully gray and stooped as they stood.


    I didn¡¯t respond. They no longer mattered.


    ¡°I hope we can maintain good relation if we meet as trade partners in the future,¡± she continued.


    ¡°You do not keep your word,¡± I said simply.


    ¡°And you are unreasonable!¡± Pat snapped. Ganna reached out and took hold of his arm above the elbow.


    ¡°Still,¡± Nantor said, ¡°I hope we can at least avoid conflict in the future.¡±


    Vehicle 4 started up. The massive engine pumping black smoke into the air above the exhaust pipes.


    I raised the binoculars as I turned around. A man was climbing onto a roof. He lifted his binoculars after setting a rifle down.


    He moved slightly, then saw me looking at him. He set the binoculars down beside the rifle, leaving both as he slid back.


    ¡°We need to go,¡± I said to Ted.


    ¡°We are heading west, and then south,¡± Ted said, ¡°good luck.¡±


    Nantor shook his hand.


    The vehicle rolled forward before we reached the cab. Ted climbed up and over the trailer¡¯s gate and I began sprinting towards the gate between the buildings.


    The boom-crack of the rail gun drew the attention of the men who had gathered in the trenches an hour before dawn. Like the man who had climbed onto the roof, they were betrayed by their implants.


    ¡°Stay in the trench!¡±


    Weapons were tossed out.


    Moments later the huge vehicle and the trailer rolled through the open gate and then turned west. The turn was too sharp and the trailer took out a tall pole.


    I stood there until the massive dust tail was disappearing into the woods.


    Then I approached the men.


    Ted told me I should let them live, but they would have murdered us.


    There were eleven of them, and they stared at me.


    I loosed the straps on the mask and then grabbing the bit that tucked under my chin lifted it off.


    I didn¡¯t so much smile, as I showed my teeth.


    Six of the men made a sign of protection almost at the exact same time.


    ¡°I saved you, and you try to kill us. I should kill you,¡± I said. None of the men met my eye.


    ¡°If I see you again I will. Record their ID tags and set them as hostile.¡±


    ¡°Done,¡± the system said. I hadn¡¯t dropped my voice, but I didn¡¯t care what they thought.


    I sprinted back into town, then circled to the east, keeping clear of the dots that were moving from the back side of the settlement west as if to catch me when I tried to go west.


    Eventually clear I moved south across the road and then headed mostly west, but south enough that I would be several hundred meters south of the road.


    I angled towards the meeting point.


    When I arrived two hours later I had the mask back on.


    Ted was to tell them what I was. If they wanted to leave they would have be allowed to.


    ¡°They need to see it for themselves,¡± Ted said when I arrived.


    I removed the mask and showed my teeth.


    Eight of the sixteen made the sign for protection. There were discussions and arguments while I waited in the cab of the vehicle.


    Ted climbed in and sat down.


    ¡°How many went and what did you give them?¡± I asked.


    ¡°None,¡± he said, ¡°but that doesn¡¯t me they will stay. They came with us because they felt that heading back east will just mean more raids in the future. The plan is still to reach the larger settlements, correct?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°They will stay until we reach the larger settlements.¡±

 13 Class 3

    The notification icon changed. I opened it briefly and saw what I expected, my skill in slings had leveled again.


    Learning from someone who knew what they were doing was so much faster than trying to struggle through it on your own.


    June limped back to toss the carcass on the sled.


    The rail gun rested there, folded up and sealed so that it looked like a large rectangle. The only change to the flat outer shape were the two curved tunnels that allowed the strap to be attached, the cover of the data port, and the slightly etched letters that spelled out Larkin, on each side of the weapon.


    I didn¡¯t have to worry about anyone shooting it. Though they could pick it up and run away if they were strong enough.


    The weapon hadn¡¯t worked for me until I plugged a cable from the port on the back of my neck into the weapon. The familiar voice of the implant system told me the weapon was locked and secured.


    I asked some follow up questions as my neck grew warmer and warmer.


    The system voice cut off mid sentence as a message window appeared. The implant told me over and over it could do nothing.


    The page that eventually opened was titled, [Internal communication, unknown node, critical message push]


    There was only a brief sentence underneath, [unlock successful, user database cleared, new administrator set. Physical ID required to complete set up.]


    The voice didn¡¯t know what the message said, but when I asked what physical ID meant I was instructed to press each of my finger pads into the outlined square on the weapon. As I did the outline changed to blue, blinked twice then went back to white.


    Once I was done with all ten another push message came up informing me the weapon could be used.


    I thought the messages were from the weapon, but a hour into our hunt I received another critical message push.


    The instructions were long and specific and required me to tell the implant to run commands.


    ¡°I have some questions about commands,¡± I said.


    Today my instructor was Gary, an older man who rode on the sled until we stopped. He wasn¡¯t very good with a sling any more but he was very knowledgeable. He was also one of the few people who would spend any time around me.


    The other person today was June, who had informed me she would be given a task because women who didn¡¯t have tasks ended up on their backs and she was no whore. Ted had to explain what whoring was. I explained the woman tied to the small table, the one who had her ears cut off, and Ted shook his head, telling me that was something else entirely, and that I should not speak about the dead. Apparently people did not like to think about other people¡¯s pain.


    Both Gary and June glanced at me and I realized I had spoken out loud.


    ¡°Talking to my implant,¡± I said.


    These two didn¡¯t react any more. One man had called me a liar and stormed off. Some people thought implants were holy, and had issues accepting I might have one.


    ¡°What would the command ¡®nodal attach¡¯ do?¡±


    ¡°Attach is an argument for the command Nodal. Nodal is a command relating to the internal network controlled and firewalled by the implant system. Nodes are often internal hardware modules, co-processor units, linkages to prosthetic devices or external hardware components. The Attach argument will create a bi-directional soft communication pathway. This soft path may require a higher bandwidth physical pathway in which case internal fibers will be grown until parallel communication bandwidth needs are met.¡±


    ¡°What is Leopard Panther Wombat Troy?¡±


    ¡°In the context of the previous conversation topic, it is a layered encryption protocol.¡±


    ¡°Is there danger in attaching a node?¡±


    ¡°Ambiguous Question. There is always danger in attaching anything to any network structure. Nodal networks were designed with protection of the implant as the highest priority. At the lowest level the implant can disengage physically with any hardware.¡±


    ¡°What does ¡®approve connection without signed certificate,¡¯ do.¡±


    ¡°Bypasses the certification authentication process.¡±


    I let out a long sigh then read the long command to the system.


    ¡°Connection established. Co-processor installed.¡±


    The notification icon lit up again and another icon was created along the top. Then another and another.


    They were grayed out except the first one that had appeared.


    [Nodal Network]


    This page showed the implant on top, a power conversion node, that I assumed was the thing in my hip where I plugged in, and a co-processor.


    There were tabs up top. The highlighted one was labeled [Network] most were grayed out. Only one was in the blue I could select.


    [Nodal Upgrade]


    The page changed to show lots of gray icons connected by lines.


    There were two blue options to choose from, both branching down from a grayed out option titled [Simulated co-processor Network Interface] other branches moved down past that.


    Like the map I could expand and contract, zoom, shift, and move the branching structure. Everything else was grayed out.


    [Co-processor Expansion 3/128]


    [Storage Expansion. 1/22]


    I selected co-processor Expansion.


    [You have enough acausal material to create 2 co-processor clusters.]


    ¡°What is acausal material?¡±


    ¡°It is a term often referencing material created outside the laws of our physical reality that allow complex computations of an acausal nature where effect does not necessarily follow cause in the standard cause-effect relationship.¡±


    ¡°Where does it come from?¡±


    There was a long pause.


    ¡°Explanation paths missing too many pre-requisite knowledge paths. No method found to explain to an accuracy greater than seventy percent.¡±


    ¡°Explain without accuracy requirement.¡±


    It had taken me a while to figure out that command, but I often had to use it when my ignorance led me down paths I couldn¡¯t understand due to lacking knowledge.


    She continued to explain and I was lost in thought as I strained against the sled¡¯s yoke.


    ¡°So the AIs created a vacuum space and then willed it into existence?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± the voice said. Even though that was what the explanation she had given me basically said.


    ¡°How did I get this material?¡± I asked instead.


    ¡°Unknown.¡±


    ¡°Best guess.¡±


    ¡°Processing of implant system hardware.¡±


    Oh.


    That made a little bit more sense. I had a craving for the implants because they had this weird material.


    ¡°What do co-processors do?¡±


    ¡°Expand semi-parallel processing capabilities.¡±


    I fell into a fifteen minute back and forth trying to understand what semi-parallel meant until I asked, ¡°what are the effects of having more co-processor units.¡±


    ¡°Computation speed and abilities are expanded.¡±


    ¡°I can think faster?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Implant nodal network processing speed and depth of processing are increased, not biological processes.¡±


    ¡°You can think faster?¡±


    There was a long pause.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    I grinned. I knew it was considering how to answer but I saw humor in the delay.


    ¡°What does storage expansion do?¡±


    ¡°Increased the data that can be stored.¡±


    ¡°What data?¡±


    There was a whole list she began to talk about.


    ¡°What takes up the most space?¡± I asked, interrupting her.


    ¡°Schema takes up a majority of your storage capacity.¡±


    ¡°What is my storage capacity currently?¡±


    ¡°Nine percent.¡±


    Nine. That seemed like nothing.


    I navigated to the menus and selected the co-processors. There was a brief window asking me if I wanted to build one or two co-processors.


    I selected two.If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Nothing seemed to happen.


    I slowed to a stop and took out the sling and a few rocks. The rail gun waited behind me and the strange revolver rested in the hip holster. The ammo it took, like the rail gun, was not the conventional gun power ammo.


    Like the rail gun the sleek revolver had been locked. The data port had been hidden under one of the grips. But once exposed and connected I¡¯d eventually unlocked the gun for use.


    I only fired it once, with Ted as a witness as he had never seen a revolver or ammo like it either.


    There was no noise from the gun when it fired. The ammo looked like a small needle so we hadn¡¯t expected much.


    We couldn¡¯t even find the entry point for the needle in the bark of the tree but the weapon blew a huge cone of wood from the backside of the tree in a loud explosion.


    The sling whistled as it moved and then went silent as I released.


    The stone slammed into a tree trunk. The wind up and release had felt correctly done but the stone had slammed into the tree a full meter away from the target.


    The lizard disappeared.


    I was squinting at it. It didn¡¯t move, it just disappeared.


    They were very good a mimicking the wood behind them. It would disappear first and then slowly move away. I tried finding it as it moved, but I couldn¡¯t spot it.


    I selected another stone from my pouch and set it in the sling, then I waited.


    ¡°Pete,¡± Gary whispered.


    I turned to look at him and saw what had caused him to draw my attention.


    A zombie was slowly shuffling towards us.


    I¡¯d not understood what the word had meant at first, but heading west for the last sixteen days we had come upon clusters of them more than once.


    ¡°Go back to the vehicle,¡± I said tossing the sling on the sled and selecting the long mace and hatchet we had traded for at the previous settlement.


    ¡°Begging your pardon,¡± Gary whispered, ¡°but June isn¡¯t quick, and I¡¯m no spring chicken myself.¡±


    I considered what he said and nodded.


    ¡°Warn the others,¡± I said as I started forward.


    June lifted the pistol she had and fired three shots, waited and fired three again.


    The ones in front reached me at that time and I didn¡¯t pay attention to the warning shots.


    The goal wasn¡¯t to kill them. These were not men with guns who could be a danger even if they were on the ground. I used the long handled mace and hatchet to strike at knees and hips, shattering joints and limiting their mobility.


    None of these had shown up on the network feeds and thus my map, but that was normal enough. It was far more common for a zombie to have a damaged implant than one that worked enough to ping the local networks.


    That didn¡¯t mean I didn¡¯t crave the implants though.


    Ted had made a compelling argument to not eat the implants in front of the others. He did however come up with an excuse to harvest them.


    Sometimes the fibers were intact enough that splitting the skull open and pulling the port would pull the implant out. Other times the fibers and brain had degraded so much that I had to sort around for it.


    Sometimes I didn¡¯t find it even after searching for a significant amount of time.


    Gary said that some humans didn¡¯t have implants, but Ted argued with him about that. If either parent had an implant, than the child would most likely have one. Since hundreds or thousands of years had passed Ted was sure everyone had one.


    Gary had heard stories about tribes of ¡°Pure Humans¡± that lived in animal skins and could transform into beasts.


    The two argued about it, never resolving their differences.


    I learned a lot when those they argued. They were both very smart and seemed to know a lot about a lot of things. Gary though didn¡¯t like to argue and Ted seemed unable to help himself once they started.


    There ended up being only nine zombies in this cluster. With the hatchet I was able to get all nine implants easily.


    Ted explained to the others that the implants would sell for system credits. Like metallic teeth did.


    When I asked the system I found it was not a convenient lie. The system estimated they would each sell for up to one-hundred system credits.


    When we killed zombies I went around to the dead and harvested the implants. Washed them, and then put them in a small pouch. Only in the privacy of the vehicle cab, or in the space near the battery cabinets did I consume them. I didn¡¯t bother to crunch into the ones that weren¡¯t using their fibers as weapons as those were disabled.


    There as only one zombie with boots on and while the clothing was worn and torn into uselessness I recovered two belts and a necklace of bones.


    I took a long looping turn around several trees before returning to the track I¡¯d left in the mud and followed the same track back to the road.


    Everyone had assembled when the shots went out.


    The group was good at processing the carcasses. The smaller animals took much longer, but people got every bit of meat off the bones and then tossed the bones into the large soup pot.


    They ended up boiling the bones, letting them dry while we ate, and then tossing them on top of the cook fires when the dinner was done.


    Then the bones were put in thick canvas bags and crushed with hammers, the bags catching all the pieces. Then the pieces were baked and crushed again.


    The resulting bone meal was used as a fertilizer to help plants grow and supposedly traded well.


    Mostly we ate soup. And nuts. We¡¯d stopped near a marker labeled ruins that was a mile or so off the main road we were traveling on.


    The small detour had been worth the trip.


    I added a note to the map to indicate the settlement ruins had fruit and nut trees.


    We spent a full day and night there. The people were excited about their good luck and worked and worked and worked.


    Even at night they worked in the light of electric lanterns.


    The nuts were easy enough to collect, at least at first. The previous settlement had created False Stumps, which seemed to be large wooden barrels with tree bark nailed into the sides. A small hole accessible from the side allowed squirrels to access the space.


    The barrels were chest high and absolutely full of stored nuts. We emptied those into crates completely before they returned a small layer of nuts to the bottom of the barrels before securing the lids.


    They spent the rest of the time picking up nuts from under the trees and digging up the smaller shoots of trees that were growing beneath the fruit and nut trees as well as processing the rotten fruit beneath the trees for seeds.


    When they had idle time nuts were shelled and the meat was put into jars while the shells were kept for the evening fires.


    A whistle went out and I turned until I could pin point the dot on my map that was likely blowing the whistle.


    As I sprinted out, I saw the dot was approaching instead of staying still.


    He tried to say something to me as he pointed back over his shoulder but he was out of breath. Not that it mattered, I saw what had caused him to flee.


    The zombie was emaciated, the flesh of it¡¯s forearms was so thin that the two bones of the arm were visible.


    The hands though were grotesque knotted things. It was moving fast, and I wasn¡¯t in the habit of studying things when they were trying to kill me. I was used to the weapons I favored. I knew their range.


    I swung the mace toward the knee as I darted to the side.


    The mace made contact and there was a familiar restriction as the head of the mace slowed with contact.


    I moved past and continued on.


    The trees were ancient gnarled things with a dense interwoven canopy. So much so that cutting a tree¡¯s trunk might not be enough to fell the tree as the top clung to its neighbors.


    While that left the forest in darkness, it also meant there was very little underbrush.


    I could see the rest of the zombie cluster a good distance away.


    I jogged instead of sprinting as the rest were moving slowly instead of fast like the last one.


    I felt the wetness at my waist where the weapon belt hung from my hips.


    I glanced down, surprised to see my shirt was covered in blood. I checked the zombies ahead, then checked the wounds. They were shallow enough, and the healing fire had already clotted and scabbed over the cuts.


    I checked behind me. The skinny fast one was scrabbling towards me with it¡¯s hands and good leg.


    It was disturbingly close.


    I backed away when it swiped at me, only then realizing how long it¡¯s reach was.


    I stepped in again, letting it swing and chopping down with the hatchet.


    I caught the thin forearm in the middle and there was little to no Resistance as the hatchet when through it and stuck into the ground.


    I hopped away as it slashed with the other arm.


    Using a two-handed grip I brought the long mace down on the shoulder of the remaining arm. And then on the spine.


    I glanced over, having more than enough time to get the hatchet free, scrap the clinging dirt off on a tree trunk, and then sprinting back toward the vehicle.


    While I was only slashed, if there were more other people might be in danger.


    I couldn¡¯t remember if I¡¯d heard other whistles or gunshots, and a quick query of the implant and map showed everyone was accounted for and clustered.


    They were in the vehicle¡¯s storage area, though with all the supplies it was standing room only. Unlike the covered trailer, the vehicle area was lightly armored and fully enclosed. The air system that heated, cooled, and cleaned the air was nonexistent in number 4, which was why it hauled storage instead of people.


    Ted argued with people when they wanted to clear the cargo out and sleep in it because doors that sealed meant the air would go bad and people would die.


    There were plans on fixing the issue. Discussions on cutting holes in the side and affixing fan to running tubes up and out from behind the armor panels.


    There always seemed to be reasons why a space sealed from the outside air was preferable though and no one ever pushed the issue.


    ¡°Is anyone injured?¡± I asked.


    Ted was on the other side of the cracked open door, ready to close it in an instant.


    ¡°No,¡± he said.


    ¡°Are they clear?¡±


    ¡°Not yet,¡± I said.


    We had three different music devices. I turned the larger one on. The cube was big enough I could use it as a seat. The switch indicated it was on, but there was a delay, and then the device came to life, a small screen allowing different selections to be made.


    I pressed the icon for random and then waited.


    Eventually the zombies approached. Six of the fifty-three had active implants.


    It took nearly an hour to kill them all. I chopped the heads off the zombies as I killed them and tossed or kicked them them into piles to be picked up by others.


    I returned to the faster zombie, what they called a Class 3 Slasher.


    The hands were large balls of growths with no fingers. There were four bone claws inside that resembled blades more than curved animal claws. They were housed in a bone and cartilage sheath that was full of a white pus.


    A muscle sack on the outside of the sheath contracted and forced a thick fluid into the bottom of the sheath. The pus and the knife blade shot out cutting free of the flesh.


    John showed me how it all worked as he cut into the hands to process the blades. The bone blades were fifteen centimeters long, and the edge was covered in a small layer of metal in much the same way my upper teeth were.


    ¡°They won¡¯t rust,¡± John said, ¡°and they stay sharp enough unless you try to use them like chisels. See this area here, where the bone is more, um, well it¡¯s not porous, but you can tell there is less of it.¡±


    ¡°Dense?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± he said without any evidence he agreed, ¡°but see these ridges, they are, um, more dense, so you can drill holes in these gaps here and attach a sort of wooden hilt. It goes up the back side of the knife blade and sort of cups the bottom. If you drill into the bottom here or into the middle of the blade it will shatter and break. Best knives there are for skinning or butchering, but it takes a bit of practice to use them. You can cut into a bone easily with one, of these. Not that the cutting in is the problem. The blades are fine with that, but people tend to wiggle it out front to back like, which also isn¡¯t a problem exactly. But when they do they go side to side a bit as well. Cracks the blade right in half the long way if you do that. With a steel blade you can wedge in like that, but with these bone blades you can¡¯t flex them at all like that, only sort of pressure they can take is from the front.¡±


    Ted was overseeing the processing of the heads.


    A head would be lined up, split with a hatchet and then pulled apart by two people with gloves. The brains, more often a black clinging goop than anything that resembled brain matter, would be scooped out into a bowl. Bits of the goop would be pressed against the side and swiped out until the implant was found.


    Often it still had a mass of fibers attached to it so it resembled a dandelion head covered in syrup. The device itself was a bent oval shape, smaller around than a finger nail and thicker in the center than the edges.


    It was an unmarked smooth gray stone-looking thing when the fibers were rubbed off.


    ¡°These better be worth more than a credit,¡± Aden grumbled. The man wouldn¡¯t leave the the protection of the vehicle even to hunt or gather. He even shit by leaning up against one of the massive tires and shitting into a shallow hole he dug if the privy hole was dug to far away or it was too dark out.


    He would stay awake all night even if he wasn¡¯t on watch and do any chore or task given to him so long as he wasn¡¯t more than forty running paces from safety.


    He did complain a lot, but if given a task he did it.


    ¡°Up to a hundred credits,¡± I said.


    He jumped and twisted, his hand dropping to the gun on his hip. He let out a slight yelp and pulled his hand away from the gun letting it float in the air as he stared at me. I had to remember to make more noise when I approached others from behind.


    ¡°Settlement credits, maybe,¡± Mac said, ¡°If you¡¯re lucky enough to find a place that pays for zombie bounties any more. Recyclers don¡¯t care about dead zombies. You get a single system credit for a hundred kilos of iron, again, if you¡¯re lucky. Best scrap is circuit boards, displays, anything that rotates like a fan or engine. Anything with the icon or wireless charging. In general if it works you sell it to a settlement, if it don¡¯t you sell it to a scrapper. Let them take on the danger of transporting it to the recyclers.¡±


    ¡°My father looted a bunker once,¡± Kelly said, ¡°got some big heavy pieces of tech. Lots of wires ran to it. He¡¯d never take less than twenty system credits for it. Held onto the thing for years. Eventually he left to take it to a recycler himself,¡± she said holding up a cleaned off implant and tossing it into the shallow bowl of water with the others.


    ¡°He came back,¡± she said with a laugh, ¡°Eight years later and he came back. Said the heavy thing was only worth six credits!¡±


    She let out a bark of a laugh and shook her head.


    ¡°He got more credits from random scrap than he had that big ol¡¯ piece of tech.¡±

 14 Trading Etiquette

    I was reading through and trying to understand the upgrades in the nodal network tree. Some seemed obvious enough. Enhanced Targeting created a system to help target moving objects. Thermal Vision allowed seeing into the infrared. Both of them were under a component called Bionic Eyes, which itself was under a component titled Cyberware Control Node.


    Both Cyberware and Bionic eyes had a whole list of prerequisites and material lists including missing schema. Even if I had the material I wasn¡¯t able to build something without a schema.


    Three more co-processors and a system called a SMSP - Simple Material Storage and Processing would allow me to access to a replacement Redundant Power Distribution System. Many descriptions were listed as ¡®enhancing¡¯ some other system. Co-processors enhanced the implant¡¯s parallel processing power. A few of the systems used different words, including, ¡®replacing¡¯ and ¡®hardening.¡¯


    The redundant system would actually replace the current system. Not that I understood anything about the current system. The implant system couldn¡¯t help me understand either, except to tell me what words meant.


    Ted believed the two systems might not be part of the same system, that they didn¡¯t speak to each other. Which seemed like a good guess.


    After the Redundant Power Distribution System was built I would have the ability to create Energy Storage Reserve Nodes.


    Currently I used the rail gun as an external energy storage device. It could be charged up in the trailer without any issues if people noticed. In private I could run wires from the utility port on the weapon to the port on my hip. While the weapon could hold a large charge, it could not transfer it to me with any speed.


    My current plans were to focus on the co-processors, then the SMSP. Then redundant power, and finally energy storage.


    The next bottle neck would be the Cyberware Control Node but to make that I needed schema I didn¡¯t have and nine miligrams of acausal material.


    The issue was that co-processors required hundreds of implants each. Technically they required fourteen micrograms of acausal material A, eleven micrograms of acausal material B, and four micrograms of acausal material C, and trace amounts of acausal material D.


    To gather enough material to create a Cyberware Control Node, I¡¯d need to harvest tens of thousands of implants. And that was assuming Ted¡¯s math was correct, which he continued to inform me was unlikely.


    While I didn¡¯t talk to Gary about the implants, he confirmed the math.


    The implant systems explained that there were only four types of acausal material, and the naming convention was cemented behind forty-billion hours of computational history before humans were informed of the discovery.


    ¡°May I speak with you,¡± Ted said interrupting me.


    I looked up and around. I was wedged between crates near the batteries in the trailer. Gary was driving.


    ¡°Yes,¡± I said.


    Ted winced as he knelt. He shifted as the trailer adjusted with a slow spring as we rolled over some ditch or fallen tree. Gary like driving, but the rest complained. He didn¡¯t often slow, even for larger obstacles.


    ¡°This things got impressive shocks,¡± he said once at dinner, ¡°Might as well use them.¡±


    ¡°Oooff,¡± Ted said as he sat down hard.


    ¡°I wanted to talk to you about what you said yesterday,¡± he whispered.


    While there were people in the trailer, they were near the other end processing nuts, sewing, cleaning weapons, or processing scrap and feeding the ammo printer.


    I waited. Ted often brought up a subject and then got quiet as he thought about things. I didn¡¯t understand why he didn¡¯t do his thinking before he spoke, but he was smarter than I was so there was likely a reason I couldn¡¯t think of.


    ¡°When you said the implants were worth one hundred credits, where did you get that number from?¡±This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    ¡°My implant evaluated it.¡±


    ¡°They were system credits?¡± he asked with wide eyes?


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°And you eat them?¡± he asked.


    Except maybe he wasn¡¯t asking. He had seen me eat them. Sometimes he asked questions about things he knew the answer to. I said nothing.


    ¡°You¡¯ve sold these before?¡± he asked.


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± he said with a smile, ¡°I knew there was-¡± he was shaking his head.


    ¡°Prices change,¡± he said slowly, ¡°and you never know what they are unless you buy a price list from a trader or a scrapper, but that information is old when you get it ans not system information.¡±


    ¡°What does system information mean?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a note someone took. System information is verifiable, it can¡¯t be faked. A trader can put anything in his notes.¡±


    ¡°The big recyclers have been around for hundreds of years. The kingdoms that control them have hundreds of storage cubes of iron and other common materials. Prices are rarely expensive based on material components, and are instead expensive because of built time and energy costs. If you want to build before other people you pay for the privilege. If the printer takes longer, you pay more.


    ¡°To get system credits you have to buy them from other people with settlement credits or earn them from recycling scrap. Except that the price for scrap is low if the printer has enough of that material. So scrappers work harder and harder getting less and less for their loads while printing still costs an arm and a leg.


    ¡°The only people getting rich are the kingdoms that control the printers and there are only a limited number of those, unless the rumors of the Empire are true. If they are we are, all of us fucked.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    He turned to look and me then shrugged.


    ¡°The stories say they were driven across the scar and survived. That they vowed to wipe us out upon their return. They say they are printing printers.¡±


    ¡°Printing printers?¡± I asked.


    He shrugged, ¡°I don¡¯t even know if it can be done. Everyone official says they can¡¯t of course. But perhaps we no longer have the schema for it. More than likely they don¡¯t want to share the power they have. Anyone with a printer knows the value comes from the fact that no one else has access to one. How long ago were you at a printer?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±


    He glanced at me as he patted his jacket pockets looking for something.


    ¡°How long since the system price list was updated?¡±


    I asked the implant.


    ¡°Three hundred eleven years,¡± it replied. That meant I hadn¡¯t updated prices since I¡¯d been at the Terminus Arcology settlement, wherever that was.


    ¡°More than fifty years,¡± I said thinking it would be unwise to tell him the true number.


    ¡°Nine gods!¡± he whispered as he shook his head, ¡°I forget- though I don¡¯t know how. Now with watching you heal and the like but- nine gods,¡± he said in another whisper as his hands went back to exploring his pockets.


    He produced a hard leather case from one and his pipe from another. The leather case was two thin leather cups that fit tightly together. Inside he had a shredded leaf he began to pack into his pipe.


    ¡°My mother thought printing printers would just take too long. The more complex the item being printed the longer it takes. She figured something that printers had to be the most complex things to print, since they can print everything else. Printing printers must also take a lot of time in the testing phase.¡±


    ¡°The what?¡±


    ¡°Testing phase. Some items with thinking parts print, but sometimes fail the tests. Those components are recycled and printed again.¡±


    ¡°Why don¡¯t-¡± I shifted toward the front of the trailer as we slowed rapidly to a stop. This wasn¡¯t someone easing off the acceleration lever, it was them jerking it back to a stop.


    ¡°Six others,¡± I said when I checked the map. I thought I had set an alert to warn me when-


    Oh.


    I¡¯d asked the implant to warn me when hostiles were on the local feed, not unknown pings. Another lesson to be learned.


    I ducked under the rail gun¡¯s strap and began winding through the stacked crates and people for the back of the trailer.


    I shifted my grip on the hatchet and mace as I began to jog forward.


    I was expecting a huge swarm of zombies, if six of them still had active pings. Instead I saw a tiny vehicle like one of the burned out scrap pieces we sometimes saw. Except this was clearly built from scrap.


    It was a tenth the size of the huge vehicle 4. It had no sides and four seats. There were three men kneeling behind it with weapons.


    Two men in front of it were holding a long pole with a bit of cloth on top and a sixth man was laying on the ground hands over his head as ropes trailed behind him to a downed piece of lumber he had been dragging along.


    I was noticed, but I stopped and retreated to the back of the trailer, jogging around behind it and up the right side.


    I had the rail gun in danger mode, ready to fire, so climbing up the side of the vehicle was difficult enough. The fact that who ever was driving shifted from drive mode to docked mode, knocked me off the side as the vehicle¡¯s suspension dropped the six or so feet until the massive frame was sitting on the ground. I heard the trailer shifting as I got off the ground. The hatch above me opened and John was backing out of it.


    When he turned he saw me, and said, ¡°He¡¯s here.¡±


    He reached back in and then produced the slim gas mask.


    I pulled the strap over my head, and then stretched the bottom out until it fit over my chin. I felt the material adjust for my face size before a small ding informed me it was complete.


    The weapon was ready again a moment later as I eased around the front right.


    Six dots on the map, and six in front of me. I aimed above their heads and pulled the trigger.


    The boom-crack shattered the silence.


    ¡°On the ground!¡± I called out as I took aim.


    Ted said you were supposed to give people a change to surrender before you shot the ones who wouldn¡¯t listen.

 15 Unexpected Gunfire

    The men did as they were told, rather quickly in fact.


    Ted rushed out and let the men up almost instantly and I got an explanation about white flags and trade relations.


    Walnut Grove had three hundred some residents, or so the men claimed. We had to travel sixty kilometers to reach the settlement.


    The small vehicle only had four seats. The last two clung to the side. They would speed up to slow down and switch positions. Then speed back up in front of us as they led us back to their settlement.


    Outside the settlement was the same table, chairs, and a pole with a white flag.


    While we were in a strong trading position they had very little with which to trade.


    Eventually the discussion transitioned to schema.


    When I offered all the schema¡¯s I had Ted asked to speak to me.


    Three other times he had to take me off to the side to have conversations about things I¡¯d said that I shouldn¡¯t have.


    He explained for a while, the two other men waiting on their chairs.


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand,¡± I said, ¡°they only take up storage space. We don¡¯t loose them if we make a copy do we?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Ted said slowly rubbing his face.


    They might have a schema I could us, but Ted said I wasn¡¯t to ask for any specific item or they would raise the price.


    ¡°This is taking too long,¡± I said.


    I walked past Ted, who I heard sigh.


    Both men looked past me at him before looking at me.


    ¡°We have an ammo printer. 9mm,¡± I said, it was something I wasn¡¯t supposed to tell anyone.


    ¡°I want all your schema. We will give you all our schema. We have-¡± I realized I didn¡¯t know what schema the people with me had.


    ¡°My people will sell you all their schema for 0 credits, then you will sell each of us all your schema for 0 credits. You will provide scrap for ammo and will will give you half of the ammo we¡¯ve already printed.¡±


    I looked at Ted and he shrugged.


    ¡°Thirteen thousand rounds, so six and a half thousand roughly,¡± he said.


    That wasn¡¯t what I was asking.


    ¡°My people will stay with the vehicle and go into your settlement in pairs. None of your people will approach the vehicle. If this is not acceptable I will fire the rail gun into your system settlement system, batteries, and solar panels. If anyone leaves, I¡¯ll kill them.¡±


    ¡°What else did we have that was valuable?¡± I asked Ted.


    ¡°The fruit tree saplings,¡± he said, ¡°vegetable seeds, ammo in various-¡±


    ¡°None of the ammo we can¡¯t print,¡± I said, ¡°a few seeds for every plant we have if we can spare them. Get seeds from them as well if they have some we don¡¯t. What else?¡±


    ¡°Music files-¡± Ted began.


    ¡°Give all the music and get everything them have. Anything that¡¯s data give them.¡±


    ¡°Maps and books?¡± Ted asked.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    Silence stretched. The two old men hadn¡¯t reacted.


    ¡°Will they run or attack?¡± I asked Ted.


    ¡°They will send five or ten runners at the same time in different directions,¡± Ted said, ¡°likely they have a dug-in bunker behind the vehicle already.¡±


    I checked the map.


    ¡°Six people,¡± I said with a nod, should I kill them?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Ted said calmly to me, ¡°these men will approach those six and take them back to the settlement with them.¡±


    ¡°Will they trade with us?¡± I asked.


    Ted sighed letting out a long breath.


    ¡°Do you have a council or a king?¡± Ted asked.This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    ¡°Council,¡± the men said after sharing a look.


    ¡°You,¡± I said pointing at one of the men, ¡°go back. Explain to them what is going to happen.¡±


    I took the mask off peeling it up and staring at them until one man tipped back far enough in his chair to fall over.


    I waited for Ted to help him up and put him back in the chair.


    I took the knife off from my belt, took my seat across from them, and cut into my forehead from mid forehead to the hair near my right ear.


    Then I sheathed the knife while the white hot healing fire attacked the injury. Knitting the cut closed.


    When I felt it stop bleeding I swiped my hand across the cut once in the hope they would better see the wound close.


    I waited until they stopped staring at the cut and were alternatively meeting my eyes and looking away, clearly not sure where to look.


    ¡°If you kill any of my people,¡± I said as I stood, ¡°I will destroy this settlement and kill as many of your people as I can. Do you understand?¡±


    They both nodded.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be in the woods,¡± I said to Ted. Then I paused.


    ¡°I can track your implants on the map,¡± I said to the men, ¡°Yours is-¡± I read the man¡¯s ID off and then did the same for the other man.


    Their eyes widened a bit.


    ¡°Don¡¯t send runners out,¡± I said, ¡°I don¡¯t want to kill them.¡±


    I watched through the binoculars as Ted and John pulled the sled from vehicle 4 to the trade negotiation table.


    The settlement had sent a man out there. The six beyond us were back in the settlement and I was watching the map more than I was looking through the binoculars.


    There was an animated discussion where it looked like the man was screaming at Ted.


    Ted didn¡¯t react except to nod occasionally. The man finally tossed up his hands and stalked back to the settlement letting them haul the sled as they followed.


    I could see a crate, likely containing the ammo, as well as plants of some sort as well as an assortment of other things.


    Before I entered the woods, while the men were explaining to the six that they had to give up the bunker and return to the settlement, I plugged into the three music boxes and copied the files over. They all had the same set of files already.


    Sharing schema with the others was a bit odd. I learned that most of them couldn¡¯t store more than four or five schema within their implants. While I had room to spare.


    As such I was only waiting for the public and private schema prices to change to zero credits.


    Ted was in the settlement, in a room with nine people with a cluster of others around it.


    He told me that it would take a long time, hours he expected, to convince them.


    It only took an hour before there was a job task on the settlement feed.


    I accepted it. The task required me to upload all my schema for a reward of 0 settlement credits.


    Nothing happened for a while, and then a list of files appeared and began to transfer.


    I cleared the screen and checked the map. Everyone was clustering together in different buildings within the settlement.


    I accepted the task to upload music. And the task to upload books, though it appeared I did not have any of those.


    When it became available I accepted the download of all public and private data for zero credits.


    It took five hours to transfer the data. Ted and John had returned to the trailer with a sled stacked full of items. Ted and Gary walked back to the trade table.


    Two men from the settlement waited with them. They were talking freely but about what I couldn¡¯t guess.


    I learned how to prioritize data transfers.


    They didn¡¯t seem to have cyberware schema of any sort. Only weapons, solar panels, batteries, and ammo.


    I downloaded all the books first. There were four-thousand and all of them transfered faster than a single schema had.


    Most of the books were fiction, which meant the stories in them weren¡¯t true. There were only a few hundred books that were non-fiction. Most of those seemed to be historic in nature, though there were books about gardening and working with lumber.


    There was a four book series on furnaces and forges. And another about the history of flight. Ted was going to love that one.


    When the transfer was finished I checked the map, and then edged up over the ridge I was behind using the binoculars to see what Ted was doing.


    Ted and the two men from the settlement were sitting while Gary was telling some sort of story with his hands.


    I gave it ten minutes, but no one moved.


    I checked the map, moved farther into the trees and pointed the weapon up. I fired three times as quickly as I could. The weapon was powerful, could store a massive amount of energy, but it could not fire rapidly.


    I checked the map as I moved to the backside of the trailer. The dots were moving, both of mine coming back while the other two were already in the settlement. They must have run.


    The engine started while I climbed into the trailer.


    ¡°Stay in cover everyone,¡± Ted called out, ¡°This is almost over with.¡±


    Ted led me back to the spot I normally sat near the batteries.


    I plugged in the the rail gun as I sat.


    ¡°That was,¡± he said slowly, ¡°the best trading session I¡¯ve ever been a part of. We got seeds and egg laying ducklings. They are the cutest little things. They thought they would receive twenty schema at the most,¡± he said with a small laugh.


    ¡°I¡¯d have been happy being on the other end of that trade,¡± he said with a grin.


    ¡°They didn¡¯t believe it by the way,¡± he said.


    ¡°The teeth, the red eyes, the healing- They didn¡¯t believe it. Too many rumors of the demon gangs, the settlements where they worship demons. They believed the rail gun though. Someone had seen one before and saw yours with binoculars. If we trade like this again we might have to show overwhelming power first, or better yet not do it this way again. If you give me access to the storage you have I can trade with just that and the ammo. Telling them we have a printer was-¡±


    He let out a long sigh and went about packing his pipe.


    ¡°I thought- think it is foolish. Even if you can kill them, they can still kill some of us first. I could have got the blankets, ducklings and seeds with half- a quarter of the ammo you gave them.¡±


    ¡°I do not understand that,¡± I said.


    ¡°Understand what?¡± he asked using a lighter to light his pipe.


    ¡°It cost us little and is very valuable to them. It would be one thing if it was ammo we could not replace but when it cost us so little-¡±


    A gun shot rang out. I paused, switched to the map but saw no other dots. I pushed past Ted¡¯s rising form needle revolver out of it¡¯s holster.


    People got out of my way, even though the interior of the trailer was packed full.


    ¡°I- I-¡± one of the men said, ¡°it was an accident,¡± he said as the trailer lurched as it began to slow.


    ¡°I was cleaning- I thought it was empty,¡± he said glancing around as everyone gathered.


    ¡°I thought-¡±


    ¡°Is anyone hurt?¡± Gary asked as he reached the and took the pistol from his hands. A cleaning kit was set out on the crate in front of him.


    ¡°No. It went out the side,¡± he said pointing.


    ¡°I¡¯m really sorry.¡±