The ride back to Fette was uneventful, but soothing. The patrol that I’d borrowed rode behind me in silence. It wasn’t the contemptible silence I’d grown used to, but rather a respectful one. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. On the one hand, I liked to think I didn’t give a damn what others' opinions of me were, but on the other, it was nice to be treated fairly for a change. Either way, I knew it wouldn’t be smart to get used to it. People were shifty, and their opinions altered direction like the wind blowing across the wastes.
When I arrived back in Fette I handed my bike off to the nearest garage. It was mine, and would be maintained for me, but I wouldn’t be using it too often. Even with my newfound strength, traveling alone with something that loud was asking for trouble. Besides, if I used it too much I’d be missing out on developing my favorite skill.
After I dropped off the bike I took a few moments to look over my kit. I still had a solid amount of .308 and 9mm, and I’d taken the time to buff and sharpen my sword before I’d headed to Springfield. I’d been hoping I’d get a chance to use it, but it looked like fear and a noose had been all that I’d needed.
After I was done I decided it was time to get back on the road. I’d head back to my boat and my own personal deadzone for a while, then I’d swing back around Jasper to see what Bill had dredged up for me. As I was making my way out of the garage, a woman stepped in my path. She was covered in warrior tattoos, was long and lean, and wore a smile on her face. Her hair was an ashy blonde, and under the tattoos on her neck I could see a scar that ran from her chin to under the shirt she was wearing. My teeth began to itch immediately as she got closer to me.
“Been awhile,” she said in a voice that sounded a bit like the screeching of metal that filled the air around us.
I paused and looked at her again. “Leah?” I asked.
She smiled. “Good job. Wasn’t sure you’d recognize me out of the biohazard suit. You continue to impress.”
I looked over her more closely. The tattoos were fake, but they were good fakes. She had just enough that the average person wouldn’t question them, and the elites would ignore someone at her level. She was also covered in the grease stains and other visual markers that would label her a member of the horde. The only thing that was off was her smell. Rather than gasoline I could only detect the scent of dust and gunpowder on her. Still, that wasn’t really something anyone who wasn’t a deadman would notice.
“They’ll kill you if they see through your outfit. Stolen valor has a high price here.”
Her smile remained, not touching her eyes. “They won’t see through it.” She cocked her head in the direction of an alley and walked towards it.
I followed, clearly her conversation wasn’t meant to be out in the open. I was going to ask what she was doing here, but so far as I could tell the only reason she would have to be in Horde territory, and in Fette in particular, was to see me.
“What do you want?” I asked, not wanting to play any games.
Her smile remained. “You’ve been busy since I saw you last. Murdered a mayor, did a job for the Horde, survived an area no one had returned from, and even ingratiated yourself with the Khan.”
I nodded. I had been busy, but it was a little strange to have it listed off like that. I’d done more since becoming a Marshall than I ever had as a Postman.
“Now that I know what you’re capable of, I wanted to ask for your help on a job.”
I leaned against the alley wall. “What’s the pay?”
“Well, for one it should be available to you as an investigation, so you’ll earn a fair amount of patriot points, and aside from that the job involves going into an area with some high level tech. I’m certain you could find something of value there.”
I scratched at my teeth absentmindedly under the bandana. “What’s the job?” I asked.
“You, me, and two other Marshalls are going into STAR territory, entering a bunker, and killing someone.”
I squinted. “Who's the someone?”
“Another Marshall that’s gone off the deep end. He found a bunker with some tech and thinks he can use it to make himself the king of the wastes.”
“We have enough of those.”
She nodded. “Easier to do that than be a Marshall.”
I stood there thinking for a few moments.
“There’s no rush on the job. I don’t think he’s quite figured out what he’s doing yet. Take a couple weeks. If you decide to join us then we’ll meet over in Medina. It’s a border town between Horde and STAR territory.”
“I know where it is.”
“Good. I need to meet another contact back that way. I hope to see you there. We need another gun.” With that she walked out of the alley and slipped out onto the streets.
I followed behind closely, but by the time I’d turned the corner she was out of sight.
I thought about what she had said. It made all my alarms go off. Even ignoring the fact that she obviously wasn’t telling me everything involved with the job, there was also the fact that I’d be working with an unfamiliar team in unfamiliar territory. I shook my head. Two weeks would be just enough time for me to make it back home, check with Bill, load up on gear, and head toward Medina. Since I would be heading back home either way, I got on the road and started walking.
I pulled up my citizen sheet to take a look.
Citizen: Donovan
5th Level Postman/ 3rd Level Marshall
Patriot Points: 314
SPINES: Be the backbone of America!
Strength- 22
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Perception- 17
Intelligence- 12
Nationalism- 3
Endurance- 23
Speed- 17
Job Abilities:
Neither Rain, Sleet, or Snow: You are unhampered by adverse weather
Express: You gain a 5% bonus to movement speed
Special Delivery: You can mark a delivery ‘special’ which will allow you to track it.
Under Cover: You may retain your previous job and those with the ability to read your sheet will see whichever job you choose to show.
You're Under Arrest: You may temporarily remove all job based bonuses from a target to ease apprehending them.
Freeze: Incapacitate a single target for one minute
The Eyes of the Law: Detect another citizen’s job
Skills:
Walking- 34
Pistol- 9
Loading/unloading- 22
Customer Service- 14
Driving- 5
Melee Weapons- 5
Long Guns- 6
Investigation- 8
Tracking- 3
Virus:
Deadman- Bonus to all physical stats +5, negative to social based skills
Natural weapon- Teeth
Night Vision
Accelerated Healing
Enhanced Stamina
I shook my head. In the heat of the moment I’d forgotten I could use my new ability to detect a person’s job. I’d have to start making a habit of doing that every time. I did miss that massive number of points I’d accrued before I spent them on leveling, but I could always get more. There hadn’t really been a shortage of PP since I’d become a Marshall. Aside from that I’d continued to make good progress. I felt stronger and more capable. Even though now I knew I could call on the Horde for assistance when I needed it, I would only ever use that as a last resort. I liked working alone. It was easiest to rely on the one person I knew would do what needed to be done, and that was me.
That made Leah’s request for assistance all the harder for me to consider. I traveled alone for a reason. A number of reasons. I also assumed I would be the only one of her crew that was a deadman. That would create even more problems. I’d never worked in a mixed crew, but I’d talked to some other deadmen that had. Whenever things went to shit, it was always the one with the sharp teeth and yellow eyes who was considered the most expendable. Still, another investigation meant points, and the chance at some new tech. If I managed to find something like those guns I’d encountered in Porteau, that alone would be worth it.
I kept thinking about it and walking. Letting my feet carry me across the wasteland one step at a time.
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