Chapter 122: A Warning?
By late afternoon, the sun had begun sinking toward the horizon. The blinding white light over the wasteland gradually took on a dull golden tint, though the waves of heat showed little sign of weakening.
Inside the innermost warehouse of the agricultural supply center, the refugees began waking after several hours of rest. One of them pulled himself up with a shelf and went to the entrance to check the sky.
The man who had first suggested forcing their way into the settlement soon joined him. After checking the light outside, he called into the warehouse.
“It’s almost time. Get ready to leave.”
People began sitting up along the walls. Some reached for the metal pipes beside them, while others picked up freshly torn brackets or checked what little they had left.
Only a thin layer of water remained at the bottom of the shared bucket.
The man guarding it no longer bothered limiting everyone to a single mouthful. He passed the bucket around, and those nearby took turns drinking until not a drop remained. Others emptied the last of their personal water bottles into their mouths.
The remaining food came out as well.
Several pieces of hardened rations were broken apart and shared. Someone poured every crumb from the bottom of a bag into his mouth, while another tore open the final compressed food block and swallowed it in a few bites.
No one tried to save anything for tomorrow.
If they failed to get food and water that night, whether they would even live to see tomorrow was another question.
Empty bottles and wrappers were tossed onto the floor. The refugees pulled themselves upright, reclaimed their makeshift weapons, and gathered near the warehouse entrance.
Someone searched through the crowd and suddenly asked, “Where’s Johnson? Didn’t he go out looking for water? Why isn’t he back yet?”
Only then did the others realize that the man who had stayed with them and urged them to wait until sunset had never returned.
“Maybe he found water and ran off by himself.”
Several people searched the wasteland outside, but the rolling heat distorted everything in sight. There was no sign of anyone.
The man leading the group refused to wait any longer. He rested his metal pipe across one shoulder.
“Forget him. One more or one less won’t make a difference. We’re leaving.”
Those gathered at the entrance followed him out.
More refugees emerged from the warehouse and stepped into the still-scorching wind. Dry sand rose beneath their feet, while pipes, wrenches, and metal brackets knocked together with irregular clinks.
The line gradually stretched out as they began the slow journey toward the trading post.
Not long before they set out, however, the man they knew as Johnson had already reached the area near the settlement.
The Poison King stood behind a low mound and loosened his collar. He rubbed sand across his face and neck, then tore several edges of his clothing. What had once looked reasonably tidy quickly became disheveled, covered in dust and sweat.
He rolled across the ground several times to coat himself in even more dirt, then braced himself against the earth and carefully controlled his breathing.
Before long, all that remained on his face was exhaustion and urgency. He looked like someone who had crossed a great distance through unbearable heat.
Once he was satisfied that nothing seemed out of place, he emerged from behind the mound.
He didn’t hurry. Instead, he dragged his steps toward the entrance, stopping every so often to catch his breath. At times, he even stumbled as though he might collapse in the wasteland at any moment.
Meanwhile, the trading post remained busy.
The Polar Pulse Ice Synthesizer had been running without pause. Susan and Ray stayed beside the machine, transferring each new batch of ice into insulated containers. Cass moved along the edge of the canopy with the hose, while Vane and Reed scattered ice over the hottest parts of the ground.
Jack had just carried an empty container back to the ice synthesizer when the system’s voice sounded in his mind.
“Human, a primate mammal is approaching. Number of targets: one. Estimated arrival time: thirty minutes.”
Jack set down the container and was about to ask a question when the system continued.
“Additional information: the primate mammal currently approaching is the same individual detected near this location on the previous two occasions.”
A smile slowly spread across Jack’s face.
“So you’ve finally decided to show yourself.”
He went straight into the trading post and found Elias.
“He’s coming.”
“Who?”
“The Poison King.”
That caught Elias’s full attention. “Are you sure?”
“Probably. What we can confirm is that it’s the same person who showed up on the last two nights.”
“Your earlier analysis made sense,” Elias said, “but what if this person isn’t the Poison King?”
“Then we treat him like he is. If we’re wrong, we apologize afterward.”
Elias accepted the logic. “Fair enough.”
He called Cass over. “Get the drone ready, but don’t launch it yet.”
Then he addressed Gordon, Harvey, and Reed.
“Start all thirteen CUEVs, but don’t move them. Someone stays ready beside every vehicle. If anyone runs, get after him immediately. Do not let him disappear from sight. Understood?”
“Understood.”
Elias called to Vane next. “Go to the shelter and bring back several people who can drive a CUEV.”
Vane immediately headed for the shelter.
Cass went to prepare the drone, while the others started the CUEVs parked nearby. A series of low electrical hums filled the area as dashboards lit up one after another.
Vane soon returned with several drivers from the shelter. Elias assigned each of them to a vehicle, then had the remaining CUEVs checked for charge and mechanical condition.
Jack and Megan watched the preparations from nearby. Their eyes met for a moment.
Neither said anything, but the same question was written across both their faces.
Was all this really necessary?
Elias clearly thought it was.
After checking every position again, he addressed Megan.
“Megan, get your Tes-something ready too. If the Poison King runs, we may need your help.”
“All right.”
She was about to leave when Jack stopped her.
“Wait. Is there any way to keep him from running too fast?”
“No,” Elias said. “And even if there were, getting close enough to use it would be too dangerous.”
“There might be one way,” Megan said. “A laxative would slow him down, but only if we can get him to drink it.”
Jack fell silent for a moment.
“Prepare it anyway. Dissolve it in water and give it to me. I’ll see if I can get him to take it.”
“Plain water probably won’t work,” Megan warned. “Someone called the Poison King will be careful about anything offered at the entrance. He won’t drink it without checking.”
“Then use a drink with a strong flavor. Something that can cover anything unusual.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
Megan soon returned from the convenience store and handed Jack the prepared drink. He placed it beside an insulated container filled with ice.
Once everything was ready, Jack, Megan, and Elias went beneath the canopy in front of the shelter. Everyone else remained at their assigned positions, behaving as though nothing unusual had happened.
Time passed.
Heat still distorted the wasteland beyond the entrance, and no one was visible in the distance.
Eventually, a hazy figure appeared.
The stranger moved slowly, swaying with every step and stopping repeatedly to catch his breath. His clothes were filthy and disheveled, with sand covering his body and face. He looked as though he had traveled a long way through the heat.
The guards spotted him quickly.
“Stop! Don’t come any closer!”
The figure halted at a distance. After several heavy breaths, he raised his head and shouted in a dry, hoarse voice.
“Jack! Something’s wrong!”
“The refugees are coming to take this place!”
Jack and the others fell silent.
The man had come to warn them.
Henry muttered from nearby, “Cass actually called it.”
Elias kept his voice low. “Something’s wrong. If that really is the Poison King, why would he warn us?”
“Who knows?” Jack said. “Let’s see what he wants.”
The stranger seemed not to have understood the warning and dragged himself forward another few steps.
“Stop!” one of the guards shouted again. “Do not come any closer!”
Jack quickly added, “Stay where you are, friend! Whatever you need to say, you can say it from there.”
He approached the entrance and stopped behind the guards, keeping a safe distance between himself and the stranger.
The Poison King finally stopped, appearing helpless and innocent.
“I mean no harm. I came to warn you.”
“Take your time,” Jack said. “Have a drink first. Then you can tell us what happened.”
The Poison King checked the bottle in his hand with an embarrassed expression.
“I’m out of water.”
Jack called over his shoulder, “Meg, bring me a bottle.”
The prepared bottle was soon placed in his hand.
“Move back a little first,” Jack told the stranger.
The Poison King hesitated. His attention briefly passed over the entrance behind Jack before he slowly retreated.
Jack found the reaction curious but didn’t dwell on it. He handed the bottle to one of the guards, who stepped outside, placed it on the ground between them, and quickly returned behind the fence.
“All right. Come and get it.”
The Poison King approached and picked up the bottle. Instead of drinking immediately, he held it in both hands and inspected it, as though reluctant to waste such precious water.
Then he carefully opened the cap and took a small sip.
He held the water in his mouth for a moment before swallowing. After waiting and detecting nothing unusual, he stopped restraining himself and drank several large mouthfuls.
Only after the water level had visibly dropped did Jack ask, “Now tell me. What exactly are the refugees doing?”
The Poison King lowered the bottle and caught his breath before recounting what had happened at the agricultural supply center.
When he finished, Jack asked, “Why didn’t you come with them?”
The Poison King drew his shoulders inward, fear spreading across his face.
“I don’t want to die. I tried to stop them, but they’ve gone insane. They called me a coward and nearly killed me too.”
He gripped the bottle and lowered his head, as though the fear still hadn’t left him.
“I barely escaped, so I came here as quickly as I could to warn you.”
“Thank you for coming,” Jack said through the fence. “You must be hungry too.”
“A little.”
“Then get some rest. I’ll have someone bring you food.”
The Poison King appeared grateful, then indicated the canopy inside the fence.
“Thank you. Could I sit over there for a while? I’ll stay near the edge. I won’t go anywhere else.”
Jack’s smile never changed, but his mind immediately went on alert.
Well, well.
That made three times.
“Sorry, but we can’t let outsiders in right now,” Jack said politely. “Wait outside. I’ll have some ice water sent over.”
The Poison King seemed ready to argue, but Jack gave him no opportunity. He returned beneath the canopy.
Once he was close to the others, Jack deliberately raised his voice.
“Meg, prepare some food for our friend outside. Bring another drink too. Pour some into a cup and add plenty of ice. He crossed all that ground in this heat to warn us. We can’t treat him poorly.”
“All right.”
Megan understood immediately and headed back to the convenience store.
Once she was gone, Jack moved closer to Elias and lowered his voice.
“It’s almost certainly him.”
Elias kept his attention on the Poison King outside. “Why?”
“He’s tried to get inside three times now, and this time he actually asked. Either way, let’s test him first.”
Elias quietly accepted the plan.
Megan returned not long afterward with a tray of food. It held a bottle of flavored drink and a cup poured from the same bottle, with several pieces of ice floating inside.
As she handed it to Jack, she gave him a slight signal.
Jack carried the tray toward the entrance himself.
“Move back a little farther, friend. I’ll put this down for you.”
The Poison King had no choice but to retreat. Jack placed the tray some distance outside the entrance, then returned behind the fence.
“Go ahead and eat. The drink in the cup has ice. The rest of the bottle is yours too.”
“Thank you.”
The Poison King approached the food and crouched beside it. He lifted the cup first, inspecting the pieces of ice shifting in the drink. Then he took a careful sip, as though unwilling to waste such a rare cold beverage.
He held the liquid in his mouth before slowly swallowing. Once again, nothing seemed wrong.
He drank several more mouthfuls, opened the food, and began eating in small bites. After a while, his pace gradually quickened. The remaining drink sat beside him, and he took another swallow every so often as he ate.
Jack returned to Elias.
“Bring all the CUEVs over to the shelter.”
Elias immediately passed the order along.
Jack then found Cass. “Launch the drone. Let us know the moment you find the refugees.”
Cass sent it into the air. Its faint hum gradually faded as the drone crossed the fence and followed the route from the agricultural supply center toward the settlement.
Outside the fence, the Poison King continued eating while quietly taking in everything inside the settlement.
All thirteen CUEVs were running, and the drone had already risen above the fence. Beneath the canopy sat plenty of food, water, and ice, while everyone nearby carried out Jack and Elias’s instructions.
His grip tightened around the food in his hand. He wanted everything before him for himself.
As far as he could tell, the preparations were meant for the approaching refugees. It never occurred to him that the CUEVs and the drone were also waiting for him.
The light across the wasteland gradually faded. The sun disappeared beyond the distant horizon, but the heat trapped in the ground remained.
Not long after darkness settled over the wasteland, Cass suddenly raised his head from the drone controller.
“They’re coming!”