《Deadman (A Post-Apoc Litrpg)》Book 2 Ch 34: Whispers in the Wastes
Advertisement
The next part of my journey was quieter, but in spite of that I stayed on edge the entire time. I’d gotten cocky, sure of myself, and I’d nearly died because of it. The monsters I’d encountered, both the strange coyote and the horrifying man-wyrms that I’d encountered had reminded me of how dangerous things in the wastes could be. I ‘d come to think of myself as the top of the food chain, and in nine out of ten situations, that had been true, but that last tenth meant I needed to be ready for anything, and make fewer assumptions. Especially while I was still traveling across the Cut.
I moved more deliberately, keeping my senses open, inhaling deeply and searching for any scent of predators or raiders. I was still in the deadzone, but I didn’t know the deadmen on this side. It was best not to trust anyone by default, even if I had my people’s best interests in mind.
I also kept on the lookout for any sources of water or food. I’d eaten too deep into my reserves in order to recover from the attacks I’d suffered and was now down to rationing. I’d walked through a small patch of heavily irradiated rain, so my water stores were at least partially recovered, but even that would need to be completely replaced before I could walk back to my side of the Cut. I’d reached the point of no return, and would need to resupply before making the return trip. I considered possibly hunting a few of the man-wyrm, but couldn’t bring myself to fully consider it. I’d do it, but it was my last option by far.
The one good thing about the man-wyrms was that the system recognized them as human, which meant I’d been able to benefit from fighting them.
Congratulations Citizen! You have earned ranks in Long guns! Good job exercising your 2nd amendment rights!
Congratulations Citizen! You have earned a rank in tracking! Like the brave indian on the fertile grasses of the west following herds of buffalo, you carry on a proud tradition!
Excellent work Marshall! You’ve successfully performed a secondary goal of your job ‘Combat’! You’ve earned 60 Patriot Points!
Excellent work postman! You’ve successfully performed a secondary goal of your job ‘Protecting the Cargo’! You’ve earned 50 Patriot Points!
Advertisement
While I appreciated the ranks and points, the reminder that those creatures were, at least in some way, human was unwelcome.
While I was glad to be out of those caverns, one thing still bothered me.I still felt hot. Like there was something cooking just beneath my skin. I’d expected it to fade away as I moved further from the intense radiation I’d encountered in the caverns near the Cut, but it hadn’t. My body had seemed to be regulating itself to match whatever rads were hitting it, but now it seemed to be stuck on overdrive. It wasn’t painful, luckily, but it was uncomfortable.
I didn’t encounter anything for several days. My assumption was that the man-wyrms had hunted the area clean, or anything that had survived was good enough at hiding that I myself was unlikely to run into it. Eventually I crested a hill and had to cover my eyes as a burst of light blinded me. I pulled out my gun and took a breath, but didn’t smell anything other than the clean smell of metal, and didn’t hear anything approaching, so I holstered it and let my vision adjust. The light was a reflection coming off the horizon. It was a massive patch of what looked to be metal as far north and south as I could see.
The directions that the pilgrim had given me came back into my mind.
“Through the forest of teeth, across the metal wastes, walk without rhythm as you cross the abyss, they will notice you otherwise, the black sand whispers and seeks flame, do not give it what it wants. Follow this path and you will find paradise.”
I’d bet my remaining food that I’d just found the metal wastes. The reflection that had blinded me seemed to have come off of what looked from a distance to be a large metal spire some distance ahead of me. I approached cautiously. The vagueness of the instructions had already made me underestimate the dangers I’d encountered so far. I didn’t blame the Pilgrim though, I was grateful to have received any instruction at all.
As I got closer, I began to recognize the shapes of what I was seeing. The metal, the parts that weren’t scrap, was all planes. Every single piece as far as the eye could see was a propeller, a chassis, or a wing. Most of them looked to be small, able to fit just one or two people, but towards the center of clusters of those smaller ones were massive vehicles I couldn’t even begin to imagine being airborne. All of the planes seemed to have been moving East when they were brought down, and as I approached them, I found myself imagining the wave of metal and death they likely represented when they were in the air.
Advertisement
I realized something else. The planes had writing on them, and flags, and not a single one was american. I didn’t recognize the majority of them, but there were a few I was able to pick up thanks to books I’d read. One was Russian, one Chinese, and another I recognized was Russo-Japanese. This had been an attack force. I had no indication of what their target was, aside from that it was likely further east, but one thing was frighteningly clear. They’d all been stopped at the exact same time. A few planes had made it farther than others. Some even looked to have managed something approximating a proper landing, but they’d all wound up here.
When I was close enough, I started to look closer into each plane. Those few with still sealed cockpits had just skeletons sitting in them, some shattered, some oddly intact. Even if they’d managed to land safely, this area was likely radded to hell shortly after their arrival. They didn’t have a chance at survival. I took the time to pick through a few of the planes, figuring I may find a weapon, rations, or maybe a canteen I could use, but I found the majority of them had been picked clean. Those planes with heavy guns on them had them removed, I found no ammunition of any kind aside from some unusable pistol ammo in a few of the sealed cockpits I decided to smash open. Whoever had looted everything was now very well armed, particularly if they figured out some way to manufacture more ammo for the weapons they’d looted. Considering I was sure only deadmen could survive in the wastes where I was, I was beginning to form some theories as to who it could’ve been, but I’d need to confirm them before I could do anything.
I did find what smelled vaguely like american MREs in a few cockpits, and some canteens with water still sloshing around in them. Those I gratefully used to restock some of my supplies, though I was still hoping to find some source of fresh meat. Once I was done with my looting I took shelter in one of the larger planes with its door hanging open. I’d been walking for around eighteen hours and wanted to take some time to read before I went to sleep. I cracked open a well worn book, the fourth Gavain book and read for a few hours before going to sleep.
…
I awoke in the middle of the night, raising the pistol and breathing heavily, sweat on my brow. I could hear voices outside of the plane, I didn’t recognize them, but they were yelling and sounded as if they were in distress. I crept over to where the plane door was, but realized that the voices weren’t coming from there, but further up, from the sealed cockpit. I shook my head. I knew I’d checked the whole plane over before deciding to sleep there. I moved to just outside the cockpit door, my breathing was heavy, and my heart rate increased as a tinge of red came over my vision. I strained my hearing in order to better make out what they were saying, but realized they weren’t speaking english. I made out the word “Nyet” and nothing else. Survivors was my first thought, but that wasn’t possible.
I pushed the door open, and suddenly, the voices stopped. I carefully moved toward the pilot chair and saw the same skeleton that was there before, dead long before I arrived in the metal wastes. I moved back to the small space where I’d made camp, collected my things, and started back on my trek. I had traveled long enough alone that I was craving company, but not so badly I couldn’t afford to be selective.
Advertisement
- In Serial6 Chapters
Orbital Station 47c
Senior Medical Officer Valerie Helvetica Carlisle is having a very bad day. First, the military base she was assigned to as a civilian medical practitioner got bombed to hell by rebels no one really cared about. Then, she awoke super confused, on the other side of the galaxy, with her body in pieces in a cryogentic pod, on a station that had been abandoned centuries ago due to a suspected plague. Homelessness is a bitch, especially when it's your body that you got kicked out of. She has to find a way to get back into her body, get answers from the purple dude in the cryopod next to hers, and find a way either home or at least forward. She has no idea which, really.
8 52 - In Serial9 Chapters
The Gambit of the Gods
Tony ain't nobody's bitch. Or at least he wasn't in Downtown Las Vegas where he worked for people doing things that aren't legal in any sense of the word. Some people would call him a 'thug' or a 'goon', but Tony always preferred the term enforcer. So when he wakes up in the middle of a forest and doesn't recall anything from the night before he figured he's run out of luck. Always was going to happen it's Vegas after all. He was very wrong. He's been chosen to be the 'Pathfinder' whatever that means in some game for the god's amusement. He's not amused. He's nobody's bitch not even a god's.
8 153 - In Serial43 Chapters
Uzziye became a florist
This is the story of Uzziye Bakker, a woman that one day stopped fooling herself and changed her life; but retiring from her adventurer life to become a florist became the most dangerous thing she ever did. The first step she took was accompanied by near-death experiences, torture, enslavement, rape, kidnapping, and imprisonment. However, she’s a strong woman that transforms those painful memories into lessons and continues facing injustice with a wider and wiser perception. So no matter how many times the world tries to break her, and her loved ones, even if the future is grim, nothing will stop her from fulfilling her dreams. Disclaimer. This work is fictional, any resemblance with reality is a mere coincidence.
8 241 - In Serial13 Chapters
Chronicles of Nirn
On hiatus while I rewrite. Freyja is more than your average adventurer . . . That is, she would be if any adventurer could be called average. She travels across Tamriel with her family. Crazy politics, troubles with local villages, relationship problems- bad luck always seems to find this unfortunate traveler at the worst times. Will Freyja survive life's heartlessness? Or will she be overcome beneath its ruthless trampling? Follow alongside to uncover this unhappy traveler's fated path! Note: This is book one of a five book series. Note: I had help from the Royal Road community to write the synopsis. Special thanks to all the authors that contributed! Important!!!: This is an Elder Scrolls/Skyrim fanfiction. I do not own nor claim any sorts of rights to the incredible game Bethesda has created! I’m writing this for fun. [WARNING!!: Contains beheadings, backstabbings, murders, lots of gore, mild swearing, drugs, and the use of alcohol. Content may not be suitable for all audiences.] This is my first book, so please don’t judge the grammar too harshly. I’m leaving all the editing for when it’s done anyway. Note: I am writing on Webnovel, Scribble Hub, and Royal Road. IMPORTANT!!: I will be working mainly with the user Lyric_Drake. I give credit to them, because they have helped develop the story and what will come afterwards. They also helped with lore and character design. And they came up with the title! So great job Lyric_Drake, and thank you!
8 98 - In Serial20 Chapters
The Princess And Her Warmonger
"Let me tell you a true story about a mouse and a Warmonger, and the unlikely relationship that sprouted between them in the time of endless war." Nostalisk is a world in endless constant war. The Factions of this world endlessly fight for power, this fighting called the Great Wars, a war that has been alive for over four million years. Currently, one of the largest Factions has withdrawn from the endless fighting. This Faction, known as the Kingdom, hopes to forget their past of endless bloodshed and how they were almost destroyed because of it. In the Kingdom, Princess Isalene, the only princess of the Kingdom, is stuck choosing a new personal guard after her previous one died. Despite her father, King Robert, helping her choose a new guard, Isalene decides to head to the arena to see how the knights on the list her father gave her act outside of the eyes of royals. When she arrives at the arena, she sees a knight fighting that is not on the list her father gave her. Named Cruel Knight, this knight is a vicious knight with confusing morals. Despite hating violence, Princess Isalene can't help but be drawn to the knight and their graceful yet cruel fighting style and strange weapons. Princess Isalene continues to watch them and soon learns that Cruel Knight is a Warmonger named Sharia, and is female at that, meaning she is a prisoner. She isn't in there for something simple as disobeying a direct order or killing a noble, but for prolonging a war. Despite knowing this, Princess Isalene can't stop thinking about the Warmonger and suddenly gets a "smart" idea. She'll make Sharia her new personal guard to find out more about her! What could go wrong? And so begins the odd relationship between Sharia The Warmonger and Princess Isalene. One is a peace-loving sheltered naive princess who hates violence and the other is a vicious, cold, twisted, and cruel Warmonger who hates the kind of peace Isalene and the current Kingdom loves. Polar opposites. Yet, even the Warmonger can't help but grow a strange liking to her new "annoyance". But, can the two really get along? After all, Sharia's whole mindset sees Isalene as a waste, and it seems that everyone Isalene talks to tells her to fire Sharia before something terrible happens. But, then again, during this time of budding danger, this odd couple may be what the Kingdom needs. After all, when a large faction such as the Kingdom starts growing soft and weak, they become a rather irresistible target. [After thinking on it, I decided to start a re-write of The Princess And Her Warmonger, adding more details, fixing the switching POVs somewhat, and fixing some of the issues with the story. Don't worry, all of the chapters are still here, I am just making new ones and replacing the old chapters one at a time] (This story can also be found on Scribble Hub and Webnovel) [Cover art is not mine]
8 100 - In Serial12 Chapters
Blade of Crom
A band of adventures go out to tackle the dangers of a monster lair.Will they find treasure and glory or does a dark fatih await them in the dark? A short story about Cromwalls Band of Adventurers and the one who leads them.
8 108

