Chapter 13: Friend Only To the Undertaker
Luna, Fred, and Dana were all gathered around an old folding camping table, a post-war roadmap spread across the top.
"Okay, let's review. Right now, we've got just enough fuel to make it to Tulsa." Luna said.
"Couldn't we just…y'know, find a truck stop-" Fred began.
"Too dicey, considering this is road gang territory and we're underarmed." Dana butted in.
"Define 'underarmed'." Luna replied.
"If it was up to me, your bus would have both sandbags and some kind of heavy weapon like an M240 on the roof."
"And where, pray tell, can we find such a weapon?"
"National Guard installations, assuming one of Eiling's goon squads hasn't gotten there first. Or if you don't want to take that kind of a chance, we can probably get one in Tulsa- if you're willing to pay through the nose."
A few hours later
"Daphne?"
"Yes, Ace?"
"Why'd those bad men kill my mom and dad?" the little girl asked, her voice quavering as she snuggled deeper into one of the padded cots in the back of the Mystery Machine.
How do I put this? Daphne thought as she tucked her ward in.
"Because some people in this world think that they can just take everything at the point of a gun. And when other people stand up to them, then sometimes they decide to use that gun."
She took a deep breath.
"But there're also people like me and my friends in this world- people who make sure that bad guys face justice. Now, pleasant dreams, Ace. I'll see you in the morning."
Ace nodded before proceeding to turn over on her side and drift peacefully off to sleep for the first time in ages.
Sleep tight, kiddo. Because with sentry duty, I know I certainly won't be for the next few hours. Daphne thought as she opened her hip pouch and grabbed a bottle of caffeine pills.
"So, where'd you get some schway firepower like that?"
Daphne turned her head to see one of the three prisoners from Scrapheap (Terry, she thought he was called) standing next to her, his rifle pointed at the ground.
"Wait- aren't you supposed to be, y'know, the diehard one of the trio?" she asked.
"Let's just say that Dana can be very…persuasive sometimes."
As Daphne focused her attention on Terry's face, she noticed a number of seemingly recent injuries- namely a black eye and a swollen lower lip.
"So, what's your story, Mister-"
"McGinnis, but everyone just calls me Terry. Well, everyone except for my old drill sergeant and CO- they just called me aught-one-aught-nineteen triple nine."
Just then, something clicked in his head.
"So, since we've got nothing better to do at the moment, how about we, y'know, swap stories- you tell me where you got that plasma gun, I tell you how I got in that fallout shelter, that sort of thing."
"Deal."
"So, you want to go first, or do you want me to?"
"I'll do it."
Terry nodded, and Daphne began.
"Well, it was about 2, maybe 3 years ago. We were up in a small settlement in the Dakotas, trying to make sure that tensions between the settlers and the local Lakota didn't flare up into a full-fledged shooting war."
"Guess even after a hundred years, some things never change." Terry piped up, earning a dirty look from Daphne.
"Anyways, it turned out that LexCorp had built themselves a nice fancy automated industrial complex out in that particular neck of the woods back before the war, the head of the settlement's militia had managed to stumble upon it, and he figured he could carve out his own little proverbial hill using the goodies inside."
"So, what'd he try to do?"
"Activated one of the complex's tin soldiers and gave it orders to eliminate 'high-value enemy targets'. And you can guess who he'd designated as the enemy."
Terry nodded.
"What happened next?"
"After we exposed him, settler and Lakota alike put their differences aside and lynched him."
"But you didn't tell me where you got the gun."
"I found it in the LexCorp complex."
"So even after the end, Luthor's still screwing humanity over." Terry said.
A pregnant silence settled over the two.
"So, about that story I owe you."
"What about it?"
"I don't really feel all that comfortable about telling you how me and the others ended up in the fallout shelter right now."
"What do you want to tell instead?"
"You were around back before the apocalypse, right?"
Daphne nodded.
"What was it like seeing the world slide into hell?"
"Honestly, apart from Corto Maltese and the Coldbringer, it was all kind of a blur- all we really noticed was what we saw on the news. Why do you ask?"
"Because back when I was with Eiling, me and a bunch of the other recruits got a crash course as to just what happened during the Last War. It wasn't pretty."
"I imagine it w-"
"Whatever you're imagining, the reality was far worse if what I've read and heard is true."
"…how bad?"
"Fear gas bombs going off over Eastern Europe and East Asia. NATO and its partners, the Warsaw Pact, and the Chinese throwing bleeding-edge, barely-tested machines at each other. Wounded men fit only for medical discharge being outfitted with the same augmentations as that Cyborg guy from the Titans, just so that they can go back into the fight. And seeing as that was just a sampler, maybe it was for the best that they dropped the bombs."
In the darkness, nobody could have noticed that all the color had drained from Daphne's face. Just then, there was a beep from Terry's watch.
"Well, our shift's over. Catch you in the morning."
And with that, Terry walked away, leaving Daphne alone in the darkness.
"You're scared, aren't you?" a voice said from behind.
Daphne practically jumped out of her skin at the voice before noticing who the source was.
"Ace, don't sneak up on me like that- I could've blasted you by mistake! And what're you doing out of bed?"
"I had to use the little girls' room, and I was on my way back when I picked up on one of your thoughts. If it'd make you feel better, you can sleep next to me tonight."
"Y'know, that actually sounds like a good idea."
The next morning
"Like, it's time for breakfast!" Shaggy began as he flung open the rear doors of the Mystery Machine, barely noticing that Daphne and Ace's cots had been pushed together and that the former's arm was clasped around the little girl in a maternal embrace.
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
And thus ends three (possibly four) consecutive chapters of gut punches- after all, overusing those gut punches is a good way to make them less meaningful further down the road.
