Dead Man Walking: Living By Day, Dead By Night -
Chapter 173: The Remnant
In another part of the country there lie a large subterranean complex. One that dwarfed the size of the bunker that Zane and the girls resided in. Not only in terms of scale, but fortification as well. To build such an extensive and self-sustaining complex, one would either need to be the wealthiest man on the planet, or funded by the state itself.
This was one of many such facilities that had been built across the continental United States by the Federal Government. And it housed thousands of people within it. Some of these men were soldiers, others were politicians, and a few were even doctors or scientists.
Regardless, this complex was built for a single purpose the continuation of the United States Federal Government even after an apocalyptic scenario had befallen the human Race and the Earth as a whole. And that is exactly what happened a few months prior.
Currently, within this bunker complex, there were scientists within a room looking down upon the surface of the Earth via satellite imagery. Within this room were thirty or so technicians who specialized in this very area.
These men were currently talking with one another regarding the team they had sent to the ruins of Carson City, Nevada, the former capital of the State. Which was precisely where Zane now resided.
"Our team should be arriving at their destination shortly. Can somebody please replace them with the fucking satellite?"
As the technicians squabbled among themselves there were two men standing above their stations watching the monitors which displayed both a bird's-eye view of the settlement of Gravestone, as well as a series of black screens which had just moments before displayed the body cams of the soldiers sent to investigate the settlement that had popped up over the Governor's personal bunker.
These two men in black suits whispered to one another about what they suspected to be going on at this very moment halfway across the country within the ruins of Carson City.
"You don't really think that Frank was killed by civilians, do you?"
The other man remained silent for some time. He was clearly much older than his counterpart, with snow white hair and a wrinkled face. It was almost as if he was contemplating the images he had seen of the walls surrounding Gravestone prior to the cameras going black. He then sighed heavily before speaking his mind on the matter.
I would say with almost near certainty that this is the case. Look at those walls… What does that lustrous black metal remind you of?"
The man who said this was the director of this specific bunker complex, and the younger man who he was speaking to was his personal aide. The aide remained silent for some time as he further reflected on the images of Gravestone's walls prior to the cameras going black.
When he realized exactly what the director was hinting at, the man rested his head in his hands and sighed heavily before speaking his thoughts aloud.
"Stygian Iron…"
The director nodded his head in agreement with his aide's conclusion before revealing his own thoughts on how this was simple proof that Frank was dead and had likely been so for some time.
"That's right. Though Frank had the foresight to build his own bunker complex, he was a deeply cowardly man. There is no way he would ever authorize the people who accompanied him to leave the bunker until we had given him the clear….
Which means he and his guests would have never discovered blood crystals, nor awakened the mysterious system which has been our lifeline in this apocalyptic wasteland. If that's the case, then these walls should not be made of Stygian Iron, no?
The only logical conclusion is that a group of wasteland outlaws broke into the bunker, probably via the skills they unlocked, where they claimed its resources and sanctuary for themselves. This settlement is the result of their expansion.
Which is a pity… Because is pitiful as Frank was, he was useful for the President's plans… What I don't understand is why our soldiers have suddenly gone dark. You don't think the outlaws killed them, did you?"
The aide shook his head while looking up at the screens once more. Right now, their only view of the situation was the satellite imagery, but that could not adequately explain what had happened to the reconnaissance team they sent to investigate Gravestone and its population.
However, the Aide quickly re-indexed his glasses with his index finger before asserting with a tone filled with certainty that his team was most certainly not deceased.
"That's not possible. Our current data suggests that the average level of those awakened within the outlaw population is around level ten. In fact, the maximum level of an awakened outlaw we have come across is only level ten.
Well... Aside from those monsters in California who refer to themselves as Elysium, that is.... But they are so far away from Carson City that I highly doubt they have any contact.
When compared to our soldiers in the field who average at a level of fifteen, there is no way that they would be able to be wiped out by such plebeians. Even if the entire settlement attacked them, they would easily be able to escape with their lives intact.
Something else must be going on… I just don't know what…"
The aging director of the bunker complex gazed upon the Black screens, which had all gone out at the same time. And sighed heavily before speaking his thoughts on the matter.
"I hope you are right…"
---
While the Director of the Federal Government's bunker complex debated with his aide about what had happened to their soldiers, Zane stood over a pile of dismembered corpses. He had attacked so swiftly that the cameras embedded in the soldiers' armor had not even detected his presence.
Instead, he had killed the party of US Recon Soldiers in an instant and had broken the cameras in the process. As he gazed upon the bloody remains of the soldiers whose gear, while inferior to his own, was a step above the quality of that which the residents of his settlement wore, a familiar voice spoke in the back of his mind. Saying the dreadful words which he had nearly forgotten.
"The hearts…"
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