Chapter 10 - Task Force (3) (2/2)

He had personally seen the veterans die in vain as they fought to their last breath, while the recruits were howling in fright. He eventually blamed everything on himself.

“I hate this damned world!”

The team leader said as he gritted his teeth.

…

“Hunter Dog! Hunter Dog! This is Vulture, answer if you can hear me!”

Calls of the helicopter pilot suddenly came from the wireless radio on his shoulder. The team leader hesitated slightly but still switched the communication channel open.

“Hunter Dog, copy. Speak.”

“The extraction point has been overrun by ghouls, report your current location.”

“The new extraction point is at the Southwestern District Police Station. I’ll release red smoke on its roof.”

“Copy that, we’re moving toward there now. Hang on!”

“Roger.”

…

The helicopter flew northward.

The team leader leaned against the wall of the helicopter cabin, his face entirely void of any feeling of joy from being rescued. Instead, he felt lost. As he gazed at City St. John, which was bathed in the rain of disaster, he kept thinking about the purpose of such a war.

…

South of St. John City, on a broken down public road.

A long crack nearly divided the road into two, and the various signs painted on it had already been disfigured. The withered trees at its sides looked on as the sandstorm raged on, covering the road with a thick layer of dirt. Once in a while, there were abandoned vehicles strewn across the road.

The cars had been stripped of their leather, and many of their spare parts had been taken away. The leather could be used to stitch up protective gear or simple clothing, while undamaged vehicular components could be sold to certain technicians.

I followed the road toward St. John City. I had been walking for a few hours now, and could already see the tall buildings from afar.

As I traveled for the last few hours, I encountered not only the merchant caravans from the North that were going to Dick Town, but also several looters that were spying on me from afar.

I never showed any mercy to raiders of the Wasteland, as they never had any good intentions. Before they could come close to me, I shot off the head of one of them with my sniper rifle, and the others scattered. It was easy, wasn’t it?

I walked up to the corpse and used the tip of my leg to scoop some sand onto the gaping wound to prevent more sticky brain matter from oozing out. I did not find the wound disgusting, but rather a nuisance.

Hmm? A bone necklace? I plucked a necklace from the corpse’s neck. From its structure, it seemed to be human, and it was most likely that of a deceased woman of the Wasteland, as it was light.

In the past, humans had turned the Earth into the Wasteland, but now, the Wasteland had turned mankind savage. Cannibalism was widespread, and it was also common for the psychotic looters to use the human bones that they had just picked clean as accessories.

I threw the necklace away and searched around the body, only managing to find a short nicked knife. It was useless to me, and it seemed like I’ve killed a poor fool. I grabbed a handful of sand and rubbed it between my palms. This was my usual habit—Everytime I touched something as unlucky as that, I would always clean my hands. I did not know if the carcass would fall to a mutated rat or wild scorpion, but it was none of my concern.

I returned back to the road to St. John City.

When I was in Dick Town, I heard many merchant caravans who transited mention the city.

Human relations had become extremely complicated after the nuclear war, and there were many factions within St. John City itself. There were the ‘Blaze Gang’, the largest group of looters, the ‘Gun Team’, an organization made up of surviving army and police personnel, as well as the criminal organization ‘Mozark’, which had survived since the beginning of the war.

The Blaze Gang was a paradise for looters. Its members did not produce anything and got their resources like the other looters in the Wasteland by scavenging and robbery. Their main area of activity was in the Southern District.

The Gun Team was like a paramilitary organization that could help protect normal civilians, but at the price of their labor. They possessed fine weapons and iron discipline, and their area of operations was at the Northwest District.

The Mozark was a criminal organization that existed before the war and was more low-profile in nature. All of their members wore black gloves and they were active in the Southwest District of the city, where they had interactions with the other two factions.

As for the Eastern and Northern districts of City St. John, they were restricted zones for humans.

The day that nuclear war broke out, as the trajectory of the bombs were slightly off, one of them that should have hit the Central district landed unexpectedly on the mountainous Northeastern District, thus greatly reducing the fallout. Even so, the Eastern and Northern districts were badly affected, and most of the houses there were badly damaged badly by radiation.

Now, this piece of land had become a paradise for ghouls and mutants.