The Wastelander Read online

  “You seriously letting him in?”

  “He’s just a fucking scav!”

  “Shut your fucking mouth. You aren’t exactly a fucking noble either! I’m the fucking boss here. What I say goes!” The fat man fired yet another round into the air. “Even a brat like him has the balls to fight. What are the rest of you are afraid of? If you go fight the sweepers, I’ll give you each two pieces of bread and a bottle of water. If you don’t go, I’ll let you have a taste of gunpowder!”

  For scavengers, the most irresistible type of temptation was food. In turn, the most terrifying fear was that of death.

  This new ”proposal” was far more effective than the previous one. The scavengers began to step forward and soon Slyfox was able to fully assemble his suicide squ-… ahem, his lionheart squad!

  The fat man called out loudly, “Send this batch over right away. The others can wait here. You there. Kid. Get in the car with me!”

  Cloudhawk was dragged into the front passenger seat. The engine revved to life with a bestial howl before he even had a chance to find his footing, the momentum caused him to be pressed firmly against the seat.

  This ramshackle vehicle was cobbled together from seven or eight different vehicles and seemed ready to fall apart at a moment’s notice, but once it started to move, it moved at incredible speeds, instantly zipping off into the distance.

  The real problem was that the damn thing didn’t have any seatbelts. The scavengers had no choice but to desperately cling on for dear life in order to not be sent flying.

  The six wastelands riders each brought a scavenger along with them. The bigfoot birds twisted their necks, then immediately began to gallop across the sands with their giant feet. As for the porcupine-like vehicle, it was now packed to the brim with scavengers. It clambered up and down the sand dunes, dangerously veering right and left as it just barely avoided the obstacles in its path. It was an exciting but incredibly bumpy ride and it felt as though it were a small boat being tossed about in a storm at sea.

  Cloudhawk felt both nervous and excited. His entire body was trembling, whether it was due to the terrifying prospect of facing the savage sweepers or the chance of seeing the vast world outside the scavenger camp. Every single cell in his body screamed in excitement.

  One thought in particular dominated his mind.

  Old-timer, are you seeing this? I just made it out of the camp!

  Shortly after the car charged out of the ruins, a group of wanderers could be seen moving through the sands up ahead. Not only did the fat man not move to avoid them, he actually accelerated straight towards them.

  “Careful!” Cloudhawk cried out in shock, “There are people there!”

  The monstrous vehicle barreled straight through, sending the first person flying while slicing his chest open. A large amount of blood splattered inside the vehicle like crimson rain, sprinkling across Slyfox’s clothes as well as Cloudhawk’s face. A few pieces of mangled human flesh and gore covered the vehicle.

  “Bahahahahaha!”

  The fat man let out a few crazed laughs and turned on the automatic windshield wiper, letting the wiper sweep away the chunks of flesh and blood on the glass windshield. He then turned the vehicle, using it to crush yet another one of the nomads. Cloudhawk could hear, sense, and even feel the wheels of the car crush the man’s body and splinter his very bones.

  A look of savage, wild glee was on the fat man’s face. He took another puff of his cigarbefore chasing down a third person. This one was knocked flying and was smashed to death!

  “Awesome. Absolutely fucking awesome.” The mounted wastelands riders used their bigfoot birds to chase after the survivors, cutting down the defenseless wanderers like wheat. One of the riders sank his hook into the jaw of one of the wastelands nomads and dragged the barbarian behind him like a piece of garbage, leaving behind a smear of blood and gore on the ground.

  Cloudhawk’s entire body was as cold as ice, and he couldn’t stop the shivering. A look of confusion and rage was on his young face as he glared at the fat man. “W-why… why are you doing this?!”

  Scavengers also killed others, but that was only when they were starving. It was an act of madness that they only carried out for the sake of survival! These excavators didn’t lack for food. They were doing this for nothing more than pure amusement. Cloudhawk simply couldn’t understand why they were acting like this!

  “Hah! None of your fucking business.” The fat man spat loudly. “And you don’t know shit. These are roamers! Killing them is doing a service to the wastelands.”

  The four main ”organizations” in the wastelands were the scavengers (scavs), the excavators (diggers), the nomads (roamers), and the sweepers.

  Scavengers were at the bottom of the totem pole. Once a group of scavengers learned how to operate excavating machinery to search for weapons in the ruins or learned how to master other tools or trades, they would have a chance to set up their own society and become excavators themselves.

  Scavengers often drank highly contaminated water and ate mutated food. This sort of inhospitable environment caused many of them to slowly mutate in both body and mind. The vast majority of these mutants would become as savage and cruel as animals and would leave the society of scavengers to become nomad wanderers who would roam the lands and prey upon whoever they found.

  Once enough nomads gathered together in one place, they would eventually become groups of sweepers who swept through entire regions of the wastelands. Whenever they passed through a region, they would threaten the local scavengers and excavators alike with the risk of utter annihilation.

  How many scavenger, excavator, nomad, and sweeper organizations existed in the wastelands?Far too many.

  This ancient city alone was filled with many different scavenger camps, as well as countless excavator and sweeper and groups.

  In the end, the twenty-plus scavengers were sent to the temporary excavator base.

  This base was a strangely shaped building that was planted into the ground like an inverted pyramid. It was enormous and although it had clearly seen better times, it was still obvious that it was both in pattern and style something the likes of which had never before appeared in any period of human history. This building was something that suddenly appeared upon this vast earth.

  A jerry-rigged truck was parked in the shadow of the inverted pyramid. It had a total of five wheels, with the sole frontal wheel being the smallest. The two wheels in the middle were larger, while the two wheels in the back were almost half the size of a man. The truck itself was large and highly functional, with its sides covered by random steel chains and wire circles. It looked like a giant ugly lizard, but it seemed capable of bearing a heavy load.

  The fat man leapt out of his vehicle and hollered, “Mad Dog, hurry up and come say hello to the fresh meat!”

  The man nicknamed ”Mad Dog” was the fellow standing next to the truck. He was an awesomely muscled black man who was 1.9 meters tall. His bald head and face were both covered with all sorts of scars, large and small. One of the scars looked as though it had been left by someone who had chopped his head in half, only for someone else to somehow use a large number of needles and thread to stitch the pieces back together.

  Savage, ferocious, hideous. These three words were invented to describe him!

  Mad Dog was a man of some status, but his equipment looked quite simple and crude. He didn’t have any firearms of his own. All he had was a pair of daggers that were tucked into sheaths around his waist. He was dressed in a set of leather armor that bristled with spikes that mostly served to protect his chest and abdomen. His muscular arms and his shoulders were completely bare, looking like chiseled slabs of black marble.

  The black man coldly swept the scavengers with his gaze. Wordlessly, he turned and pulled open the chains to the truck, revealing the many items it held within it. “Choose for yourselves!”

  The scavengers stared at the large pile of miscellaneous weapons in front of the
m. There were spears, machetes, hammers, axes… Although these items were all rather clumsily-made ”cold weapons”, for scavengers, they were still incredibly rare and valuable.

  “Pick a weapon that suits your hand. Whether or not you’ll be able to survive will be up to you.” The fat man said to Mad Dog, “Let them enjoy a last supper. They probably aren’t gonna have another chance like this again!”

  The fat man clearly didn’t give a shit about the feelings of his recruited scavengers, given that he said these words openly and loudly.

  Looks of terror appeared in the eyes of the scavengers. They had no idea what sort of cruelty and savagery they were in for.

  They had no choice but to start choosing their own weapons. Machetes and axes carried a lot of power, but Cloudhawk wasn’t strong enough to use them. In the end, he chose a short sword that was less than three feet long. When Cloudhawk felt the cold metal of the sword cool his hands, he couldn’t help but feel slightly more at ease.

  No matter what happened, he would accept it. Even if his chances of surviving were slim, he would still try his best to stay alive. Cloudhawk refused to be a lowly scavenger for the rest of his life. He didn’t want to die alone and forgotten like the old-timer had.

  3 Mad Dog

  A faint, cloying smell emanated from the wax paper, assaulting his nostrils with its fragrance. It was an intoxicating feeling that would make a man feel like he was dreaming.

  Two pieces of tough black bread and a bottle of lightly contaminated water. The scavengers had never even seen such high quality food before. As such, they were lost in a state of incredible bliss.

  Cloudhawk’s hands shook as he slowly unwrapped the waxy paper, looking almost like a devout pilgrim who was handling a sacred object. Just like that, the two pieces of hard bread appeared before his eyes. Their fragrance grew even stronger than before, causing his mouth to almost immediately water. Bread. This was bread!

  He had seen pictures of this food before in books. He never would’ve imagined that such a legendary delicacy would appear in his very own hands. In the ruins, these two pieces of bread would be worth a man’s life. No. They would be worth the lives of ten men!

  Cloudhawk carefully broke off a small piece of bread and put it into his mouth. He closed his eyes, carefully savoring the taste. He first allowed his saliva to slowly soften the tough bread, allowing its unique flavors to spread across the tip of his tongue. This sensation felt so wonderful that it seemed almost unreal, completely intoxicating him. It was as if he were dreaming.

  However, this wonderful dream was rudely and abruptly interrupted.

  A skinny but muscular figure walked towards him, machete in hand. The man’s face sported a hideous knife scar. Who was this? It was the man who led the others in stealing Cloudhawk’s meat just yesterday.

  He had come to take part in this activity as well!

  Cloudhawk picked up his short sword, glaring at the scar-faced man with undisguised hostility. He looked almost like an enraged young leopard. Yesterday, he had already eaten his fill and so there was no need for him to fight to the death. Today, things were different. If anyone dared to try and take his bread away from him, he’d plunge his short sword through that person’s heart, even if it meant dying with him!

  “I’m not interested in your food!”

  “Then what do you want?”

  The scar-faced man gave him a strange look, which flickered into a chilling one. “See that over there? There are only three diggers, but that truck is filled with bread and water. All of us are armed. Why don’t we give it a shot?”

  There were only three excavators guarding the truck, none of whom were armed with firearms. It was highly likely that the excavators had brought the scavengers here to send them to their deaths. Rather than sit here and wait to die, why not join forces and kill the three instead? Food, weapons, water… These were the most important things the wastelands had to offer and they would be able to obtain all three in one go!

  When the scavengers thought back to how utterly delicious the bread was, their eyes couldn’t help but turn bloodshot. A communal greed and desire to kill began to quickly rise within their hearts.

  Kill them all! Chop them into mincemeat!

  The scavengers all rose to their feet. The scar-faced man glared at the irresolute Cloudhawk. “You comin’ or not?”

  All men had desires and the desires for food and survival were amongst the most powerful. In fact, Cloudhawk wanted to join them, but… the experiences he had gone through while living in the ruins for so many years made it impossible for him to trust the scar-faced man and the others. An underage, undersized youth… Even if they did manage to seize all the bread and water, would the scar-faced man and the others really share it with him?

  The answer was obvious.

  There was no way the scar-faced man would give him so much as a single roll of bread. Instead, all the scavengers would join together to wipe out the weaklings of the group because with each person they killed, each survivor would gain a correspondingly greater amount of resources.

  And… would the scavengers even be able to succeed?

  This question seemed idiotic. Twenty against three? The answer was obvious. But, for some reason, Cloudhawk had a very bad feeling about what was about to happen!

  Cloudhawk snuck a glance at the black man. When he did, he couldn’t help but feel his scalp grow numb. It was as if a bucket of icewater had just been poured over his head.

  The savage-looking black man was actually looking straight at the scavengers, as if he could hear what they were saying.

  Their gazes met.

  Cloudhawk felt as if he had been struck by a thunderbolt. The pitifully limited vocabulary he possessed wasn’t even close to being enough to describe the feeling those eyes gave him!

  That sharp, fierce glare contained an indescribable, awesome power. It didn’t feel like the gaze of a man; rather, it felt like the gaze of a terrifying mutabeast. There was a naked warning in that gaze: All of you are nothing more than a group of pitifully weak prey. You aren’t even worth worrying about!

  Cloudhawk could sense every muscle in his body turning taut with fear. It was as if he were a juvenile animal who had just been paralyzed with terror. Although he knew he had no chance of surviving, his subconscious desire was to fight back!

  “Don’t go.” Cloudhawk summoned every scrap of courage and strength he had to finally break their shared gaze, only to find that he was drenched in icy sweat. He whispered, “You are all gonna die!”

  “You useless piece of crap!” The scar-faced man spat hard and then said to the other scavengers, “Let’s kill those diggers, then come back and deal with this piece of trash.”

  “Alright!”

  The twenty-plus scavengers began to move in unison, their eyes filled with a silent grimness. Everyone who lived within the wastelands knew exactly what that grim look signified. The scavengers had transformed into a pack of wolves or, to be more precise, they had become a pack of hungry wolves stalking their prey.

  Mad Dog was neither nervous nor impatient. He just continued to puff on his cigarette as though the pack of hungry human wolves in front of him didn’t even exist.

  He did momentarily glance at the skinny youth who was silently squatting next to the wall and chewing on a piece of bread. That particular scav was a bit interesting. He was clever and sharp. The kid’s gaze had been almost bestial, filled with a certain stubborn wildness. He had actually managed to lock eyes with Mad Dog for quite some time without breaking down.

  Most importantly, the kid had a good nose for danger. Was that the reason he elected not to join the others in their suicidal plan? What an interesting kid!

  “Whaddya doing?! You lookin’ to die?!”

  “You overestimate yourselves, you cockroaches. All of you need to back the fuck up!”

  By now, the other two mercenaries had also noticed that the scavengers were beginning to move. They pulled out their weapons, cursing
angrily with menacing looks on their faces. The scavengers, however, didn’t respond to them at all as they continued to draw closer and closer.

  “Eheheh. C’mon, guys. Why you gotta be like this?” Mad Dog let out a deep, hoarse chuckle that sounded like the hooting of an owl. When he smiled, the hideous scars across his face twisted and turned like so many ugly centipedes. He casually tossed his cigarette to the ground before grinding it into the mud with the tip of his boot. “Y’know, I was feeling pretty bored. Step aside, rookies.”

  “Mad Dog, boss, don’t…”

  The two mercenaries exchanged a glance with Mad Dog and immediately shut their mouths. They silently stepped aside, looking sympathetic as they glanced at the foolish scavengers.

  Mad Dog grinned savagely as he slowly pulled out his two gleaming machetes. The machetes were shaped somewhat like kukris, except the "backs” of the machetes were flat while the blades were curved. The blades were extremely wide and very top-heavy, requiring tremendous wrist strength to properly wield. The shocking thing was, after Mad Dog pulled them out, he casually tossed them to the ground, balling up his fists as he walked towards the scavengers.

  Why did he throw his weapons away?

  Why was he able to face more than twenty men without looking the slightest bit nervous?

  Why was he walking straight towards a large group of armed scavengers by himself?

  The scavengers had lost all rationality by now. They were bloodthirsty and brimmed with the desire to murder. None of what Mad Dog was doing made any sense, but all such considerations had long ago fled their minds. The scar-faced man let out a loud roar: “Kill!” And just like that, the dozens of scavengers charged forwards like a pack of starving mongrels.

  The scar-faced man lifted his machete up high, charging at the forefront of his pack. On his right was a scavenger who wielded a metal rod, while on his left was a scavenger who held an axe. These were the three strongest and most agile scavengers in this group, which was why they led the vanguard in this charge!