Cloudhawk approached, ready to deliver the killing blow.
“Why are you so intent on destroying our paradise?” Salamander’s helmet and mask were ruined, revealing a head of white hair and a gaunt, wrinkled face. Blood trickled from the corner of his lips in thick rivulets. With what strength remained, he hacked out his words, “Devils… you’re all… just devils!”
Cloudhawk looked down at the old, broken man beneath him. Another aged face emerged in his mind through his memories.
It was a humble face: ordinary, undistinguished, and old. He’d kept Cloudhawk by his side ever since he was a child, teaching him to read, how to live. Cloudhawk was already beginning to forget what he looked like, recalling only his snow-white hair and wrinkled face. He always thought the old man looked like one who’d suffered the world’s ills yet still mourned the state of humanity. He was always staring out into the wastelands with eyes full of longing. In the end, he’d died, never having escaped the life of a scavenger.
In this instant, Cloudhawk saw the two old men as one. He couldn’t bring himself to use his staff. Inwardly, his heart clenched.
What have I done?
With eyes full of hate, Salamander glared at him. “You demon hunters are all hypocrites! May the wastelands curse you. May you all languish in suffering. May you rot in hell for eternity!”
He groped for his dagger with a quivering arm, lifting it from the ground.
He used it to open his own throat.
“Get your head out of your ass!” Artemis was screaming at him from behind, “The sweepers are coming. We’ve gotta go!”
Her pleas reached deaf ears. Cloudhawk didn’t feel any sense of victory or accomplishment after cutting down this old man. On the contrary, his heart sank. He just stared at the bloody corpse for a few moments, and then sank to his knees and closed its dim, glaring eyes. “I’m sorry. Go in peace,” he whispered.
Two maneaters burst into view.
Cloudhawk’s head snapped up and he glared at the beasts with blood-red eyes. He vanished, only to appear a moment later holding his exorcist rod high. With the force of a hurricane, he plowed the staff right into a maneater’s chest.
Boom-!
The pure force of his rage caved the beast’s armor. Even the maneater’s sturdy body couldn’t stop the impact from scrambling its organs.
“Fucking DIE!”
Cloudhawk leapt into the air, summoning another tempest of power which he brought crashing down on the maneater’s head. Its helmet cracked and fell away in pieces while the bone below was split. Its brains were splattered everywhere.
He turned, once more summoning the might of his psychic power. Holding his staff with a white-knuckle grip, he brought it around to meet the second maneater’s cudgel!
Like two tornadoes meeting, the area was buffeted with the force of their collision. Dirt and stone choked the air. Both the hulking monstrosity and Cloudhawk were knocked back a single pace. The young human quickly regained his footing, though, and with eyes the color of murder, he charged again. Incensed with an insanity to match the maneater’s strength, he thrust his staff forward like an arrow. It planted itself in the sweeper’s chest more effectively than a drill and chewed through its armor, its leathery flesh, and exploded from its back through a hole the size of a soup bowl.
The maneater crumbled to the ground with a wail.
Cloudhawk stood amidst the carnage, gasping for breath. He was soaked in blood from head to toe.
Artemis stared with wide eyes and a gaping mouth. The kid had slain two maneaters by himself – it was simply inconceivable. That meant he was almost as strong as she was!
When did this kid become so tough?
To Cloudhawk, the scope of his improvement was clear. In the past, he would have only been able to use his staff twice in a short period of time. From the start of this fight to its bloody end, he’d used it four times. Each strike was stronger than the last, and he could use it twice as often.
“Let’s go!”
Cloudhawk’s berserker rage had exhausted the agitation and sadness in his heart. He hurried over to Artemis, lifted her onto his back, and set off as fast as he could for the outpost. The maneaters were strong but not that fast. Escaping the rest of them was not difficult.
After they returned, Mantis looked over the new outpost leader. He quickly diagnosed the poison Salamander had used and concocted an antidote. Once he injected it into her, she quickly began to recover.
When the Queen heard the news, she hurried back to the fort. She was furious. Their little excursion had almost been fatal. “Did I not make it perfectly clear that you weren’t to go off on a whim?! What were you thinking? Were you thinking at all?”
Artemis was in no mood, and in the face of the Queen’s rebuke, she shouted back, “That’s enough! I’m not gonna sit here while you order me around. Who the fuck do you think I am? Your goddamn toy?!”
The Queen’s fist was coiled tight, ready to strike. A boiling heat flooded the area.
Artemis felt it but was undeterred. “What? Are you gonna kill me? Go on, show us how little our lives mean to you!”
Cloudhawk stepped between the two women. “Alright, that’s enough. It wasn’t pointless. We managed to find sweepers hiding near the outpost. That discovery was important.”
“Hmph, what are you worried about?” Artemis cast Cloudhawk a withering glare. “Our self-righteous demon hunter won’t kill me. I’m still useful. Aren’t I?”
How prideful was the Bloodsoaked Queen? This wastelander’s insubordination was a naked insult. With every passing moment, the threat of murder burned brighter in her eyes.
From the start, these two women had not liked each other, and now their conflict was coming to a head. Eventually, Cloudhawk managed to diffuse the situation once more… but the bad blood was there, and it would only get worse.
1. Depending on the location and one’s BMI, the typical chest wall thickness is about two inches.
83 Relief
Night fell, revealing the twinkling stars strewn across the dark sky. They shone from positions they’d held from time immemorial, like the eyes of the gods silently holding vigil over the toils of mortality.
A petite figure sat atop Greenland Fort, the wind tossing her short hair. Though she’d lived all her life in the wastelands, her skin was smooth and free of blemishes. She suffered no tumors, and her features were normal and healthy. There was only the impetuous expression spread across her face to detract from her beauty.
She was like a lioness of the wilds: untamed, beautiful, and ferocious. A fifteen-year-old boy was with her, and the two drank beneath the starlight. The young man was thin as a rake, but his body was lithe and shrewd. He had a head of tousled black hair. His eyes were especially unique – clear and bright.
“I know that demon hunter doesn’t think I’m worth shit.” Artemis threw back her bottle and fiercely gulped down its contents. “What about you, huh? You think I’m some filthy peasant?”
“The fuck you blabbering about? If you’re filthy, what the hell am I?” Cloudhawk shook his head. “Two months ago, I was a worthless scav. I’ve never viewed anyone as being ‘lowly’, and I’ve never thought of her kind as ‘noble’. We’re all just people. How does where we’re born make us better or worse than anyone else?”
Artemis couldn’t help but chuckle. “You’re so stupid it’s cute.”
“I admit the Queen’s got a shit temper, but overall, she’s not too bad. She’s not completely unreasonable.” Cloudhawk had come to see the wastelander woman beside him as a friend. He wasn’t sure what the Queen thought of him, but he saw her as a friend too. He hoped the two of them could get over their differences. “Anyway, you did kick up the shit. Recklessly chasing after Salamander nearly got our asses killed. So what if the Queen chewed you out a little? Why get all pissy about it?”
She scowled and persisted, “So you also think it’s my fault!”
Cloudhawk gently tried to persuade
her, “The outpost is about to find itself in a nasty fight, and the Queen is the strongest fighter we’ve got. You’re the leader of this place. Now’s not the time to pick fights with allies.”
“That goddamn woman’s always throwing her weight around. It pisses me off, but that’s not what really makes me angry.” Artemis paused to take a few swigs from her bottle and then wiped her mouth with her forearm. She swung her eyes towards the young man, her vision already blurry from drink. “Salamander was a lousy dog fucker, but he had a point. Demon hunters aren’t worth shit!”
She pushed herself up onto unsteady legs and looked out over the outpost.
“She just wants to use this place as a weapon against the sweepers, yeah? Willing to sacrifice all of us on the altar of her ‘mission.’ In that way, Hydra was fuckin’ right. At least he an’ his brother cared about this place because they needed it for their power. But the demon hunter? Nah. She doesn’t give a shit if these people live or die. The future of this place doesn’t even cross her mind. To her, we’re just pawns – useful only to get what she wants!”
Cloudhawk couldn’t help but interrupt her diatribe, “I think you’ve got her wrong.”
“Whaddid I say that wasn’t true, hm?” She turned around and looked at him. “You tell me then. What happens after she spanks the shit outta the demon? What then? What’s the outpost gonna do? Has she thought about our fates? Aren’t we wastelanders worthy of determinin’ our own destinies?!”
Cloudhawk opened his mouth, but no words came out. He still saw the loathing in Salamander’s eyes, heard his curses ringing in his ears. They still nagged at him.
When he spoke again, his voice was low, “There’s a lot in life we have no control over. The Queen, the sweepers, Salamander, you, me… there’s no difference. It’s all a matter of perspective. If the Queen is trying to use the outpost to kill the demon, why can’t the outpost use her to fight for its freedom? No more brutal rule under Hydra. No more life under sweeper control. From now on, all your food and water belongs to you – isn’t that a good thing?”
Artemis was rendered speechless. She hadn’t thought about it that way.
“You’re the leader now, so you have to take on a leader’s responsibilities. You gotta take a longer view. You work for no one, fight for no one. Greenland Outpost only belongs to the wastelands. War might be cruel, but it might also be a rebirth for this place.”
Hydra was a puppet of the demon. If that monster could create one Hydra, what was to stop him from creating a second? A third? Why did the Greenland Outpost have to be somebody’s tool? Why couldn’t it determine its own fate?
Cloudhawk grabbed the bottle from Artemis and took a hefty gulp. The burning warmth slipped down his gullet and into his belly, making his eyes water. When he looked back up at the stars, his eyes were a little hazy. “Down here under the stars, it doesn’t matter whether we accept our lives or not. It doesn’t matter if we’re obedient or stubborn – we’re all just dust. It doesn’t matter who you are, how strong you are… no one can take control of the future. We only got the present, and the only thing we can control is ourselves.”
A laugh bubbled up in Artemis’s throat. “Now you’re speakin’ in fuckin’ riddles.”
Cloudhawk scratched his head. “It’s something an old man told me once.”
“Where’s that old man now?”
“Dead. I buried him.”
She shrugged at the revelation.
Cloudhawk went on, “I think the Queen has her own reasons, her own troubles. You shouldn’t make ‘em worse. If Greenland Outpost survives this fight, it’ll be better off than ever.”
“You’re right. The demon hunter isn’t our enemy. We gotta fight for ourselves – fight for our freedom!” She sounded like she’d made up her mind.
“When it’s all over, how ‘bout you stay here with me? Whadda ya say?”
Cloudhawk was stunned by the sudden offer. “Huh?”
“You got a good head, better than mine, and got the power of a demon hunter. In time, you’re gonna be even stronger than Hydra.” Her eyes brightened with every word. “Didn’t you tell me you were looking for a peaceful place? You an’ me. Together, we can make one!”
Her words stirred him.
Nestled in the midst of the oasis with plenty of food and water… sure, the oasis was dangerous, but it was nothing they couldn’t handle. Cloudhawk was only around fifteen, and Artemis was in her early twenties. Both of them were young. In twenty or thirty years, maybe they could really succeed in building their own paradise.
Artemis looked at Cloudhawk as he considered the matter. “Whadda ya think? We can switch places – you lead, and I can be your right hand. How’s that?”
“I’m thinking!”
He hardly finished the sentence before he was suddenly lifted into the air. With one hand, Artemis lifted him up and pressed her soft lips to his. She tasted him with a wild and heated passion. Cloudhawk was too stunned to react, not that he could have pushed her off anyway.
He’d never felt a sensation like this before. He heard the sound of blood rushing in his ears and the thud of his heart against his chest. His muddled brain was alive with sounds. There was a certain stirring…
Then all of a sudden, Artemis let him go, licking her lips and grinning at him from ear to ear. She waggled her fist at him in a sign of dominance. “That’s my mark. You belong to me now. That damn Queen can go to hell. Hahahaha!”
She stumbled back and forth in a fit of mad laughter.
Cloudhawk could feel the idea worming its way into his heart. Maybe staying here wasn’t so bad. After their exchange, Artemis was in much higher spirits, even going so far as to start humming some unknown tune. She left while swaying her alluring hips.
However, neither of them noticed the solitary figure nearby. The crisp, cold moonlight made her appear all the more lonesome. The Bloodsoaked Queen removed her mask and let the light of the moon play over her beautiful features, outlining her conflicted expression. A shadow of pain flit across her eyes. She didn’t know how to shed the tightness she felt in her chest.
It was a difficult feeling to bear.
She didn’t know when it began but the Queen had started to view the wastelands differently. She’d begun to question the values she’d held for years. She didn’t know when, but at some point, she’d come to care about that young wastelander.
These thoughts were a mistake. Many of the things she’d done lately were mistakes. She’d violated so many tenets of her order, but she couldn’t rebel against her own heart and will. Ever since she came to the wastelands, something had been eating at her pious heart.
The Bloodsoaked Queen had never had friends. Even though she and Cloudhawk had staved off death together several times, there was an invisible barrier separating them. She wanted to lead Cloudhawk down the road of the demon hunters, partially because she wanted the two of them to grow closer. But now, he was growing closer to that repugnant wastelander every day – and further from her. For reasons she couldn’t understand, the thought filled her with anger and jealousy.
Almighty gods! Your loyal follower is lost. Every passing moment, I’m filled with guilt. If you can hear me, please cleanse me of my sins and lead me down the righteous path. Help me finish this…
The Queen sat in prayer, trying to clear her mind of confusion and doubt. She held the metallic demon mask in her hands – an inheritance from her father.
She’d already given so much to hunt this demon, to avenge her father’s death! There was no going back. For retribution, for atonement, for shame, for glory – she was prepared to exact vengeance at any price, even her life.
Help me finish this!
She donned her mask once more, and at that moment, any signs of confusion or fragility were gone. Her doubt was replaced with the determination to face whatever hell stood before her!
Greenland Outpost continued running like nothing had happened. No one seemed to pay any more mind to the skirmish
between Artemis and the Queen. The outpost’s new leader seemed to accept her new post and took over the business of leading. She started by calling on all the remaining outpost troops and set patrols. They were ordered to sleep in their armor with weapons at the ready, for battle could break out at any moment.
The outpost’s walls were reinforced with four times the normal garrison. Hydra’s personal warehouse was opened, and all weapons were distributed to equip everyone, even the common man. When the time came, every able person would fight.
Meanwhile, the Queen mopped up the last of the resistance. Soon, it was made crystal clear that there was only one ruler in Greenland Outpost.
Within the fort, Artemis, the Bloodsoaked Queen, Cloudhawk, and Mantis all sat with severe expressions on their faces.
Artemis slapped her hand against the table and shouted angrily, “Not one of our scouting parties has returned!”
The scouts they’d chosen for the mission were the best of what remained in the outpost. They knew the oasis inside and out. It was impossible for whole teams to completely succumb to the wilds. Given the experience Artemis and Cloudhawk had with the sweepers and the unsettling silence, they could be almost certain that the outpost was surrounded by enemy forces.
Sacrificing scouts was no longer necessary. The gates were closed, and no one was allowed to enter!
Greenland Outpost had come upon a pivotal moment that would decide its fate. They would live, or they would die. From this moment on, they were prepared for the worst!
84 Night Raid
Greenland Outpost mobilized every soldier it could, including those who weren’t part of the outpost at all. A massive conscription campaign put a weapon in the hands of anyone who could fight. Stone was one of those wastelanders-turned-soldiers.
He was in his early twenties, and like many denizens of the wastelands, he didn’t have a proper name. Stone picked something he saw often as his moniker, and it turned out to be an apt description. As he grew, Stone became as tenacious and unyielding as his namesake, eventually reaching his potential as a doughty soldier.
The Wastelander Page 60
