Deadman - Book 2 Chapter 36: Out of the Frying Pan

Book 2 Chapter 36: Out of the Frying Pan

I let the red haze that had been at the edge of my vision fully consume me. My limbs became a blur of motion as I cut and tore my way through the sharp toothed greenery that now surrounded me. I felt the pain of their bites and tears at me at the edge of my awareness, my only focused thought being to continue moving in a single direction. There was no way I’d be able to destroy the entire forest after all, I needed to escape. While I was tearing my way through, wishing that the forest was made of soft flesh rather than hardwood, I found myself wondering how the Pilgrim had gotten through this obstacle. He had seemed to be the average deadman, and while we were more capable than the majority of humans on average, this seemed beyond the capabilities of most, maybe even me. He must’ve had some clever way around it. This was the closest of the landmarks to his starting point after all, it was probable that he and his people dealt with it on a regular basis.

I was snapped back into consciousness by a number of branches suddenly managing to wrap themselves around my legs and chest. Up until that point I had been able to avoid them since they were moving so slowly, but now that I seemed to be in the thickest portion of the forest, I had stayed within reach for longer. I fell forward as the branches and vines slowly began to pull me back. I drove my sword into the ground in front of myself to keep myself from being pulled back further, but it was a losing battle. The branches and vines pulled slowly, but did so with an incredible amount of strength. Thinking quickly, I kept one hand on the sword handle while I reached into my pack. I struggled, holding on with all my strength while also trying to locate what I needed. Eventually I felt what I was looking for.

I pulled the laspistol out of my bag and started firing, aiming behind myself at the largest cluster of branches. The chattering sped up, and I thought I heard a low groan as I held down the trigger and watched as holes burned not only through what had grabbed onto me, but into the trees, and growth behind that, and even further beyond. Several small fires even began spreading. I felt the pull on my slacken, and made a push forward and out of the hold the woods had on me.

I started cutting the woods in front of me again, firing my pistol at the same time to keep the branches back, and eventually the resistance I was receiving actually started to slacken. Whether it was because the woods had somehow realized I was too spicy of a meal, or I was simply getting further from the forest’s center, I wasn’t certain.

I felt the rads that had been buffeting me intensely since my trip into the cut begin to gently fade until they felt just like the level of a regular deadzone, then start to fall even below that. When I reached a point in which the trees and bushes weren’t taking even a single nibble, I slowed down, letting the red clear from my vision. A part of me wanted to take a few more spiteful shots into the brush, but I decided against it. I saw a few small hints of smoke rising behind me, and decided to move off the trail I’d been making and find somewhere to rest.

I hiked until I felt I was far enough away from the smoke trail I’d created to take a breather. I wasn’t sure what I’d encounter here, and what might be drawn to smoke. I took out and devoured more of the strange bird I’d killed the day before, taking no time to savor and instead focusing on getting as much into my gullet as quickly as I possibly could. Healing and utilizing my Adaptive Empowerment ability both always left me with an incredible appetite.

When I was done I looked around and took in my surroundings. Unlike the toothed part of the forest, I could now hear and smell activity all around me. I likely wouldn’t need to worry about finding food any time soon. I did a quick inventory. I was doing well on 9mm, and shotgun shells, my .308 was sitting at about half of what I’d started with. I still had another laspistol, though the one I’d just been using was likely getting low. Sword was dull, and beyond that starting to show wear from heavy use, though I’d done what I could to take care of it. No explosives left, used most of them before I’d even made it halfway, and the last grenade had been lobbed at the man-wyrmst. Food had just gotten low again, and water stores weren’t ideal. Overall everything was in a relatively middling state. I felt prepared for what I might encounter, but definitely needed to source some new supplies before I made my way back across. Though hopefully I’d be able to do so at less cost both to myself and my supplies.

I took some time to clean and prep my weapons, reorganize my pack, and update my journals and maps before deciding to get moving again. I stood, and went to move back to where I’d initially broken out of the forest of teeth when I thought I heard the sound of gunshots. I paused, listening for a few moments. There was nothing, then suddenly I heard the telltale pops, coming from the northwest. I drew my pistol and started making my way, slowly, toward the sound.

As I moved, the shots started to come faster and faster, louder and louder. I began hearing voices between fire after that. It was when I reached the edge of the woods, and saw a clearing ahead, that the voices began to come into focus.

“BE, AGGRESIVE B-E AGGRESIVE!”

The chant continued like that, and I found myself, much as I had the last time I’d reached a clearing in a dangerous forest, completely at a loss for words. Ahead of me and slightly to the right was a group of about twenty humans. The men were all wearing massive shoulderpads and helmets, all emblazoned with hand painted images of panthers, some designs of which were continued down onto bare stomachs and chests. A few of them were pushing what looked to be mobile barricades forward, while men behind them would peak up and take shots. Behind all of them, safely protected by a number of the barricades, was a group of young women. They were wearing short skirts along with a small crop-tops, decorated similarly to the men in front of her and led by one holding a microphone and wearing a large crown. She held a megaphone, and was actually dancing, backed up by the other young women, as she chanted.

The tide of the battle shifted, and she changed her cheer to, “DEE-FENCE! DEE-FENCE!”. Between which she added, “Honor the coach! We must earn our place in the eternal state championships!”

I realized then, that she was the leader in the situation. Her chants were the orders she was relaying to her soldiers who followed them with gusto. I’d met some Kaijin who had used drums, songs, and even birdsong as a method of signaling one another, but never anything so flashy as what I was witnessing then.

I was so distracted watching the Panther’s that I forgot to see who their opponents were. On the other side of them, was a different group. They were dressed in much the same way as the others, but instead of Panthers, they were covered in symbols of hawks, and were primarily wearing clothes of brown and yellow rather than the black of their opponents. I saw no deadmen on either side, and as I had no idea what the stakes of their conflict was, I took careful cover and watched as their skirmish unfolded. It was a brutal battle of attrition, with one side gaining territory, only to be beaten back shortly afterward. There seemed to be a ritualistic method to how they exchanged fire and did battle, but I couldn’t decipher the specifics beyond the feeling that that was the case. Eventually the battle seemed to be going for the Panthers, and then it suddenly ceased.

“WE CALL FOR THE KICKERS!” Yelled the Panther’s leader.

“WE ANSWER THE CALL!” Yelled that of the Hawk’s.

Suddenly I saw a single man from either side of the field suddenly run up into the middle of things. No one fired on them, just watching anxiously or with stoic interest. I realized that both of the men were holding a small oddly shaped object. The Panther’s kicker managed to kick the object first and I watched as it sailed into the ranks of the Hawks. The Hawks near it didn’t move, though I watched their eyes widen in fear and a few of them grit their teeth. There was an explosion, and I wasn’t able to see their reaction, as the Hawk’s kicker hit their own explosive. His went wide and to the right. I watched as it flew awkwardly through the air, and landed right in front of me.

“Fuck.”