The Wastelander

by Tipsy Wanderer

  If Cloudhawk’s appetite matched that of a normal man, ten days of jerky would have been a stretch but not an impossible order. However, eating as much as he did, his needs were several times that of anyone else. What he asked for was too much for them to give.

  They could curtail their soldiers’ rations, but they already only had a few scraps of meat each. If the leader ordered them to give that up, they’d surely be angry and too weak to defend the outpost if something were to go wrong.

  Cloudhawk was honestly surprised. He knew the settlement was small – two thousand was a pittance – but they couldn’t even manage to scrape together such a small amount of food? However, he saw the earnest apology in Coppertooth’s face, and it wasn’t hard to believe a place like this would struggle.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to deceive you. We really are pretty hard up here, but if you’d like, we can try to get some more food from elsewhere.” The uncomfortable sound of grinding copper arose as Coppertooth grit his teeth. He slapped the table. “Asha! Why haven’t you brought him his liquor yet?!”

  A young girl of around thirteen or fourteen hurried over with a large bottle in her arms. She shot Cloudhawk a timid glance. Asha was rail thin and was covered in a worn but surprisingly clean gown. She had a head of wavy flaxen hair, and though her skin was dark and rough, her body was soft and healthy. Elegant and pretty, for a wastelander.

  Coppertooth introduced her. “Asha is the most beautiful girl in Lighthouse Point. About a year ago, she fled from a slaver, moving from place to place until she found her way here.”

  She poured his glass and curtsied, leaning forward enough to show the lines of her immature figure beneath her collar.

  She furtively lifted her head and stole a glance at Cloudhawk. Beneath his scruffy black hair was an angular and handsome face, and his lithe body was laden with equipment that was never far from his person. There was a light of awe in her eyes.

  Coppertooth also cast a telling gaze towards Cloudhawk. “She lives a hard life here selling wine and hardly makes enough to eat. Perhaps, she should go with you.”

  Cloudhawk lifted his glass and sniffed its contents in silence. It was a habit he’d developed – nowhere in the wastelands was it safe to let your guard down. If there was something in the wine, his keen sense of smell would pick it out.

  He knew what Coppertooth was getting at.

  There was hope in the young girl’s eyes. Her life had been a series of hard breaks without a day of respite. If she could attach herself to a strong man, so long as her body retained its allure, she could have a better life.

  Cloudhawk was no longer ignorant of the appeals of women. Asha was attractive for a wastelander, and Cloudhawk was a young man. He wasn’t opposed to the idea of being accompanied by a pretty girl, but he also knew that out in the wastes, he couldn’t even guarantee his own safety. Bringing along someone who was hardly strong enough to carry a wine bottle seemed like asking for trouble.

  “Three days jerky and plenty of sleep.” Cloudhawk took a sip of liquor and changed the topic. “How far from here is the holy city?”

  “Holy city? Ten days, unless you run into trouble. You aren’t planning to go there, are you?” Coppertooth’s expression changed visibly when they started talking about the Elysian lands. His surprise only became more apparent when Cloudhawk nodded his head. “There are a lot of wastelanders who want to enter the holy city, but it never works out. I think it’d be best if you gave up on the idea.”

  “You seem to know a lot about the place.”

  “I’ll be honest. I lived there twenty years ago.”

  This admission took Cloudhawk by surprise. He looked Coppertooth up and down. He was a man with rough skin and crude clothing, not to mention those false teeth. There wasn’t an inch of him that looked like an Elysian. “Then, why did you come back here?”

  Coppertooth proceeded to share his life’s story with Cloudhawk.

  Twenty years ago, as a soldier in Skycloud’s army, he participated in a raid against a group of blasphemers. He took pity on several infants they encountered during the attack and secretly took them away. In the end, he was found out, and in the Elysian lands, his actions were a grave affront to the gods.

  Coppertooth lifted the right leg of his trousers. Beneath, instead of flesh, there was metal. His leg had been replaced with an artificial limb. “I betrayed their warrior’s code so they took my right leg. I was exiled into the wastelands and was told never to return.”

  Cloudhawk frowned as he examined the result of Coppertooth’s charity. “Because you saved a couple kids?”

  Taking someone’s leg for sparing the life of children seemed way out of line. What sin had they committed? Why did they have to die?

  “I bet you regret it.” Cloudhawk picked up a chunk of meat and took a bite. “To go from the paradise of the holy city to this fuckin’ shit show… I bet most people wouldn’t be able to accept it.”

  “Hey brother, that’s not true at all. At first, I had trouble, but now, I’m living fine.” Coppertooth lifted his glass and drained it. “As far as I’m concerned, the holy city is no paradise, and not everywhere in the wastelands is hell.”

  Cloudhawk almost gasped. “What are you saying?”

  Coppertooth heaved a sigh like it was a topic he wasn’t thrilled to rehash.

  “Brother, you’ve worked hard. You have to be tired. Let Asha take you up to your room where you can get some rest.” Coppertooth shot Asha a glance. Her face turned red, and she shifted uncomfortably. “Make sure our brother’s satisfied, yeah?”

  134 Sudden Crisis

  Cloudhawk left the small tavern and took a walk around the outpost. Its namesake landmark towered over the rest of the buildings from the settlement’s center.

  Cloudhawk had seen it from far away. It was what drew him here. When he went inside, he found a stall that had been placed at the lighthouse’s base, and several withered old pilgrims shuffled around it. They were bowing with hands pressed together and muttering prayers.

  Curious, Cloudhawk muttered his question aloud, “What are they doing?”

  Asha had followed Cloudhawk from the tavern and still held the large bottle in her arms. She answered him respectfully, “Master Coppertooth believes that everyone should carry faith in their heart. Life is difficult here, but faith can bring us joy. This monument is from the holy city, and it was brought here so that we may pray. It represents our faith and respect for the gods.”

  Coppertooth may have looked crude and uncouth, but he really was a good man.

  Perhaps, this is what made this place different from all the other settlements. Lighthouse Point was a feeble place, but its citizens longed for the purity of the Elysian lands. Of course, they knew that none of them would ever get there, but that knowledge didn’t hamper their admiration and worship of the ideal the Elysian lands stood for.

  Cloudhawk spoke over his shoulder to the young girl, “Do you believe in the gods?”

  “I do!” She nodded and continued in her tiny voice, “Master Coppertooth told us that if the gods hadn’t come, demons would have destroyed all of humanity. The gods saved our world and established the holy cities. Master Coppertooth is a good man. It’s a shame I’ll never meet any more Elysians.”

  Her regret earned a sigh from Cloudhawk. “Maybe it’s for the best. Not all Elysians are like Coppertooth. As far as I can tell, they hardly consider wastelanders to be human. It’s probably better if you don’t meet any more of them.”

  But Asha emphatically shook her head. “Master Coppertooth said the ire of the Elysians only comes down upon blasphemers. We may be lowly wastelanders, but so long as we keep the gods in our hearts, pray day by day and generation to generation, one day, our faith will cleanse us of our sins. When that time comes, the people of the holy city will appear and take us in.”

  What inherent sin did wastelanders have? Cloudhawk harbored no love for this barren land, but he didn’t think that its people were born evil, o
r twisted, or filthy. If a child from the holy city grew up in the wastelands, their noble heritage wouldn’t change anything. They would be the same as everyone else! But Asha’s self-loathing was deeply ingrained. That was the saddest thing about most wastelanders.

  With an exile living here, perhaps Lighthouse Point was on the margins of the wastelands. It didn’t seem like they had to deal with waves of monsters or roving sweeper gangs. There weren't many people here who would be strong enough to fight back if they did since most were old and infirm. Instead of signs of fighting, there were more traces of Elysian influence.

  This difference filled Cloudhawk with hope. He had to be close to his goal.

  The northern part of the settlement was a cluster of ancient ruins. Perhaps a hundred collapsed towers were interspersed among a ruined fleet of ships to create a sprawling junkyard that Lighthouse Point’s denizens crawled through for supplies. Most of the outpost’s materials came from there. It was how they made their living.

  Cloudhawk wasn’t enthralled with the camp, not like he would have been before. Months in the wilds had stripped him of his naïvete, and he knew that danger lurked around nearly every unfamiliar corner. It’d become a habit for him to look around wherever he intended to lay his head for the night. Where the good hiding places were. Where he could lose pursuers. If things suddenly changed, where the escape routes were… these were important things to know.

  Eventually, they made it to his room, and Asha pushed open the door. Coppertooth’s hospitality was on display, for the room was clean and had its own water supply. He could take a three-minute shower, which was a rare luxury in the wastelands.

  Enticing as that was, though, Cloudhawk was exhausted. He was getting ready to settle in when he heard the rustling of clothing from behind.

  When he turned, he saw that Asha had slipped out of her crude gown. She was turned away, the burnished flesh of her back visible in the dim light. Asha was thin and had only just begun to grow into her body, immature like a fruit still on the branch. The red in her cheeks showed this was her first time, but she didn’t hesitate. Her gown was down around her ankles, and her fingers hooked into the edges of her underwear.

  “I’m leaving tomorrow. I don’t want to waste my energy here.”

  She immediately slumped to the ground, flustered and earnest. “Please accept me, sir. I’m clean. I don’t have any tumors. I’ll listen to whatever you say.”

  Cloudhawk had no intention of taking on responsibility for a young girl. “I’m sorry. I’m only staying here for the night. Then, I’m leaving forever. My life is miserable, spent out in the wastelands drifting from one place to another. I don’t have the ability or energy to look after someone else. Go back to Coppertooth and tell him that I appreciate his generosity, but I don’t need anything else.”

  The expression on Asha’s face was one of disappointment as she pulled her gown back on. With a respectful bow, she left the bottle of liquor behind and shut the door behind her as she left.

  A few minutes later, Coppertooth was surprised when Asha reappeared. He knew she’d been refused.

  Such a pity, he thought. The man was young but already possessed surprising ability. If he could be convinced to stay, Lighthouse Point would be much safer. That was Coppertooth’s hope when he sent Asha with him. The girl knew it too. She was interested the moment she saw him. Whether for the outpost or just for herself, she’d hoped he would be interested in return.

  Coppertooth treated Asha like a daughter. What sort of parent wanted to see their child taken away? Sadly, after losing his leg, he wasn’t the warrior he used to be. He was getting older, and he couldn’t take care of this precious young girl anymore. If he could take this opportunity to put her in Cloudhawk’s care, then it was for the best even if she was just his servant. Just so long as she was safe and had a full belly, he would be content.

  More than that, if Cloudhawk stayed, maybe he’d be leader one day. He was young. Lighthouse Point would survive for a long time under his guidance.

  Asha hung her head, speaking in her small and timid voice, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t good enough.”

  Coppertooth patted her on the shoulder. “Don’t take it hard, girl. Go rest.”

  She wiped the moisture from the corner of her eyes and dutifully took her leave.

  He watched her tiny figure retreat and inwardly sighed. If she’d had the fortune to be born in Skycloud, in a few years, she’d likely marry a noble. She would become an honored Lady. At worst, she would find a wealthy merchant for herself who would give her a good life.

  Unfortunately, she had been born in the wastelands, and from the moment she was born, Asha was fated to experience all the evils of the world. The fate of women out here was a dark one, and Asha was even denied the life of a serving girl.

  Was this her destiny? How could it be so unfair?

  This Cloudhawk kid didn’t seem so bad. At least he was responsible. People like him were hard to find. He was a good young man.

  The night was dark, impenetrable but for the beam from the lighthouse. Below it, the outpost was still and silent.

  Cloudhawk was jolted awake, his heart beating like a drum in his chest. An electric shock tore through him as though someone had jabbed a needle into a nerve. Even before his eyes opened, his body was on the move. A flash of metal and his revolver was in hand, pointed at a shadowy corner.

  Cloudhawk’s eyes had grown keener over time. Once the fog of sleep was lifted, he could see everything with the help of the moonlight filtering through the window. Nothing was out of the ordinary.

  Strange. Outside then?

  Cloudhawk got to his feet, approached the door, and slowly turned the lock. There were no sounds coming from the hall. Nothing moved. He checked out the window to the ground below and even checked the roof, but there was nothing to see. What was going on?

  That sense of danger persisted.

  Every hair on his body stood on end. He felt ice cold. The only time he’d had a reaction this intense was when the danger was life-threatening as if the eyes of a vicious predator were trained on him. He didn’t know where it was coming from, but the danger – and the bloodthirsty intent it bore – was close and getting closer.

  Shit! I can’t stay here!

  Wherever this danger was, Cloudhawk could at least tell that it was closing in on Lighthouse Point. It was coming for him. Defenses here were weak and couldn’t protect him. If he stayed, he was putting everyone in the outpost in danger.

  It was time to go!

  Cloudhawk decided to flee immediately. Forget the jerky and water. Escape was paramount. He slung his rifle over his shoulder and then dropped from the window soundlessly to the ground below. As he was inching towards the stable to get his mount, he suddenly heard a strange sound.

  135 Slaughter

  The wind whipped through the dark night like daggers.

  Two young and noble-looking demon hunters stood out in the desolate wastes. They stared at the sweeping light shining from the lighthouse ahead.

  Claudia was around five and a half feet tall with flaxen hair and pale skin. Her face was pretty and a pair of crystal blue eyes stood out in the darkness like precious gemstones. She held an exorcist rod comfortably in her hand, heroic in bearing despite being a woman.

  Raith was a little taller, almost six feet. He was tall, well-muscled, but agile despite his size. Short brown hair sat atop his head above a masculine and daring face. The demon hunter was charming, both in appearance and bearing, and was only, perhaps, a little overconfident. He gave the impression of always being ready to leap into conflict.

  Two days was all it’d taken for them to get here. It showed their quality and efficiency.

  The lighthouse’s beam reflected in the depths of Claudia’s eyes. “Should we launch a surprise attack?”

  “We are demon hunters, and there are a hundred soldiers with us. Why waste time and effort on a sneak attack against some piddling traitor?” Raith’s handsome featu
res might as well have been chiseled from stone. His words dripped with arrogance, “Besides, this is a sizeable settlement. We can’t be sure where he’s hiding. Kicking the bushes might shake the snake from its lair.”

  He had a point.

  Fifty soldiers would surround the outpost and lay in wait while the rest of them killed their way in. Eventually, the traitor would be forced to reveal himself, but no matter where he fled, an ambush would be waiting. Once his location was discovered, the two of them would make sure the mission was completed.

  Skycloud’s one hundred soldiers separated into two units. The first group of fifty spread out, five men to a team, and established ten points of ambush nearby. Lighthouse Point was quickly surrounded.

  Those who were left marched towards the gate, led by the demon hunters.

  No need to pretend. No need to skulk. The pride of the Elysians and the self-confidence of the demon hunters shunned such practices.

  The denizens of Lighthouse Point had never witnessed such a scene. As the resplendent soldiers of the holy lands strode through the gates, the defenders simply looked on in astonishment. They didn’t even call out a challenge or raise an alarm.

  “What are – ah!”

  Screams erupted! An arrow sprouted from the defender’s chest, and he toppled from the walls.

  Raith had lifted his bow, drawn the string, and released. A thunderous power struck the barricade and blew it apart. Shards of wood and metal exploded out in every direction, impaling several guards who had come to see what was happening.

  The exorcist bow, like the exorcist rod, was one of the lower level relics in a demon hunter’s arsenal. Both were standard equipment for inexperienced members of the order. Obviously, the exorcist rod favored close combat while the bow was more suited to dexterous and control-focused warriors.

  One could tell the demon hunters’ respective styles by the weapons they bore. Claudia’s staff showed that she preferred getting in close while Raith’s bow revealed his penchant for long-distance engagements.