Mistrunner 2 - Chapter 43 - Northbound (Patreon)

He knows something. I could see it in his smug, little face. But nobody messes with Gunther and comes out the better for it. If they manage to live through it at all. He’s reasonable, though. I just need to figure out what he wants and make a deal for the information I need.

Nora Lancaster

Getting out of Nova City was a lot easier, now that everyone in the city was trying to leave. The flood of refugees was so constant that the Enforcers couldn’t check everyone. As a result, our flight was a simple matter of blending into the crowd. I had plenty of experience with that, and with my skills and abilities, I knew there was no chance the Enforcers would look twice in my direction.

For Patrick, I expected things to be different. Apparently, though, his [Smuggler]skill was good for more than just negotiation, flying, and gunfighting. It was also equipped with an ability that allowed him to blend into his surroundings. It was different from Stealth or Camouflage; it didn’t conceal his presence. Instead, it just made him seem unremarkable. The only limiter seemed to be his own Mist attribute, which seemed high enough that even I had difficulty focusing on him. And that was with me knowing what was going on. So, it seemed fair to assume that the Enforcers that guarded the gates wouldn’t notice him.

And even if they did, who cared? He wasn’t really all that remarkable, being only Tier-3. Sure, most of the other refugees would be Tier-1 or Tier-2, but people with his potential weren’t uncommon enough to garner extra attention. In any case, I didn’t think anyone was looking for him anyway.

After all, Remy had kept a low profile, so it would have been extremely surprising to find that Patrick was even on anyone’s radar.

So that was how we found ourselves standing amidst a crowd of refugees as we waited to exit the city. The line – more like a blob of people, really – was slow-moving, so I guessed it would be midday before we reached the lift that would take us down to the swamp below. I’d overheard that a temporary settlement had sprung up around the lift. From there, huge caravans going in every direction would depart. For the right price, a person could reserve a spot.

Some of those caravans were almost certainly fronts for slavers. I wouldn’t have been surprised to find that most were, in fact. But these refugees weren’t like the ones I’d accompanied into the city before; most were armed, and many sported cybernetics. Having lived in Nova City, they knew how to protect themselves. So, trying to enslave them, while not even close to impossible, would carry with it a heavy cost.

Or maybe I was just being optimistic.

It wasn’t like the hardened residents of Nova City weren’t already enslaved in droves. Why would the refugees be any better off? Maybe they’d be better protected because they were on guard, but their desperation to leave the city probably negated that advantage. There was every chance that the only thing protecting these people was the fact that there were so many of them. With that many options, the vast majority would be ignored in favor of the real gems. The beautiful ones. The useful people. The valuable commodities.

I spat on the concrete street in disgust, which drew a few angry glares from the refugees surrounding me.

I was just fed up with Nova City, and I couldn’t wait to leave it behind. When I looked at the place – when I beheld the desperate faces all around me – all I could see was oppression and enslavement. I wanted to help them, but I wasn’t even sure if they were worthy of my assistance. Most wouldn’t even accept it, they were so conditioned to look at the world through a lens of suspicion. And the few who would take my help would probably do so with an eye on betraying me the moment I had my back turned.

Nova City was a cesspool of human misery, selfishness, and despair.

I saw that now. Beneath the glitz and glamour of those flashing holograms, daring fashion, and impressive technological advances, it was everything that was wrong with the world.

No wonder my uncle had said that the aliens were destined to take over. Even if humanity somehow developed the ability to properly resist, we were too selfish to come together and work for the common good. Divide and conquer was a basic tenant of warfare, but in this case, the aliens didn’t even have to worry about dividing us. We did that to ourselves, driven by our very nature to discard the greater good in favor of our own personal enrichment.

Or survival, I supposed.

I was no better than anyone else, either. That was the worst part of it. I knew I should’ve done things differently. I’d been given great power, and I knew I could make a difference. A small one, sure, but a difference all the same. But I’d chosen a different path. I was just as selfish as anyone else, picking revenge over the common good.

And what’s worse, I knew it was the wrong choice. I knew that I should’ve tried to help people. But in the face of everything I’d seen in Nova City, I knew it wouldn’t do much good. One person, regardless of how powerful, couldn’t fight an entire system.

Not without tearing it all down.

I shook my head and turned my attention to the coming journey. Before leaving the compound, I’d had Patrick store all of our ammunition and enough supplies to last us for a few months within his own storage space. We’d even brought a few creature comforts, like cots and tents, as well as a couple of portable auto-turrets. They weren’t terribly high-quality – I expected that they couldn’t even get through the Infiltration suit, much less my skin or my sub-dermal Sheath. But that was fine. They wouldn’t be used for defense; rather, they were an early warning system combined with a distraction for any monsters that might come upon us in the night.

There were better and more expensive options to secure a location, but they were expensive, both in terms of credits and upkeep. And I just couldn’t afford the cost, which was one of the reasons I’d chosen to get out of Nova City for a while.

I could have probably stolen what I needed, but not without leaving a trail. With the ongoing tribal war, everyone was on high alert, which meant that stealing from them would probably result in me being exposed. I wasn’t ready to put my plans at risk just for a few credits. Not yet.

Couple that with my disgust with the city, as well as the potential payday that would come with completing another Rift, and leaving Nova seemed like the best option. Of course, it wouldn’t be without its own dangers. Not only would we have to traverse the wilderness – avoiding all the dangers it presented – but clearing the Rift was no trivial matter. Even finding it wasn’t altogether guaranteed, even if I’d managed to acquire a little information that I hoped would point me towards the dead zone itself.

But we had a lot of ground to cover before we got to that point. More importantly, we had to take the first step of our trip, which was to get out of Nova City. To that end, we stood in line, shuffling forward every few minutes as people were allowed onto the lift. It was a long, arduous process, and judging by the number of people behind us, it wasn’t going to end anytime soon. Probably not ever.

The worse things got in Nova, the more people would try to leave. And the lifts acted as a bottleneck, slowing everything down. Great for security, but not so good for efficiency.

Eventually, we reached the front of the line, where we were eyed by a pair of Enforcers. Dressed in their black-and-white uniforms, they looked just like every other Enforcer I’d ever seen. However, what set them apart was the sense of bored apathy that hung from their shoulders like a cloak. They’d been at it for too long to care anymore – much to my benefit, given that they weren’t alone. There were eight other Enforcers nearby, and they were all armed with assault rifles. Given half an excuse, they’d cut the vulnerable crowd to pieces.

After another ten minutes, the lift rose into view and locked into place. Only then were we allowed forward, crowding onto the metal surface right up to the edge. There were guardrails there, but they looked flimsy, like they would collapse at the slightest application of pressure. I didn’t want to be anywhere near the edge, so Patrick and I planted ourselves a few rows back.

And then, once it was full, one of the enforcers flipped a huge lever, and the lift began its descent. Creaking and screeching, it sounded like it was only a hair’s breadth from falling apart. But thankfully, we made the trip unscathed, and after we disembarked from the lift, it rose once again.

I took that opportunity to look around, and I saw exactly what I’d expected to see. The area around the base of the lift was occupied by a series of storage containers made of plasti-steel. Those would be the temporary bases of operation for the leaders of the convoys. Beyond, there were tents, in which I expected to find a rudimentary market where refugees could buy basic supplies. And just past that, I saw the convoys themselves.

Mostly, the convoys were comprised of rugged trucks that were originally meant to transport goods. I pitied the people who would be confined to those miserably cramped quarters, but it was also probably the most efficient way to move as many people as possible. It wouldn’t be comfortable, but that didn’t count for much next to the opportunity for a little more profit.

There were also a fair few military-esque vehicles that were probably supposed to act as escorts for the convoys. I was skeptical that they could do the job, given that each one of them was just a converted transport truck. Sure, they had some extra armor that had been crudely welded to the sides, and each one sported at least one cannon, but I knew just how ineffective that kind of thing could be against some of the more dangerous denizens of the wilds.

Of course, none of that mattered to the refugees. Even if they knew how poorly prepared those convoys were, they didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. Staying in Nova City was even worse than braving the dangers of the natural world. At least that was what they thought. I couldn’t help but wonder if they’d come to regret their decision to leave the familiar dangers of the city in favor of the unknown threats they would undoubtedly encounter in the wilderness.

Not to mention that I felt confident that none of the other cities were much better. Nova was a representation of the way the world was, and I couldn’t imagine that any other major city would have escaped that reality unscathed. These refugees were just trading one set of terrible circumstances for something that was probably just as bad.

But I couldn’t save them.

Nor did I really want to. I did pity them, though.

In any case, I grabbed Patrick’s wrist and pulled him aside. Once we’d moved outside the flow of traffic exiting the lift, he asked, “Where do you think they’re going?”

“I don’t care,” I said. “Most of them won’t even make it, and those that do aren’t going to be much better off. If at all.”

“That’s a cynical way of looking at it,” he said, shaking his head.

“I’ve earned my cynicism a thousand times over,” I stated. “Here, let’s hole up for a few hours until it gets dark. Then, we can slip out without anyone seeing us.”

Patrick looked around, and with a lowered voice, he asked, “You think people are looking for us?”

“No. Not us, specifically, at least. But if we’re seen going off on our own, it’ll probably get people asking questions,” I said. If I’d been alone, I could have gotten away using Stealth and Camouflage, but with Patrick tagging along, that was impossible. Perhaps his abilities would help, but they were untested, and I didn’t want to depend on them. It was much better to slip out under the cover of darkness.

For the next few hours, we visited the various tents, buying a few things here and there. We already had supplies, but we were playing the role of refugees. So, it would have been noteworthy if we didn’t buy some supplies. We also spoke to a few caravan leaders, and the situation turned out just as I’d expected. Some of them were better than others, but all of them were in it for profit. A few even offered spots in their caravans in exchange for indenture, which I knew would almost assuredly become true slavery.

Because that was how people worked. The moment these people were any significant distance from the city, they would be vulnerable. Some caravan leaders were honest, and they’d stick to the deals they’d made. However, just as many would probably shake their passengers down. Some might even just kill them, take whatever they had, and return to the camp for another batch.

Thankfully, I had no intention of dealing with any of them. Not really. But Patrick and I did speak to a few, playing our parts as well as we could manage.

Like that, we spent the hours until nightfall, and when the sun finally set, we slipped through the shadows and fled the camp. Once we were a few miles away, I summoned my Cutter, and we set off to the north, using the crumbling highways to speed us on our way.

For the rest of that night, I kept Observationflared. I didn’t want a repeat of what had happened outside of Biloxi, when I’d been ambushed by a horde of wildlings. But nothing assaulted us, and we made decent time.

More than once, we encountered fallen bridges and were forced to backtrack in order to find intact routes across streams, lakes, and marshes. And the roads were overgrown enough that we couldn’t travel at much more than an idle. But even with that, that first night saw us leaving Nova City far behind.

We stayed in an abandoned house that I thought had probably been old, even before the Initialization. Beneath all the grime and the vines covering the building’s façade, it had been painted white. At a couple of stories tall, with thick columns and a peaked roof, it was easy to imagine that it had once been a majestic structure – especially surrounded as it was by ancient oak trees.

But that image was ruined by the fact that half of the building had been crushed by a fallen aircraft. The vehicle was very different than what I’d come to expect, with broad wings and a sleek fuselage.

“It’s an airplane,” said Patrick. “Remy tried to explain how they worked. Something about lift, air pressure, and speed. I didn’t really understand it, if I’m honest. Modern ships are a lot less complicated, what with Mist and all.”

I shrugged. “They had to work with what they had available, I guess,” I said.

Then, we headed inside, where we found a secure room to make camp. That night, Patrick tried to make a move, but I shut him down. Despite the night we’d shared, I didn’t want to complicate the trip with romance. In fact, I regretted my moment of weakness for that very reason. Perhaps it was silly of me – there was part of my mind that was screaming at me to stop being an idiot and to take whatever pleasure I could get out of the world – but I resisted. Even if I did want to let it progress, it wouldn’t have been in the center of a steadily rotting house. I had more respect for intimacy than that.

Or maybe I was just scared of letting myself get too close. After all, when I’d gone down that road in the past, everyone had either died or betrayed me. And given the nature of my life, it wasn’t a leap to expect it to happen again. I could protect myself well enough – and if I failed, then I wouldn’t be around to regret it – but with others? That was different. The burden of keeping someone like Patrick safe would run the risk of derailing my plans.

And that wasn’t the worst that could happen.

How would I react if he ended up dead because of me? I didn’t want to consider it.

So, I focused on my mental exercises, less for the training itself and more for the distraction it represented. Fortunately, Patrick took the hint, and, after setting up his cot, went to sleep.

I might’ve imagined it, but it felt a little like he was sulking. Or maybe he was just confused. I don’t know, and right then, I didn’t want to explore it any further.

The rest of the night passed without incident, and the next morning, we resumed our journey north. However, midway through the morning, we encountered something that took my breath away.

The road cut off only twenty feet ahead of us, giving way to a huge crater that was absolutely filled with abandoned and rusted tanks. But that wasn’t what drew my eye. Instead, I couldn’t tear my gaze away from the skeleton at the center of the crater.  It was at least fifty yards long – probably bigger – and it reminded me of the alligator I’d fought during my first trip outside of Nova City.

But it was subtly different. More sinuous. And far bigger.

I couldn’t be sure, but that skeleton brought to mind a mythical creature. Certainly, I knew it was probably just some grossly mutated reptile, but looking at the size of the skeleton and taking in its imposing nature, I couldn’t think of it as anything but a dragon.

Thankfully, it was dead.

But the question remained – if one of them had existed, who was to say that there weren’t more out there?