27 – Priorities

***Congratulations, Andy! You defended your settlement and have slain four members of a neighboring, hostile settlement. Because of this battle, you can declare war on the Hardhead Construction City settlement. Doing so will have myriad effects; here’s a brief overview:

1. System-Granted War Bonuses: Upon a formal declaration of war, your community will experience a morale boost and be offered war-related quests. These quests can be used to win special war boons, which can be used to improve the defensive and offensive infrastructure of your settlement.

2. Warlord’s Mandate: A proper declaration makes this a System-sanctioned war, meaning that the victors will be able to claim conquered resources.

3. Experience and Improvement Point Multiplier: Participating in a System-sanctioned war means bonuses to experience and awarded improvement points, especially if earned during conflict with your enemy settlement.

4. Strategic Disruption of the Enemy: Your formal declaration will sow discord within the enemy ranks—they will suffer a morale debuff.

5. War-Based System Rewards: Participants in the war can earn prestige titles and System-generated treasures.

Should you choose to declare war on your hostile neighbor, simply access the settlement management menu to do so.***

***Congratulations, Andy! You’ve gained two levels and earned two improvement points!***

***Andy, because of your clever and deadly approach, you’ve earned a new Notable Distinction.

Reaper’s Instinct: Whether by instinct or fate, your strikes tend to find the weakest points in your enemies' defenses. When you move unseen, your hand is guided with deadly precision, striking where it matters most. Those who never see you coming never get the chance to regret it.***

If Andy hadn’t been standing over a corpse in the middle of a desert full of monsters, he might have reread that message a dozen times. Things being what they were, he settled for two read-throughs. Shaking his head, he started walking away but stopped, returning to the corpse. As disturbing as it was, he needed to find the knife with his blood on it. It wasn’t on Hank, so Andy hurried over to the guy with the raincoat.

Again, he came up empty for the knife, but his eyes fell on the long staff the man had been carrying. He picked it up, eyes widening at the heft. It was easily twice as heavy as his spear. “Nice and straight, too.” So, with staff, spear, and hatchet in hand, he jogged off, looking for his other two victims. He couldn’t find them at first, so he backtracked to the trees and the campfire, figuring he could use that as a starting point toward the first two bodies.

When he got there, though, he found three big backpacks full of supplies and, on a flat rock near the fire, a bloody throwing knife. Andy picked it up, tucked it into his belt, and stared at the supply packs. He felt like things were spiraling out of his control, and every time he turned around, a new thing popped up for him to deal with.

Of course, it was nice to find supplies. It was nice that he had a staff that might become a very good spear haft, but how was he supposed to carry it all and still go after the Whistler? The answer was obvious: he needed to prioritize. Right then, in light of everything he’d learned from the men he’d killed and the ominous System message about settlement wars, he decided to reshuffle his list of objectives and put getting back to the trailer park at the top of the list.

“So, Whistler gets a pass… for now.” Nodding, Andy stooped to pick up the biggest pack, shrugging his shoulders through the straps. Then he picked up another and put it backward on his chest. It was ridiculous and cumbersome, but he could jog with it like that. He hooked the hatchet through a loop on one of the packs, then, with spear and staff on one shoulder and the third pack in his free hand, he started back toward the trailer park.

He kept to the shadows and was careful to avoid any sign of movement or sounds that drifted to him out of the darkness. He used Twilight Steps as much as he could, only pausing it when his mana got low to give it a chance to recover. As he ran, his mind was busy mulling over the System’s message and the implications.

He had so many thoughts running through his head that it was hard to organize them, but he tried. For starters, he had to admit that his settlement was in danger. Regardless of whether or not he declared war on the Construction City settlement, he had to assume that, eventually, their leader would get some sort of message from the System offering the same opportunity to them. Their leader, Brooks, didn’t sound like the kind of guy who would pass up an advantage, especially if he was intent on dominating the area anyway.

That was one issue. The other issue was that the System seemed to want to encourage conflict. He sort of knew that already, but Andy hadn’t considered it on a large enough scale. On the one hand, it reinforced his growing resentment toward the “Architects,” but on the other, he had to consider that it was trying to add structure to the evil chaos of war. Any sane person would agree that war was never good, but could some rules make it slightly less…awful?

Of course, thinking about war and evil brought Andy’s thoughts around to the fact that he’d killed four people that night. He’d been defending himself for part of it, but he could have gotten away a couple of times and left people alive. The worst thing about the whole experience was that he didn’t feel any remorse. He didn’t feel bad that those men were dead. As he considered that, he realized it wasn’t entirely true. He felt remorse, but it was more for himself or, more accurately, the Andy who’d existed before he’d run into those four men.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

The fact was, Andy recognized the change in himself; he wasn’t the same guy as the one who’d woken up hungover just a day and a half ago. He’d been through too much. He’d done too much. He’d killed too much. “And there’s no putting the toothpaste back in that tube,” he muttered, laying eyes on the trailer park gate as he cleared a row of creosote bushes and climbed the berm to the gravel road.

He jogged toward the chain link fence, his footsteps heavy with his load, and a familiar voice called, “Andy!”

“Lucy?” As he approached, he heard the rattle of the chain sliding down the side of the gate with a final clank. “You watching the gate?”

“I couldn’t sleep knowing you were out there.” She grunted, pushing the gate to get it rolling.

“Thanks,” he said, going through and then unloading all the packs with great relief. When his hands were free, he helped her push the gate closed and lock it up.

“Is that stuff from him?” As she took in his face, still bloody from his scalp wound, her eyes widened and she hissed. “God, Andy! Are you okay?”

Andy nodded. “I’m fine. It’s not as bad as it looks. And, no, this stuff’s not Whistler’s. I didn’t make it back to the ranch homes. I had a bit of an adventure in the desert.” He winced, rolling his injured shoulder. Jogging through the desert with two packs had been pretty much the opposite of what it needed.

“An adventure?”

Andy took a minute to really look at Lucy. Hadn’t she been part of his inspiration for killing those men? Was she worth it? He shut that cynical voice down. The answer was yes, anyway. As far as he was concerned, she was a good person—someone willing to stick her neck out for strangers’ kids, someone who’d refused a quest to hunt down a guy who’d tried to get her killed. So, yeah, she was worth it, and so were all those kids and the other folks in the trailer park. “I have a lot to say, and I might as well say it to everyone. Any idea what time it is?”

“Maybe midnight? I don’t know. It’s got to be at least ten.”

Andy frowned. Was that possible? Had he run so far? Had all that fighting and killing taken that long? How long had he hidden in the shadows, watching and waiting? It didn’t seem that long to him. “Well, shit, will you help me go around and gather the folks who are awake? I don’t want to start hollering. I mean, you know, I’m sure some kids are sleeping.”

Lucy nodded immediately. “Yes. I’ll get Bernice first. She’ll help.”

“Cool. Um”—he pointed to the packs—“just leave these here for now. They’re mostly full of food and some camping gear.” He picked up his spear and the staff. “I’ll get James first, then go around and help gather folks. Let’s meet in the dog park.”

“Okay.” She reached up and pulled her hair back into a ponytail, using a scrunchy she had around her wrist to hold it in place. “I’m glad you’re back, Andy.”

He smiled as he tilted his head forward to wipe sweat dripping down his brow on his shoulder, letting the T-shirt fabric soak it up. “Me too.”

She nodded, maybe a little awkwardly, then turned and walked over to Bernice’s trailer. Andy paused there for a minute. He leaned forward, lifting his water skin and gently drizzling some of the contents onto his sweat- and blood-soaked hair before letting it run down over his forehead. Gingerly, he wiped the watery blood off his face with his T-shirt before shifting the water skin to his lips and gulping down a few mouthfuls.

Feeling a little better, he jogged down the central lane, angling toward James’s trailer. When he arrived, he saw that one of the back windows was aglow with light, so he walked over to it and tapped on the glass. The older man appeared almost immediately, his eyes wide as he peered out. When he saw Andy, he waved toward the door and disappeared.

When Andy reached the door, James flung it open and stepped down to stand before him. “Hey, kid!” His eyes drifted toward the staff he was holding. “What you got there?”

Andy chuckled. “I got this staff off a guy who tried to kill me. It feels like good wood, but I’m not sure. You think it’ll make a good spear haft?” He handed it to him.

James grinned, hefting the pole, turning it left and right. “I’m not a wood expert, but this is much better than that shovel handle. Want me to fix it up for you? I should shave it down a little and smooth it out.”

“Yeah, that’d be awesome.” Andy handed over his spear. “You’ll put the spearhead on it?”

“Naturally, buddy. That why you came over?”

“Uh, no. I’ve got some news, and it’s a little time-sensitive. Come on over to the dog park, would you? I’m gonna gather everyone else who’s awake.”

James nodded, shifting the two weapons to his shoulder. “I’ll put these in my workshop, then head over.”

Andy stood there, his mind struggling to find more words as James stared at him questioningly. After a moment, the older man put a hand on his shoulder and asked, “You good, young blood?”

The casual show of support bolstered Andy, and he smiled, nodding. “Yeah, I’m good. See you in a few minutes.” With that, he then turned and jogged over to Monique’s trailer. He told her the news, then went door to door, visiting any trailers with any hint of activity—a candle burning, a fire in the barbeque grill, a door open to allow in the evening breeze, or the soft murmur of conversation in the strange silence of the world now that electricity and vehicles weren’t ubiquitous. When he returned to the dog park, a good-sized group of residents was making its way up the central lane.

Eduardo was there ahead of him, and he’d set up a butane camp lantern, hanging it off a bracket he’d hooked to a long-abandoned tetherball post. Andy moved to stand by him, smiling when he saw Lucy approaching as well. Standing near the light, Andy turned to face the people gathering, looking from face to face, trying to make eye contact and nod to as many as he could. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt like he wanted these people to like him, and he also felt like he was about to upset many of them.

When nearly thirty people were there, and he didn’t see any others approaching, he held up his hand and cleared his throat, raising his voice just a little. “Hey, everyone, listen up, please.” It was surprising and a little strange how quickly they quieted down. Standing there under the dark sky, in the bright, hissing light of the butane lamp, Andy felt very strange but oddly comfortable having all those eyes on him.

“What is it? What’s going on?” a woman Andy only knew as Miriam asked. He thought, but he wasn’t sure, that she was a teacher—an out-of-work teacher. He couldn’t remember her story.

“Tonight,” Andy said, his voice loud and firm, “I ran into four men in the desert, and I had to kill them.”