Chapter 42: Ironatom
"Why does this keep happening? Why do people always have a death wish?" Finn muttered, frowning. If this guy kept following him around, he’d just kill him and be done with it.
The off-road vehicle thundered past with a deafening roar, barely missing Finn before swerving in a wide arc and skidding to a hard stop right in his path.
Finn pulled the brake levers on his mountain bike. The massive momentum bled away in seconds, and the bike gradually rolled to a halt.
The middle-aged driver kicked open the SUV door and jumped out in a huff. The instant he turned around, he found himself staring down the barrel of Finn’s nuclear rocket launcher.
All the anger drained from the man’s face at once.
He plastered on a placating smile and raised both hands in surrender. “Hey, buddy! Easy there! Let’s talk this out!”
It seemed the nuclear rocket launcher was good for more than just killing people—it could also calm them down. Satisfied, Finn lowered the weapon. “What do you want?”
“Young man, I just wanted to see why your bike’s so fast.” The driver’s smile was warm and friendly.
He didn’t have much choice in the matter, not with that rugged nuclear rocket launcher still in Finn’s hand.
“It’s just my special ability,” Finn replied casually.
“Oh! A mutant! That explains it!” Realization hit the driver. He gave a thumbs-up. “Your power speeds up a bicycle? That’s a pretty unique ability.”
“If that’s all, I’m leaving.” Finn mounted his mountain bike and rode toward Ironatom.
The middle-aged driver climbed back into his SUV and tried to start the engine. For some reason, he turned the key and pumped the accelerator again and again, but the engine only clicked and refused to catch.
"Young man, help me out!" the middle-aged man shouted from behind. "My car’s out of gas!"
Finn chuckled to himself. Just moments ago the guy had been flooring it like a madman, and now he was already out of fuel.
This really highlighted the bike’s advantage. No fuel or supplies needed—just one push of the pedals and the rear wheel would spin fifty times. In a resource-scarce wasteland like this, you didn’t have to scavenge for gasoline everywhere. It was the perfect eco-friendly ride.
"Young man, give me a ride on your bike and I’ll introduce my daughter to you!" the man yelled from behind.
Is your daughter just a bargaining chip to you? Finn thought with a silent scoff. Still, with nothing but open wilderness in every direction and no one else around, leaving this middle-aged man stranded out here would probably mean he’d starve to death.
Finn decided to do a good deed. He pedaled at a relaxed pace over to the front of the SUV, pulled out an iron chain, hooked one end to the bike’s rear rack, and secured the other to the front of the vehicle.
Then he started pedaling again. Effortlessly, he towed the heavy SUV forward. Sitting in the driver’s seat, the man watched the bicycle ahead pulling his prized modified off-roader, his face frozen in disbelief.
He couldn’t help wondering if it was time to quit the car modification business.
…
As Finn pedaled the bike with the man riding along in the towed SUV, the driver struck up a conversation.
He was a talkative, cheerful guy named Lambert Benson. A resident of Ironatom, he ran a car repair shop and mainly handled repairs and custom modifications.
Once he learned Finn was a traveler heading to Ironatom, he warmly invited him to stay at his place.
Lambert gripped the steering wheel with both hands and spoke enthusiastically.
“Let me tell you, the hotels in Ironatom charge way too much and the conditions are terrible. They specifically target outsiders like you to rip off! Stay at my place instead. I’ll clear out a spare room for you. We even have our own homemade water heater that runs on second-grade purified water. It’s pretty comfortable.”
Second-grade purified water for bathing? Finn was a bit surprised. Back in Black Mountain, they had to ration second-grade purified water and could only use it for drinking. Only lower-quality water, or even radioactive dirty water, was used for cleaning.
Finn readily accepted Lambert Benson’s invitation. Since he was new to Ironatom, having a local as a guide would be far better than wandering around on his own.
“Do you have plenty of water resources?” Finn asked.
“Not really abundant. But ever since Cool Prophet brought over the water purification chip fifty years ago and built the sewage treatment plant, we’ve been able to recycle our water.”
Cool Prophet… Finn thought of this mysterious figure. It was said that he had granted Ironatom advanced technological knowledge, and then one morning, just as suddenly as he had appeared, he vanished without a trace.
Finn’s visit to Ironatom was also partly to investigate Cool Prophet. Maybe the man had some connection to the World Nucleus. With no leads at the moment, Finn could only take things one step at a time and collect whatever useful information he could find.
Finn kept pedaling and asked casually, “Mind telling me about Cool Prophet?”
That was all it took to get Lambert talking. He launched into a nonstop, enthusiastic speech, heaping praise on the man.
“Cool Prophet is the greatest figure our Ironatom has ever known…”
Through Lambert’s account, Finn learned that more than fifty years ago, a dust-covered traveler arrived in Ironatom.
He removed his heavy cloak, revealing a solemn, almost sacred face, and introduced himself as “Cool Prophet.”
To the simple folk of the wasteland, he made grand promises of a bright future and shared a great deal of technological knowledge, helping them rebuild their homes from the ruins.
The technologies he passed down included water purification chips that could cleanse pollution, anti-radiation agents for people to take, various light industrial processes, small armored vehicles, nuclear fusion batteries, and Ironatom’s signature product—Nuka-Cola.
Lambert couldn’t stop singing Cool Prophet’s praises. In his telling, Cool Prophet was Ironatom’s savior, the pioneer who would bring a bright future to Refuge City, and a divine child sent by Heaven to redeem this wasteland continent.
Unfortunately, one morning Cool Prophet suddenly disappeared, leaving behind only a mysterious black iron box and a single note. The box was locked and protected by a password lock.
The note stated that only the one chosen by heaven could open the black iron box and claim the wealth Cool Prophet had left behind.
Ironatom’s people couldn’t crack the password. According to the note, any attempt to force the box open would release acid inside that would corrode everything, leaving nothing behind.
To honor Cool Prophet’s memory, the people of Ironatom built a museum dedicated to his relics. The black iron box and other items he left behind were carefully preserved there for future generations to see.
“What did Cool Prophet look like?” Finn asked curiously.
“I don’t really remember,” Lambert said, shaking his head. “I’m thirty-nine now, but Cool Prophet arrived in our Refuge City before I was born. I was lucky enough to catch a glimpse of him once when I was a kid, but then he just disappeared without a word.”
Cool Prophet, huh? An interesting guy. Finn looked toward the horizon, thinking that maybe he could open the black iron box the man had left behind and see what was inside.
Guided by Lambert Benson, they rounded a large mountain ridge. A thriving Refuge City gradually came into view, spreading across the land before Finn’s eyes.
Dozens of smokestacks rose toward the sky, releasing plumes of brownish-black smoke that hinted at solid industrial capacity. Along the streets of Refuge City, streetlights flickered on one after another, forming an unbroken chain that looked like strings of golden pearls.
“Young man, welcome to Ironatom, the best home in the world!” Lambert Benson shouted with enthusiasm.