Tales of the Wastelander Ch. 46 - Teaser (Patreon)

Behind them rode Ben, perched high on Goliath’s saddle. The massive Thunderer moved with a low, thudding grace—each hoofstep muffled by the loamy earth that had overtaken the old asphalt. Ben’s eyes swept the landscape, his fingers resting lightly on the grip of his compound bow. The weapon was a relic of the old world—military grade, perfectly tuned, with a smooth pull and a digital scope module that flickered faintly with blue light. On horseback, he had the high ground—scouting, watching for the twitch of movement, the shine of infected eyes.

Ben wasn’t just watching for Screamers. He was watching for traps, for signs of movement that didn’t follow the usual pattern. He remembered A Quiet Place 2, and the gang that had learned to steal in silence—using the fear of monsters as a cover. It was fiction, sure, but after everything he’d seen, he’d learned not to dismiss stories too easily. ‘If you can imagine it,’ he’d once told Mellany, ‘it can happen.’ And Ben didn’t take chances—not anymore.

Farther behind came Byrgyt, bringing up the rear. Like her cousin, she favored the spear—a sturdy thing, hand-forged and wickedly barbed. Her long braid swayed behind her as she moved, her red eyes narrowed, alert for anything creeping up behind. She didn’t talk much, but when she did, she had Ylva’s bluntness with a dash of dry wit.

Bellona moved along as well, doing what she could with her abilities, but Screamers were different from regular people. She often said that they were more difficult to sense, which Ben chalked up to reduced mental capacity. He didn’t pretend to understand Bellona’s abilities, but his guesswork was holding well enough. Though the closer they were to the beasts, the easier Bellona could detect them.

Off the main road, hidden just out of sight, were the carts. Byanka, Rayne, and Mellany waited there, watching the treeline and ruin with weapons at the ready. They weren’t far—maybe two hundred yards—but they’d hung back in case something went wrong. The carts would need to be moved quickly if they had to fall back, and the trio had made a small game out of being the last line of defense. Mellany especially had taken to her new crossbow like a woman reborn.

As the group pushed deeper into what had once been North Towne, the buildings started getting closer together. Cracked parking lots gave way to collapsed plazas, and windblown signage creaked overhead, their logos faded to ghosts. An old movie theater leaned at an odd angle, its marquee still bearing the words ‘Now Showing: Fast 12 – The Last Ride.’ Ben gave it a passing glance, lips twitching in a half-smile.

The moaning started low. It was faint. Not close, but not far either. A chorus of Screamers somewhere ahead, maybe tucked behind the wreckage of an old strip mall or inside the rotting husk of a warehouse. Stragglers still roamed, and the ones they did see were dealt with quickly—an arrow to the skull here, a spear-thrust through the face there. Quiet kills with no screams or war cries, just clean, surgical kills.

Ylva held up a hand, crouching beside a rusted-out sedan. She sniffed the air. “They’re close,” she murmured to Zandyr, who nodded.

“Not that close,” Bellona whispered as loudly as she dared. “But close enough where they might become trouble, if we make too much noise.”

Ben steered Goliath to a stop and dismounted silently. “We keep moving, no noise. If they’re dormant, we keep them that way.”

Zandyr looked back at him. “You think there are… others?”

“I don’t know,” Ben said hesitantly. “Probably not, but this city’s been left alone for a reason. Remember, we’re not here to clear it—we’re just thinning the herd. Giving travelers a fighting chance to pass through without losing their lives.”

Zandyr grunted, “I don’t like it. But I like doing nothing even less.”

“Same,” said Byrgyt. “We don’t need to clear it all. Just enough.”

“Then we move street by street,” Ben said. “Quick and clean.”

“And if I say we move to another street, we move to another street. Understood?” Bellona asked, glancing around the group.

“Yes, ma’am!” Ben nodded as he reached up and patted Goliath’s flank. The beast huffed, muscles rippling under its thick hide. Ahead, the moaning deepened and whatever haunted Toledo was waiting for them.

“Let’s get to work,” Ben said, nocking an arrow.