BuyMort: Rise of the Windowpuncher – How I Became the Accidental Warlord of Arizona. Apocalyptic GameLit

Chapter 52: Chapter 50


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We walked up to his house and entered through the sweltering greenhouse again. The doorway to the interior opened up onto comfortably warm air and the smell of a hearty breakfast cooking. I entered the kitchen to see an assortment of dishes set out onto the counters, with several burners and the oven going at the same time. Suzanne was moving between each, checking or changing their contents.

As we entered, she lifted a pan off the stove and turned to smile, holding it far away so Lee could lean in and give her a peck on the lips. “Oh Lee, good, just in time. They’re starting to get done, help me pack.”

Lee hopped to, hustling over to the sink to wash his hands, before joining her at the counter. As I watched, they made several breakfast sandwiches, with plenty of fried egg, fresh sauteed spinach, and what looked like thick slices of sausage.

Each sandwich was a little different, and some were made from a carton of egg replacement instead of eggs cracked into a pan. Some used the telltale dense brick structure of gluten-free bread, some were on seed filled wheat, and some on plain white. By the time their flurry of movement and coordination had completed, there were over two dozen breakfast sandwiches made, cut in half, wrapped in wax paper, and carefully placed in brown paper bags. 

I applauded as the last bag was completed, and both of the adorable old hippies turned to bow at me, huge smiles on their faces.

“That was impressive! Is that breakfast for the compound?” I asked, leaning forward at their table.

Suzanne nodded to me and wiped her hands on her apron. “Yes indeed! Well, not all the compound, just the morning workers. The poor dears get up so awfully early, we make breakfast so they can eat on shift and not lose sleep making it themselves.” 

Lee leaned over and gave her another peck on the cheek.

“Suzanna, hun? Why don’t you make a little something for the three of us now? I’ll get these to the crew,” he said with a gentle smile. He returned to his counter and began marking the bags with names in sharpie.

Suzanne returned to her ingredients and cookery, and the kitchen began to smell amazing all over again. As she cooked, she hummed and swayed, and Lee packed a jute shoulder bag with sandwiches. Once his bag was full, he squeezed Suzanne’s arm, and nodded at me. At that moment, as he was about to leave me alone in a room with his wife, I saw his expression change.

It was slight, just a twitch of his mustache, really. But it was enough. In response, I stood and reached out a hand. “Lee, why don’t you tell me who to run that out to? Least I can do for the free meal, it’s cold out there.”

The relief on his face was palpable. He handed the bag over at once and nodded. 

“Look for the fella with the big straw hat, he’s our foreman. Name is Duncan. They’ll be expecting you, don’t worry.” 

He turned back to Suzanna, but then snapped his fingers and turned around again. Once he had taken four oversized oranges and an entire bunch of bananas out of the huge fruit bowl on his table and added them to the bag, he sent me on my way.

I saw the oversized straw hat almost the moment I started looking for it. But with the morning settling in, the workers and hillside growing areas were starting to get hit with some sun, so the hats made sense. Most of the workers wore simple canvas hats, or baseball caps. But Duncan wore an oversized, bowl shaped farming hat, made of woven straw and strapped under his chin.

He stood with a smile as I approached and noticed the bag at my side. I raised it and returned his smile, and he dusted his hands off. “Breakfast is here y’all!”

Several in the area voiced excitement, and the human workers all over the compound began to head toward us. I handed the bag over and shook his hand, before watching as the various workers all came around and grabbed their sandwiches.

Every walk of life except high level corporate seemed to be represented among Lee’s people. A young girl who looked like a runaway sat down with an older couple at a nearby bench to eat their sandwiches, and three large middle aged men carrying digging tools took the spot opposite them.

Small groups filtered away, each gripping a paper bag. Several also carried fruit. The older couple and the young girl shared one of the oranges, and several folk retreated with a paper bag and banana. 

It struck me, as I watched, that Lee and Suzanne were feeding their people in a much better way than I was.

Even down at the truck, the hobb running his butcher shack was handing out great hunks of blubbery looking wasp meat, and a handful of small barbeque grills nearby sizzled with it. I heard laughter, and bubbles of conversation all around the compound. Even their hobbs looked like they were having fun with the impromptu wasp BBQ. Morale mattered. I logged the memory away as important and returned to breakfast with Lee and Suzanne.

As I climbed the hill to their home, I realized how much I was looking forward to spending time with the sweet old couple. Thinking ahead to all I planned on doing, I realized it was likely to be the happiest, most peaceful part of my day. On the way in, I sat down on a bench to appreciate the tropical orchard for a few minutes. It was cooler than during the day, but the residual heat was still sweltering.

Molls would love a room like this, I thought. 

Dawn rise was still coloring the sky beyond the glass dome, and blue was starting to chase it as I sat and stared at the desert sky. When Lee came and found me a few minutes later, I was glazed over, just staring into the distance.

“Hey, you alright there? Breakfast get dispensed alright?” He leaned over me, tapping me lightly on the shoulder.

I snapped out of my daze and nodded, slapping a tight, artificial smile on my face. “Yeah. Sorry. Just stopped to watch the sunrise a little.”

“It is a sight, isn’t it?” Lee climbed over the back of the bench and sat beside me. “You looked a million miles away though. You alright, there, Tyson?”

I shrugged. “Killed three men today. Couple aliens the night before last. Whole buncha those Sleem things last night. Not sure if they count much.” I sighed and leaned forward on my knees. “Just a lot of stuff trying to kill me. Getting kind of old.”

Lee nodded slowly. “Seems rough out there. You look plum torn up.”

I glanced at my bloody robe, already filled with holes from the bullets and wasps and a laugh escaped me. “Ha! Yeah, I guess so. Breakfast sounds amazing though.” This time my smile was genuine. Lee returned it and we went inside to eat.

The meal Suzanne had prepared was simple, but delicious. Fried eggs with sauteed spinach, thick slices of home ground sausage, and fresh toast. My favorite bread too, it felt like home for a while. Suzanne even made coffee, and I enjoyed my second cup of the day.

We talked about the Sleem, about how to fight them, how to secure against them. There had been some sightings, just a handful of oozes here and there. I warned them that was how it started for us too and explained the size of my own infestation. We went over how I had become trapped down there, the ship and how they had been using it, and how rapidly they were breeding. Lee and Suzanne both agreed that it was a priority to defend against. It was a productive conversation among tactical allies.

Lee told me everything he knew about the wasps. Turns out, their name is yarsps, and they tasted similar to a white fish mixed with pork bacon. Completely safe for human consumption. Decent source of protein and a surprising amount of minerals. He told me there was a hive of the things somewhere in the nearby mountain range, and when they were most active. Disturbingly, he told me they had been tracking a growth trend in the local population. Every day there were significantly more of them swarming from the hills.

At the end of the meal, Suzanne got started cleaning up the kitchen while Lee spoke to some of his staff and tallied up my bill. The pickup was capable of holding a lot of food, even in its banged up condition, and they had stuffed it for me. 

The cab was filled to bursting with jute bags and hand-woven oversized baskets, all filled with fresh produce. In the bed, they had layered packages of butchered wasp meat in huge bricks, wrapped in tarps that Lee made me promise to return the next trip out. On top of those were more giant baskets. I was informed I needed to return those as well, in order to keep making runs like this.

My bill ended up coming to a total of four-hundred-thousand morties, roughly. It was a little over, because I ended up getting a jute bag of their specialty peanut butter on top of everything else. Lee assured me I was getting a friend of the affiliate rate, and we shook hands on it after I transferred over the morties.

As I was getting in the cab of the truck, Lee leaned in to close my door. “Ya know, those BuyMort priests are spiritual guides. Suzanna talks about the conversations she has with ours. Maybe you could . . . talk to yours?”

I smiled and nodded. “She’s helping. As will this load of food, thank you Lee. Thank you everyone.” I said the last to the gathered workers, trying to look as many of them in the eye as I could. Lee nodded and patted my ruined door, and I slipped my helmet back on for the road trip home. The HUD spun up as I was turning the truck in a tight circle to leave, and then I was driving home, trying to avoid wasps.

Three separate times my helmet warned me there was a group nearby. Each time a quiet off-road detour to give them space was the key. If you didn’t get too close, they seemed to just not realize you were there. I tucked that away for future reference, and to tell Lee, as I approached the side gate to the campground.

It had become a complicated affair. We had a huge metal gate facing the road, but once you were through that gate, you had to wait for the other gate to open. And because of the way the gobbs installed the power system for the gates, it would only open or close one of them at a time. As I waited for the gate behind me to cycle closed, I typed up a search for better gate systems and then saved it to my Upgreyedds list for later.

As I drove in, I saw people. 

Movement, and life. 

Molls was out with Phyllis, and Doofus was on the deck between them, happily thumping his tail. They were watching some new people set up a tent nearby while having tea, and Phyllis was smoking a joint, of course. I waved as I went past. Both women waved back, and Doofus grunted as he leaned to stare after me while he decided whether or not to follow. Laziness and comfort won out, as he flopped back to get a tummy rub from Molls.

This side of the compound practically crawled with hobbs. I counted at least two dozen wearing regular clothing, let alone the dozen in armor manning gates and patrolling the parts of the camp we suspected the Sleem could access. Several of them raised a fist to their chest as I passed, and I waved in reply.

You are reading story BuyMort: Rise of the Windowpuncher – How I Became the Accidental Warlord of Arizona. Apocalyptic GameLit at novel35.com

Rayna hadn’t been kidding about bringing in more people. Well, good. More people meant more of a chance to survive the next few days. Things seemed to be escalating at that point, in the Arizona desert. The campground still had a ton of open space left too, so I wasn’t worried about the new people much.

I pulled the beat-to-hell truck into the parking lot and killed the ignition, before getting out. Rayna had been waiting for me and was walking over from the gate, with some hobbs in tow. She raised a chin at me when she entered the parking lot, and then did that fist to chest salute. I just nodded in reply and kept my helmet on, bending to strap on my new .40 caliber pistol.

The militia had me a little paranoid, and I didn’t want to find out what a .308 round through the head would do to me with this starfish suit on. 

Rayna dropped a bag of pumpkin seeds on the hood as she approached, which I happily tucked into my grenade bag as I got out.

“Breakfast is served.” I swept an arm at the overfilled truck, as several hobbs got to work unloading it.

Rayna nodded. “Good. Need water, now.”

“Now, now? Is something on fire?” I hesitated.

The tall hobb shook her head. “No, just need water. Sada not letting anyone use his anymore. More people now.”

I sighed and put my hands on my hips. I was really not looking forward to talking to him that day. 

“Right. We need our own source anyway, his was never going to last. I’ll take care of that first thing, after we’re done here.” With that, I looked to her for more.

She nodded at my helmet. “Right. All families and extensions of BlueCleave here now. There more, on Storage and other worlds. Plenty hobbs who would join place like this. But this my whole tribe. They listen to me, so they listen to you.”

“Thank you Rayna, I will respect your authority over them, and try not to boss anyone around too much.” I answered. “Anything else that needs to be taken care of today? I want to get everything started before we tackle the Sleem again.”

“Need buildings,” she said with a shrug. “Storage for food at least. Need homes soon too. Tents okay, but days hot and nights cold. Water, food, power. All needed. For start.” 

Also all on my Afflqwst list.

I blinked inside the helmet. Yeah, that made sense. This place had always been something I neglected to care about, and now that I suddenly did, it was like I was seeing a totally different place. The old sites, with their mud-crete caps over the septic covers, looked like new plots of land. Someplace for houses, or even larger buildings.

“Power I can help with right away, hold on.”

I pulled up BuyMort and asked it for a solar power supply. It shot out a million results and I slowly and methodically waved away the elements that weren’t right. After just a few minutes of browsing, I had it narrowed to a handful.

Wind/Air Sustainable — Energy from the bounty of natural phenomenon! Always have power with this bad boy, the perfect generator for sites off the grid. Wind/Air Sustainable is a stationary power plant capable of tremendous solar harvest in dusty desert environs, side mounted with wind turbines and with a battery rack capable of saving up to three days worth of energy storage. Keep your affiliate in the running with Wind/Air Sustainable. 500,037,002 morties. 4.7 stars.

Honestly it looked like a great system. But it wasn’t mobile. Sweeping my hand back and forth, and was able to twist the pole-based power plant back and forth, looking it over. It was something that, someday, I could see using for a city. But not for the miserable little camp we had now. Especially since it wasn’t mobile. I dismissed it.

CUBE — CUBE ALWAYS WANTS MORE ENERGY. NEEDS MORE ENERGY. DO NOT DEFY CUBE. CUBE FITS IN POCKET, DEVOURS SOLAR ENERGY, RADIATES HOLY POWER FOR MACHINES. CUBE IS YOUR FRIEND. CUBE IS YOUR KING. ALL HAIL CUBE! 45,000 morties. 4.1 stars. 

It was a fraction of the price the Wind/Air Sustainable was, but honestly it sounded so much more powerful. However, and I can’t emphasize this enough, it sounded creepy as all hell. Was it a living being? Some sort of strange automaton? What happened if I defied CUBE? I decided it was probably better to not find out. I waved it away.

Solarfly! — They spin, they sparkle, they solar fly! Start with a handful of self-replicating nano-bots, target your nearest vacuum-based atmospheric mass, then watch them via your customizable solarfly video view as they reduce said mass into more Solarfly nanobots. Make as many as you need, then send them to work around the nearest solar mass. They will catch and beam their energy direct to your Solarfly! Receiving Station. Energy problems no more! 9,000,000,000,000,000,000 morties. 4.1 stars.

The power stats that ran in red numbers alongside the animations of this cloud of particles eating an asteroid belt and then fluttering over to form a ring around the sun — that was amazing. It promised the potential to constantly expand energy production, so long as I kept buying energy receptacles to catch the energy beams that would be funneled to them.

But it was also terrifying. They worked in the vacuum of space, and couldn’t operate in thick atmosphere. But I understood quite quickly how that could be weaponized and used to greatly disturb other habitable systems.

I bookmarked it, but grudgingly. It wasn’t something that I could afford right now, or even needed. At that point, I honestly didn’t even know the number for it’s price tag. Zillions? A number so massive it lost all meaning. But, in the future . . . I had started to get the feeling that things were going to get a lot bigger.

Solar-sling, the Sassiest Solar Collector around — Always on the run? Let Solar-sling tag along. This powerful mobile solar plant  and battery combo is perfect for the early days of BuyMort Shoppening, or for fun glamping nights to other worlds. Simple to set up, simple to operate, so simple even a Sleem could run it! 45,000 morties, 4.9 stars

When I tagged Solar-sling, I already had the suspicion that I was going to end up buying it. It was expensive for its size, but to be honest prices fluctuated so hard, back and forth, on seemingly everything. It was exactly what I needed for now. Maybe later, when or if things settled down and became safe, I could afford to stay still. But for now, basic power attached to easy mobility seemed like the right direction to go.

It was the kind of thing that would become immediately useful, and the operations account was flush thanks to Mr. Sada selling all our spiders. Well, most of our spiders.

We waited and Rayna grumble-chatted with me about the camp. People were nervous and didn’t think much of our setup so far. The hobbs liked it better than Storage, but it sounded like Storage was someplace you could only climb up from, in the BuyMort system. 

Addressing some of these initial issues and getting some creature comforts in place would really solve a lot of morale problems. I focused on making the hobbs happy first.

Once my package arrived, I cut the flesh tape and tossed it onto the ground, to jiggle and begin rotting. We pulled out the generator and got it set up, and the little pole extended into the air so delicately that it made me smile. It was a simple thing, even looked like a portable generator. The major differences were the myriad plug options, and the solar panel sail. The pole raised high overhead, about a dozen feet. Then a golden sail unfurled and puffed up in the morning sun. I left Rayna with instructions to inform everyone that they could charge their devices from it during the day, but the hobbs had ultimate control of where it was needed and used.

Next I took care of the water situation. That involved a lot of questions to Rayna about our needs, and the slow but certain realization that there was no easy, cheap solution for this problem. I sighed and jumped back into BuyMort.

Alright you bastard of a system, what have you got in the way of giving me good, clean water?

A number of service organizations popped up and I rolled through them. I wanted a responsible price, prompt service, and I wanted to meet more local humans if possible. So I narrowed my search parameters, looking for an Earth-based water delivery service that existed here on our Earth in our dimension. And I breathed a sigh of relief when a number of them popped up. I think I’d been afraid that, with all of the dying going on around here, there would just be one.

Not only were there quite a few of them, water being a rather easy-to-sell commodity, there was one here in Arizona!

Owl City Water Services — Cool and mountain fresh, our water is not just clean and pure, in comes in different varieties! High purity, mineral-enhanced, alkaline, alkaline-iodized, distilled, bottled, we do it all. Delivery via BuyMort pods, be sure to leave us a good service review.

I liked that ad. As the text had scrolled and the words had swung by, the words had been read in a plain and honest voice. A voice that, at some point, I’d like to meet. But for the meantime I’d just go ahead and set up a single delivery. For the moment.

See, they would also charge far more than we could ever sustain. The rates were variable but, to be honest, for the number of people that were living and working here now, I had enough in my affiliate spending account for a week’s worth of the cheapest version of that service. Water was big business. I used the affiliate page to buy the shipment, and tagged Rayna as the delivery’s recipient. The pod would go to her to drop it off.

Then I started looking for auto-digging-wells. That became frustrating quickly, primarily because I realized there was simply no way I was getting any kind of well for this place without it costing millions of morties. I had twenty-two million in the affiliate’s general account, and food had cost almost half a mill already. I was going to need another shipment of that soon. Maybe we could start gathering our own wasp meat, but the cost on that had been minimal anyway. I needed to get something growing out here, which meant a more robust well system.

Even something small, just enough drinking water for a small group, would cost at least three million. The parts for a well were cheap enough, but we didn’t have the ability or time to get something like that dug. Automatic diggers that would convert into source side pumps existed. As did bizarre machines that you just fed pipe into until it stopped spitting dirt and started spitting water, but none of them was comfortably affordable. As Rayna and I talked about it, a sudden realization gave me an unconscious chill. I was going to have to visit Clippy again.

I sat down on the pavement in the parking lot and shrugged when Rayna gave me a strange look. She agreed to guard me while I dove in, though, and I leaned back against the truck tire to relax. Then I swiped up the ad helper and dove in. 

The ad space rose up around me and my consciousness settled in beside Clippy.

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