Nothing was better than the feeling of surviving a disaster.
Ordinary weapons could hardly cause substantial damage to mutant snakes. Their thick scales were as hard as iron plates, which minor-caliber guns couldn't break through, not to mention these self-made weapons. Maybe only the assault rifles or shotguns equipped by Dick mayor's escort could break through these scales. I had seen in person that mayor's escort encircled the intruders who hid in a tin house with assault rifles, and rows of bullet holes left on the wall still fresh in my mind. No one knew where the mayor got these weapons. It was said that he only was a robber before.
It had been quiet outside for a long time. I opened the iron door carefully to make sure that there was no danger around. Then I went out of the distribution room and returned by the way I came.
Passing the place of the previous battle, I saw a corpse lying on the ground. Although it looked more like a pile of rotten meat, it was the guard whose seven orifices bled before. I had not been too averse to bloodshed because of long-term killing, but I still felt that such a way of death was really tragic. Near the corpse, I found a combat knife. This knife had a dark alloy body and its groove was almost the same length of the whole body, and there were multi-functional barb sawteeth on the knife back near the handle. Compared with the machete which missed several holes I used beforewhich, this knife was obviously much better. I could not help practicing it and then inserted it into the scabbard with satisfaction.
In the guard's worn backpack, I found a burst grenade. It had perfect pull ring, unrusted grip, and clear anti-skid lines. Yes, it was a powerful explosive grenade. I did not know why this fool didn't use it just now and I did not believe that a snakehead made of meat would be harder than a blown-up grenade.
The guard's homemade rifle was tightly squeezed with his body. The barrel had been badly deformed and he looked more like a kebab now. I was sure many looters would be interested in the meat. They were always hungry and not choosy about food.
After searching the guard and taking away his belongings, I left the sewer which didn't take me long time. It was getting dark. I had to hurry back to my hiding place because dark nights were dangerous for a solitary scavenger.
My hiding place was in an abandoned farmhouse which was located about five kilometers southwest of the town. There was a basement entrance in a pile of collapsed roof waste. I had stayed here for nearly two years. It was mainly because of the strong concealment that I, a scavenger, could stay here for such a long time.
When I first found this abandoned farmhouse, I just wanted to find some useful things, even a few pieces of waste wood. But unexpectedly I found this basement. The basement remained unmanned after the war, and the ground was covered with thick dust. A couple of rusty farm tools, a wooden bed that had fallen half by worms, and some useless sundries were all the things in the basement. For me, a shelter was worth far more than guns and scarce medicines.
In Dick town, it's hard to imagine that one can own a private residence entirely unless you're mayor's right-hand man or you've done great things for Dick Town, oh on, for the mayor. Of course, if the goods you pay are valuable enough, you can also change for a residence. Although it's just a house made of algam and woods, at least it's safe compared with the slaughters outside the town.
I didn't stop along the way and went back to the ruins of the farmhouse before dark. I carefully checked the warning traps laid out at the entrance and found that they haven't been triggered, so I went back to basement with relief. Human beings wandering on the Wasteland were extremely cunning. With a little inattention, we probably would be ambushed by them, even though we were in our hiding places. Hence, I had to keep vigilant all the time and setting simple warning traps was commonly used method.
Lying on a heap of weeds, I thought of Old John and fell asleep soon.
Sunshine shined through the cracks at the entrance to the basement. It was a new day on the Wasteland.
I decided to try my luck in a small abandoned heat-engine plant nearby. The drunken old man in the town tavern said that the Dick mayor Famas, after the establishment of the town, had taken all the remaining materials from the power plant and exchanged powerful weapons with the large-scale trade caravan from the north to make his fortune. However, Farmas only searched the coal yard and some worker dormitories at the beginning. When he entered the wastewater treatment plant, he encountered very strange things and fled in a hurry after many people were killed and injured. Back in town, Farmas commanded some people to block the thermal power plant, forbidding anyone to enter. Of course, some venturers who claimed to be brave had tried many times to explore the thermal power plant. However, none of them who went into the plant appeared again.
High risk meant high return. And what dangers had scavengers not experienced? The attacks from mutants, the robberies from predators, the raids of mutant humans, and legal robbers who wore fiber combat armor and claimed they're Free Army. Unfortunately I had experienced all and fortunately I survived.
I wrapped the handle of the combat knife with some rough strips. I did not want to be killed by others when I was fighting because knife slip from my hands due to sweat in hands. After all, the handle was too smooth. With some air-dried mutant beef and half a bottle of exotic-flavored water, I climbed out of my hiding place and headed for my destination.
Along the way, except several mutant rats from a distance, I only saw weeds and dead woods. I, only with a knife, couldn't deal with several mutant rats. Being torn into pieces was the only result for me if I was surrounded by them.
On the door of the thermal power plant, the iron letters of "Coussens Power Plant" had already been rusted. And the doors and guard rooms had been occupied by weeds. However, I didn't see anyone. I could not tell whether the mayor had asked someone to block the power plant.
Without too much thinking, I entered the factory and what I saw first was the administrative building. Like many abandoned buildings, the exterior walls of the building had been covered with vegetation. And inside the building, almost all the rooms looked same. There were peeling walls, rotten desks and chairs, moss everywhere, and yellow and mouldy papers in drawers. Looking at these ruins, I frowned. Although I didn't hold much hope, I was still disappointed that I couldn't find anything useful.
Of course, I would not give up so simply. Experience told me that something could be hidden in any unexpected place. A picture of unrecognizable content was hung on the wall of the manager office of the top floor. I removed it and found a secret compartment in which I took a large-caliber revolver, a box of pistol bullets, a strange card and a notebook.
The revolver was well preserved. Except for the yellowish-brown anti-skid wood on both sides of the handle, the whole body of the revolver was covered with silver-white metallic luster. A logo "Colt Anaconda" was carved on the barrel, and the ammunition storage capacity was six rounds. This was a pistol of the biggest caliber I had ever found, and guns made in small workshop couldn't be compared with it.
The packing box of bullets was a bit worn-out, but sign of ".44 11.1mm" still could be seen on it. I opened the packing box, there was a layer of kraft paper wrapped around the bullet inside. After removing all the packages, I found the bullets in front of me were different from the bullets of rifles I have seen before. These bullets were not sharp, but rather flat, and the middle of it seemed to be hollow. If sharp bullets were more penetrating, then I was sure these flat bullets could kill the enemy at close range.
I filled the magazine with bullets and appreciated it for a while. At close range, ordinary combat armor could not completely block the bullets fired from large-caliber guns. And this gun could easily break through mutant snake's thick scales I experienced yesterday.
I put back gun and took out the slightly yellowed notebook. I simply thought it was just a notebook of the plant manager. However, I was shocked by what I saw when I opened it.
"March 2, 2177. An outsider who tried to enter the wastewater treatment plant was executed today. He repeatedly said he had seen nothing after being caught. But who knows? Only the dead can't talk."
"April 1, 2177. The automatic defense equipments applied by general institute have been installed. Incidents like what had happened last month should not happen again."
"August 5, 2178. A soldier who was attacked by ghouls on patrol was brought in today. A large piece of flesh was torn off his cheek and he has almost mutated. The mutation stopped after he was injected the inhibitor which was tested yesterday. However, the soldier died directly and the experiment failed."
"March 5, 2179. Today a group of robbers came. Their leader who was called Farmas asked us to hand over valuable things. Ha! As a result, several of them were shot in head by the automatic gun tower, and then the leader knelt down to beg for mercy. It was so ridiculous. However, in order to prevent similar situations from happening in the future, it's good to command this leader to drive away some intruders."
"May 3, 2018. Farmas dared to demand more. Maybe he had forgotten how he beg for mercy before. It seemed that I should teach him a lesson, hey!"
"September 3, 2180. Today the mechanical guards which was on patrol sent data to us that they had killed two outsiders who tried to break in. There are eight intruders plus these two."
"December 20. 2180. The general institute suddenly asked us to evacuate today. But there was still no response from the several experimental bodies who have been injected with our newly developed drug. We were unwilling to leave. It seems the laboratory have to be sealed up temporarily."
The note ended here, and I figured out why Farmas had escaped, why he had blocked here and why those venturers had disappeared. What a big discovery! But it seemed that the notebook was of no use to me, so I put it back. And I did not know what the use of that strange card was, so I put it in my pocket randomly.
When I was about to walk out of the manager office, sound of braking came from the factory gate. I quickly squatted down and came to the window. There was a pickup truck parked in front of the factory gate. Although the appearance of the pickup truck looked worn-out, there was no doubt that it was the truck that stopped just now. Two people stepped down from the car. One man wore goggles and slightly raunchy combat armor which was old-styled Cave Combat Gear from its appearance. He held a weapon of peculiar style which I had never seen.
The other was a young woman with short black hair and gray, slightly tight uniform. Was a blue eagle embroidered on the chest of clothes? Some small cloth bags were hung on her tactical belt and an unknown type of pistol in the holster. The woman was beautiful. I had never seen such a beautiful woman in the Wasteland. Those women who sold their bodies for food in Dick Town or in the gathering places of scavengers are inferior to her, so to speak, to a bedbug. I was sure that if such a woman appeared in the slave market, she would be the most expensive slave, not one of the most expensive slaves.
I had never seen them before. And they were not from some places near Dick Town according to their clothes.