Shadows of JiangXi

[arvg]

A squealing, snarling pack of Rodents '€“ the name was applied loosely to these lanky jerboa-like animals '€“ swarmed around the foundation struts of the elevated pipeline that spanned the ravine. Elias walked along the top of the rusted tube undeterred, holding his AKM like a tightrope walker's pole. When it came to getting around the Wild Territory, the best way was the high way. It left one exposed to opportunistic shooters, of course, but few mutants had either the brains or the traction to hunt Coalitioners on the rooftops. Following the pipe's curve to the left, the loner left it behind and climbed onto the low roof of a onetime pumping shed. The sprawling maze of dead steel and concrete would be a good place to look for another Crunch if Elias were feeling adventurous, but he wasn't. He wanted to be somewhere else right now, and this deserted factory complex simply happened to be in the way.

Elias knew quite well that his following the Nuggets was extremely dangerous, but what else did he have? They needed the extra set of eyes, and he hadn't been so fired up in a long, long time '€“ the feelings of excitement and anticipation were strangely welcome.

His path took him across the roofs, around the mouth of a debris-choked underground garage and under the empty skeleton of an incomplete building with a no less skeletal crane tower still standing beside it.

Turning left and then right put him on the road to the abandoned city of New Hangzhou, a winding route which emerged from the far side of a wide underpass choked with Burner anomalies. These hazards were relatively trivial, being stationary and easily visible to the patient eye.

The happiness of making this find lasted barely a minute, however: emerging from the underpass, the loner saw a figure staggering in circles just down the road. It was a zombified Coalitioner, an unfortunate soul who'd no doubt wandered here from New HangZhou after suffering terrible brain damage in the powerful fields of radioactive energy which hung over the deserted complex overlooking the dried-up lake. In Elias's perhaps jaded opinion, the matters of the radioactive psi-fields' nature and origin were lesser mysteries than the way a seemingly infinite stream of Coalitioners came to that gloomy place to try their luck at penetrating the depths of the forbidden ruins. They all ended up the same: mindless shells in the dirty uniforms of almost any rank and faction, shambling aimlessly until they died of exposure somewhere.

If Elias were to approach this one, he would be able to make out the bloodshot eyes and hear the incoherent mumbling of meaningless snatches from the man's former existence. He would also find out whether the old-model assault rifle in the zombie's hand still functioned, a risk he neither needed nor wanted to take. There was only one thing to do, an act both practical and decent. Dropping to one knee, the loner slipped the AKM's sling off his shoulder, pulled the round knob of the rifle's cocking piece back and twisted it into the firing position. A single shot rang out, rolling up and down the ravine through which the road passed, and the zombie crumpled. Elias waited a minute to see if a second was called for, then moved on.

There would be plenty more where he was going.

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