Tales of the Wastelander Ch. 07

"That is correct. In fact, it wasn't just Lawrie, Mellany and Tasya who helped, but these two here who stand with us!" Denys stated.

"Hmm. A Pinkskin! Will wonders never cease? What is your name, young man?" the mayor questioned Ben.

"Benjamin Lopez, Mayor Stonehand," Ben told the man.

"Ylva, of the Dark Valley," she said to the man.

"Dark Valley? You are a long way from home! What brings you this far north?" the mayor inquired.

"Slavers took my cousin. They came this way but avoided your town. I'm still looking for them and Byrgyt," she replied.

"Ah! I see! And you, young man? How did you get this far north?" Stonehand wondered.

Ben looked up at Lawrie and he shrugged, leaving it up to Ben. Nodding, Ben stepped forward and told the truth of who he was and why he was there. The mayor's eyes widened at being told of what happened with the slavers, and on how he took down a pack Alpha. Denys vouched for Ben's fighting prowess, having seen Ben in action directly and how deadly he was with a bow.

"So, I came here with Lawrie this morning, thinking maybe I could be of assistance with the trouble you're having," Ben finished.

"Any help we can get right now would be a blessing!" Stonehand breathed, relief creasing his features.

"Things have gotten that bad, Arlon?" Lawrie asked.

"Far worse than we could have imagined, Lawrie. It wasn't too long after you, Mellany and Tasya left on your expedition that it started. Raiders began harassing homesteads right after the first melt. It was a few groups that were easily driven off at first, but they've grown bolder since. Many people have been driven from their homes here to the town. Most who stayed to fight back are dead or missing," Mayor Stonehand told them.

"How long?" Lawrie asked.

"It's been this way for the last couple of months. The mine where we get our iron had been abandoned because of these attacks. The militia haven't been enough to deter these attacks, which has choked off our iron supply. On top of that, our smith was killed a week ago and his apprentice hasn't been able to keep up with the orders. And Jorge's work isn't the same quality as Tom's was," Arlon stated sadly.

"Haven't you tried sending for help?" Ben wondered.

"We have, but our riders keep getting intercepted by these raiders. The men are sent back, headless. The women... I dread what has become of them," Arlon Stonehand shuddered.

"How's the food situation holding out? Surely the raiders haven't starved you out yet," Lawrie asked.

"Though we are all right for the moment, our reserves are dwindling. We have at most, two months' worth left, and I'm afraid that we will have to ration what we have," the mayor stated regretfully.

"Maybe I can help with your problem," Ben offered.

"How do you mean, help us? We've tried to find what help we could, but everyone who can help fights in the militia," Mayor Stonehand stated.

"I'm thinking about something else as a means of helping. You said that any riders you've sent keep getting intercepted? Do you always send them along the same road?" Ben wondered.

"Yes, why?"

"It sounds to me that the raiders have set some sort of trap to take down your riders. Whatever the trap is, my thought is for someone to ride out and spring the trap. That way, they no longer have the chance to stop riders from getting through," Ben told him.

"I assume you have a plan?" Stonehand asked, leaning forward.

"Yeah. The thought is for myself, Ylva and whatever militia to go out and to draw out whatever men the raiders have in place. If we can draw them out, maybe we can overpower them long enough to get a rider through," Ben suggested.

"It is a good plan, but I'm afraid that you and Ylva will be on your own. I cannot spare the numbers to go out and aid you. We need every available man and woman holding the walls, in case another attack comes," Stonehand told them.

"Is it really that bad, Denys?" Lawrie wondered.

"The militia is down to less than half strength, with most of our number too wounded to fight. Some may not be able to fight again, because their wounds are so serious," Denys replied sadly.

"What do you think, Ylva? Just you and me, taking on marauding raiders?" Ben asked.

"If you think you can even the fighting odds with that bow of yours, I'm willing to go!" Ylva replied with a smirk on her face.

"What say you, Mayor Stonehand? Are you willing to accept our help?" Ben asked. The man sat there for a moment, contemplating, before giving his answer.

"At this point, I will accept whatever help I can get. If you think you can help us and get a rider through to fetch help, then I'll take it!" the man replied with hope in his voice.

"Then let's get to work!" Denys replied.

The quartet left, heading back to the inn where Ylva and Ben had stored their gear. Ben fetched his bow, arrows and machete, while Ylva grabbed her spear and the Bloodthirster's axe. She donned the leather armor she had taken from the slavers and helped Ben with his. There wasn't much that would fit him, but they had adjusted some of the pieces they salvaged during their journey there.

Once they were outfitted, they left the inn and found Denys waiting for them. He held the reins to two Thunderers, telling the pair that these were the fastest and sturdiest animals he had. There was only one faster, and that was for a rider he was readying, hoping they succeeded in their mission. Ben thanked him for the animals and mounted one, finding the saddle large, but cozy enough.

"If we succeed, I'll launch an arrow of fire into the air. Should you see it, then you'll know that we were successful and you can send the rider," Ben told the captain of the guard.

"If we don't see it?"

"Then we're dead and you should refrain from sending him," Ben instructed.

"Good luck," Denys smiled as he walked with them to the south gate. He had the gates opened and both Ylva and Ben trotted out on their Thunderers, anxious, but ready to get the job done.

The pair quickly left the town behind them, not saying a word as they moved along. They watched the road, but also kept a wary eye out for anything in the forest or the trees that looked out of place. So far, they'd seen nothing, but kept a wary eye on everything. Ben felt the road dip slightly as it curved, putting the town completely out of sight. He then smelled something... rank and... familiar, before he spotted something.

"Ylva, hold up," he called out quietly.

"What is it, Ben?" she asked, reining her Thunderer to stop.

"Did it rain last night?" Ben wondered.

"Not a drop. Why?" Ylva queried.

"Then what is that, right ahead of us?" he asked, pointing.

Ylva followed his finger to a large puddle, maybe fifty meters in front of them. It was sizable enough to encompass the whole road and sat there like the most natural thing in the world.

"A puddle. So what?" she asked.

"You don't smell that? That... chemical stench?" Ben questioned.

"Chemical?" she asked, puzzled.

"You have a flint?" Ben asked.

"Yes."

"Hand it to me. I have an idea," he told her.

Ben dismounted and took the flint from her, before kneeling as he pulled out an unlit torch. He struck at it before the spark caught, igniting the torch, and he held it up. Ylva was going to ask what Ben was up to when he threw the torch at the puddle. She was about to berate him for throwing a torch in the water when the whole puddle went up in flames. The blaze was enough to have the Thunderers dance nervously, but they kept their cool.

"I think we know just how the riders got spooked or scared, if that was there," Ben told her as he got back into the saddle. Just then, they heard loud cries of anger and wheeled their mounts around. No less than six mutant men were rushing at them, with weapons drawn and snarls on their faces.

Without a word, Ben snatched an arrow from his quiver and fired as Ylva charged, raising her spear. Three of the men were dropped by Ben's arrows, one in the eye, another in the throat, while the third took one in the mouth. Ben stopped firing as Ylva closed the distance, trampling one man while skewering another, who tried to cut at her with an enormous axe.

The last man looked at the both of them, terrified, and he tried to run. Ben put two arrows in his back, just as Ylva reached him, lopping his head off. Ben heard more shouts and turned in time to see another six men break out of the forest just in front of the fire. He brought his bow around and launched two more arrows, killing two more men.

Seeing how the remaining four were too close, Ben slung his bow, drew his machete, and charged. One man tried jumping at him, but with a swing of his machete, Ben caught the man in the face. Screaming, he went down in a heap, out of the fight. One man lit a large torch from the road flames and waved it up in front of Ben's Thunderer.

The fire spooked the horse, and it reared, nearly tossing Ben from his seat, but he held on. The beast landed back on its feet, but not before it kicked torch boy in the face, sending him flying back into the flames. He screamed in agony and Ben turned his attention to the remaining three men, when he felt rough hands drag him out of the saddle.

Ben hit the dirt hard, but swung out with his machete, forcing the men back. He whirled to his feet and found himself surrounded by the men. They waved cruel looking weapons, which weren't made to just cut, but to invoke grisly thoughts for whoever was looking at them.

"Never thought a Pinkskin would give us so much trouble! Maybe we should gut you, put you on a spit and roast you while you're alive," one man sneered.

"I wouldn't worry about me if I were you. Right now I'm the least of your problems," Ben snickered.

"Huh?" the talker grunted before the four of them heard the thunder of hooves.

Turning, the three men saw Ylva charge in, hurling her spear, catching the talker dead center in the chest. The shock of the action was when Ben acted, cutting hard at one man, catching him in the neck. He almost squawked a warning, but with half his neck opened up, he only gagged and gasped as his lifeblood spilled out of him. The remaining man lunged at Ben, knocking the machete from his grip.

Ben didn't focus on his lost weapon, but on avoiding getting his throat cut from the remaining raider. He drew from his martial arts training to dip, dodge, and avoid getting hit. Ben could tell this was infuriating the raider, as the man's face was contorted in pure rage with each time he missed.

He was so focused on Ben that he didn't see or hear Ylva walking up behind him until she had already driven her spear through his back. He screamed as he saw the spear tip erupt from his chest and collapsed the moment she withdrew her weapon. Ben sighed and mopped his brow from the load of sweat that had poured from his face.

"Took you long enough!" Ben griped.

"Not my fault that my spear caught on the bastard's bones!" Ylva shot back, but she smirked all the same.

"Regardless, thanks for not letting me join these assholes on the ground," Ben thanked.

"You're welcome! Now what?"

"Now, we send the signal," Ben told her.

He then retrieved one of his arrows, wrapping the head up in a strip of cloth he tore from one of the dead raiders. He dipped it in the burning oil puddle, aimed it skyward, and loosed. The arrow screamed upwards, its light visible in the overcast sky. Seeing as how they had little recourse but to wait, the pair of them moved a few dozen meters back away from the flames.

A few minutes later, they heard the clatter of hooves and looked in their direction. They saw the rider that Denys had ready, charging his way to them. He drew on the reins of his Thunderer, slowing the animal down as he drew closer. He stared at the surrounding carnage, mouth agape at the amount of raiders that lie dead.

"How did you... did you two..." the rider stuttered.

"Yup. I hope this means you have a clear shot at making it to the next town!" Ben told him.

"The way is... clear?" the rider asked, looking fearful.

"It should be. I mean, twelve men stationed here just to stop riders from getting through? It's more than a little overkill, if you ask me. I doubt they expected anyone to get past them here, so the way ahead should be safe," Ben told him.

"Still, be careful. Ride as hard as you can until sundown. If no one is following you by then, then no one else should be further along the road," Ylva told him.

"Thank you! I will do what I can to get help! With any luck, I should be back in four days!" the rider promised, before he spurred his animal past the pool of oil, which had petered out mostly. The rider stayed in their line of sight until he rounded the bend in the distance.

"If twelve men were sitting here, waiting for riders to happen by, odds are they have a camp somewhere nearby," Ben surmised.

"I agree. But any ideas in which direction we should go?" Ylva wondered.

"Maybe the way they came at us? Or do you think that's too obvious?" Ben asked.

Ylva opened her mouth to say something, when the two of them heard a loud groan. Their heads whipped over to the source of the sound, and saw that it was one of the raiders, who was still alive. The pair of them walked over to the man and turned him onto his back. The cut to his face that Ben had given the man was bad, nearly enough to kill him, but just shy of finishing the job.

"Tell us what we want to know, and we'll ease your passing to the next life," Ben told him, kneeling by the man's head.

"C... c... camp... p?" the man stuttered.

"Which way?" Ylva growled. The man raised a shaking hand, pointing westward, as opposed to the easterly direction from which they attacked.

"How do we know you're not lying to us?" Ben asked.

"S... ss... moke..." the man gasped, and Ben looked up and squinted. He really had to focus, but he saw a small, telltale column of smoke, heading up over the trees. He then looked up at Ylva, who cocked an eyebrow, and Ben nodded. She then drove her spear into the man's neck, ending his life.

"How did you want to approach this?" Ylva asked.

"As quietly as possible. I'm guessing they'll have left a sentry or two mucking around, in case they have prisoners," Ben guessed.

"All right. You lead, I'll follow," Ylva told him.

Without further argument, the two of them tied up their animals nearby and vanished into the forest, making as little noise as possible. Ben and Ylva had little trouble navigating the way through, as there was enough space to move and enough light to see. It took them the better part of an hour, but they finally heard sounds they didn't associate with the forest. They heard squealing and yelling, like someone was in distress.

Slowing down their pace, the pair crept up on the source of the sound and ran right into a sentry. He was just as surprised to see them as they were at him, but Ylva acted without hesitation. She brought up her spear and drove it through his chest, skewering his heart instantly. He gasped and gurgled, like he was trying to say something, but failed. He then slumped forward, dead as the light left his eyes.

Ben helped Ylva with bringing him down as gently as possible, so they wouldn't be heard. Once he was on the ground, they pressed further in and found the camp. There were at least a dozen small tents, two carts, a large fire pit, where a fire was cooking something that smelled like stew, and several enormous cages. The cages were rudimentary, but well put together, holding at least three dozen people, some adults and many of them children.

Ben and Ylva scanned the immediate area and found no additional sentries, but heard the slapping sound of flesh on flesh. They scooted closer and found one final raider in the camp who was occupied trying to rape a woman. His massive cock hung out, throbbing like he wanted to use it on the woman in front of him.

The woman in question wore a torn dress, much in the style that Mellany wore and was trying to defend herself. On her face was a large handprint, darker than the rest of her lime green skin. She was lying on the ground, with one hand raised and balled into a fist, and she wore a stern look. The man scoffed and advanced on her, his dick wagging as he moved.

Ylva growled like she wanted to throttle the man, but Ben rushed in and hit him in the back with a jump kick. The hit wasn't enough to hurt the man, but it was enough to knock him off his feet and send him face first into the fire. He screamed as his hair caught fire, and he scrambled out as fast as he could. He howled in agony, clutching at his burned face, before he removed his hands to stare at his assailant.

Ben moved quickly, executing a sweep kick at his knee, hitting it hard enough where you could hear his knee pop. The raider screamed in pain, falling to his knees as he yowled in despair. His screams were cut short when Ben kicked again. This time, it was a vicious roundhouse, which snapped the man's neck, killing him instantly. Ben growled at the remains of the would be rapist, glad to have stopped the bastard in time.

"Show off," Ylva stated, walking up to the camp out of the forest. "You could have used an arrow on the guy, and it would have been just as effective."

"First off, I didn't want to risk him moving at the last second and accidentally hit someone in the cages. Secondly, do you know how much of a bitch it is trying to pull arrows out of these bastards?" he asked.

"Fair enough. Hey, don't worry, we're here to help you," Ylva told the woman gently.

Taking a hesitant breath, the woman reached out tentatively and took Ylva's outstretched hand. Seeing how this wasn't a trick, she then stood with Ylva's help while Ben went over to the cages, opening them. The people inside were skeptical of what was happening but didn't fuss too much that a Pinkskin was helping them. They slowly filed out, glad to be freed from their confinement.

"What happened here? Where are all of you from?" Ylva asked.

"We're families from the outlying farms," an older man answered. "These raiders attacked our homes, trying to drive us off. Many of us fought back, but anyone who did was killed without a second thought. They rounded us up and brought us here, so we wouldn't warn the town of what was happening."

"Is the town still standing?" the woman asked Ylva, still a little shaken from her ordeal.

"It is. We met with the mayor, and he told us what was happening. We volunteered to help, as we are looking to leave the area," Ben told her, catching her attention.

"Leave? No one leaves. Not with the guards they have at the road, killing or capturing any riders," the man told them.

"Not anymore. We killed them, all twelve of them," Ylva told the man, whose eyes widened in surprise.

"You killed them all? Yourself?" he asked, shocked by what he was hearing.

"Not all of them. I got six, and Ben put down five of them," Ylva stated.

"Wait a second, I got six!" Ben argued.

"The one that went into the fire belongs to the Thunderer," Ylva smirked.

"Bah! That's a technicality!" Ben griped, knowing she was right.

"Maybe you two could argue about this somewhere else?" the man asked.

"Fair enough. We should get out of here, but let's take everything that's not nailed down. Lord knows we could use everything here more than a bunch of dead men," Ben agreed.

Though some adults found the idea distasteful, they knew that being pragmatic was what would save them. They took down everything, loading the carts with what was there, while Ben and Ylva found a quartet of Thunderers, hobbled nearby. They hooked the beasts up to the carts before they pushed on, leaving behind little more than a clearing behind them.

While they were on their way, one of the adults took charge of the stew that was cooking and passed it out among everyone. The stew was a little foul, but no one was complaining, most of them having had empty bellies for days. The day wore on to almost noon by the time they reached the road. It was a sight that many of the people there were happy to see, as it meant that getting to town was within reach.