It was a lot later in the evening, the others had turned in with Jamal taking first shift to keep watch, his words from earlier still running through John's head causing him to approach the bigger man somewhat hesitantly. "How do you do it? How do you keep being so upbeat and happy? How do you know you can even thrust them? They won't stab you in the back or turn on you? How do you keep going after being turned on and taking the life of the one person you had left?" John asked, his voice low with genuine curiosity as if searching for answers before looking down at his hands. "Due to reasons not my own I missed over two years, for me it's been just less than a week since things changed, but in that time, I feel I've seen too much already, things that makes you question everything you know and if you can even trust those next to you. Recently, recently I witnessed the pervasive darkness in people's hearts and how they can be far worse than any monster or beast out there. For fuck's sake even the people I rescued, the fighters who swore to join me as a defense for my base that were rescued from literal slavery and I would have let leave if they wanted turned on me earlier today. They threatened me and tried to blackmail me so I, I had to… take care of them." John finished, each word conveying the weight they carried caused a deep frown etched onto Jamal's face.
Jamal leaned forward slightly, his gaze piercing. "Were you bad to them? Did you mistreat them in some way?" He paused as a bitter memory surfaced. "I remember that's why my little squad here defected a week ago. We just couldn't stomach the hypocrisy anymore in the governments camp. We understood soldiers need to follow orders, not question our superiors, but things stopped making sense, they stopped being morally defensible. Supplies would roll in, but our rations kept dwindling. The higher-ups went out less and less, while we were sent out into the thick of it more frequently with less support. And then there was the women… some in other squads began to disappear. We were told they died in duty we all knew it a convenient lie because no bodies were ever found or brought back to camp, funny part of it is we didn't really care early on, it never bothered us since it had nothing to do with us if the weird guy the bosses listened to ordered things, but then my sister disappeared, we began asking questions which caused a change in attitude towards us, more dangerous jobs, more excuses and 'accidents' in regards to weaponry well being given weapons rather than being able to choose our own like we could before."
He snorted, a harsh, dismissive sound that cut through the dim light of their shelter. "The final straw though, was when we were ordered to attack a building, supposedly it was held by one of the new pop-up groups that had encroached on what the higher-ups claimed was our territory and needed to be taken out for the safety of the innocents under there care." Jamal's voice dripped with sarcasm on the last word. "Turns out, it was just a small group of survivors who banded together, they were trying to pass through. My squad, thinking we were doing the right thing at the time brought them back to base. We genuinely believed they'd be integrated into the other survivors or sent to the new camp there slowly making as residents, an attempt at expansion. Instead, the higher-ups branded them spies before executing the men on the spot right in front of us, they then had the women taken for 'interrogation'." His hand clenched tightly around an imaginary hilt, knuckles white, his anger palpable.
"We snuck out and escaped with what rations we could soon after that. Even before the world ended we would fight to protect the people, even if our actions where monstrous we would do it if it meant we protected our own people, even if it was only the idea behind our actions and we never saw there it openly like we had then, what we did was never meant to be a way to serve the whims of a select few like those assholes who no longer bothered to hide their actions. It makes me wonder how many of those we killed thinking they were attackers were actually attackers or not." He finished with a heavy sigh, the weight of their past decisions heavy in the air.
"I can definitely understand that. The whole 'power corrupts' thing is sickeningly real there, isn't it?" John asked with a sigh, having already figured the government camp would have turned out like that, people clinging to old power and positions. "Honestly, I can imagine that happening to myself, that slow erosion of principles, not like I will have such worries for that much longer. Sigh. I can already picture the few people I have left at camp are going to leave because of my actions and how I handled those bastards. As for your question the answer is no, they weren't mistreated or even treated badly for that matter. Everyone had a home, food, even equipment and well it probably wasn't the greatest was still far better than nothing, every single one even freed from those Marauder bastards. Yeah, everything we got from hunts and scavenging would be stored and managed, but it wasn't like it was only for me. Our cook made food for everyone. Rations and everything depended on contribution of course, but from what I understood, they were never short or cheated and would often have a larger portion of food, especially the meat from the hunts or first pick whenever we brought out the special nonperishables." A deep weariness settled over him, the kind that sinks into your bones as he explained all of it to Jamal, possibly giving to many details but finding he couldn't stop himself.
"Well, tell me about all of it then, you seem like you need someone to listen and we still have a bit of time before the sun comes up or the Goliath comes." Jamal offered, his voice surprisingly gentle. The others in his squad had subtly drawn closer, now only pretending not to listen in on their conversation, their curiosity a silent hum in the room, "Sometimes the best thing a person can offer is a ear to listen or a shoulder to cry on, besides the others are still asleep so just open up to sappy Jamal over here." He said with a small smile, once more showing his kindness and understanding.
Hesitant at first, feeling he had already said to much John took a moment, looking at him, Jamal didn't push, he just sat patiently, his gaze switching from John to the street then back to him, he seemed honestly understanding so John began to talk and before he knew it he had begun to tell him everything that had happened, his voice breaking at various points. He started with the fight, how Alice and another where the first into the fray, how he stood back and watched them fight and then the terrifying moment she got hurt, forcing him to send Ash, the other fighter to get help from there camp, something he should have tried to do at the start of the fight, how he should have been in the fight from the start. He recounted the cold, questioning, about why they took so long along with their response, how it devolved into their real leader threatening him in various ways in hopes to get his own way. He further explained his own brutal actions afterwards, how he traded them away to ensure they wouldn't be able to cause any future trouble for him or bring harm to those around him, a decision that earned a sharp, disapproving frown from Jamal but he remained silent, not interrupting or judging him, simply listening with an unnerving stillness. John's voice dropped to a near whisper as he spoke of what happened to Alice, his swift, vengeful killing of Jamerson after finding out what he had done to Alice before finally telling him the harrowing, agonizing decision he made to kill Alice himself to end the perpetual pain she was trapped in. He tried but failed to choked back a sob at that part, a single, solitary tear tracing a path down his cheek.
"And then I was slowly making my way back to my camp when you pulled me over, I planned to explain my actions to everyone in the morning, confront those that are left regardless of how the truth makes me seem and then let anyone who wants to go can do so. I'm sure everyone is going to leave and it would probably be better that way and if it leads to others attacking then so be it, I feel I deserve it at this point after what I've done. It would also mean less chance of something happening to them by not being tied to me anymore." John finished, his tone devoid of hope, heavy with self-condemnation.
"Tsk!" A sharp, disgusted sound cut through the air. The woman with the axe walking over towards them, seemingly having heard everything as she sent him a hard gaze well stepping over. Her voice was venomous, each word spat out like a stone. "They fight for you, protect everyone and then when they fail to meet your expectations and it results in someone you felt was more important getting hurt, you get rid of them? Then, because you couldn't look after the person or handle what happened to them because of you and your weakness you kill them yourself with the stupid justification of 'ending their pain' or whatever but in truth it's just to make things easier for yourself! You're just a fucken coward and a loser. Just as bad as those hypocrites we left behind who would throw people away when they dared to show backbone or as a way to cover their own fuck ups, using others to feed their own fucked up justifications well lying to everyone and themselves thinking if they tell themselves the lie enough times it becomes a truth." She punctuated her words by spitting at John's feet, a deliberate act of contempt. Each of her words where like a physical impact, each word cutting him deep well making him wonder if that was the truth of his actions, if he was only lying to himself and seeking to justify his actions. With a sigh he turned to Jamal whose face seemed to have tightened with anger, at him or the woman he didn't know but didn't much care now, wiping his face he stood up.
"Thanks for the drink earlier Jamal and for listening to my bitching. I'd pay you back but I don't really have much on me right now, but if we meet in the future, I will make sure to treat you to all you can eat and drink. I can see I'm not welcome here and I don't want to cause problems with your group, but considering she and possibly the others no doubt heard my sins, all that I did I can fully understand why. I will remember your Kindness though; I always try to pay back my debts so make sure you live till we meet again." John said, his voice flat, devoid of emotion and even a bit broken, his movements stiff and forced as he began to leave. Behind him, he heard a loud slap and various raised voices, it seemed like he was right, the others either hadn't been sleeping or had woken up at some point. He ignored it all though, feeling he had caused enough trouble for others again but cementing his thoughts on what actions to take as he walked out the building. He pulled up his hood, its shadow obscuring his face and ensured the chains were tight and secure around him, if his actions meant he was a villain or a monster then so be it, he would become exactly that.
He'd only walked a block away when the ground began to tremble beneath his feet followed by a deep rumble and earth-shattering thud. A powerful gust of wind roared behind him, carrying dust and debris well forcing him to stumble forward. Turning after getting his footing, John watched with a strange detachment that settled over him as a giant, mountain-like creature seemed to slowly stand up from the rubble crater. Its exterior was a solid grey with faint bits of moss clinging to its colossal form. A smooth, almost polished surface broken only by a strange, ethereal mark that slowly slid across its body like a brand crawling across stone. A large, human-sized eye that glowed with an inner light seemed to float around it, observing its surroundings with an ancient, terrifying intelligence. Its arms didn't match its body, seemingly crafted from dark wrought steel ending in massive, crushing fists and where its head should have been was a large, pyramid-like object. The sheer scale and unnatural construction of the beast was breathtaking and a terrifying testament to a power beyond human understanding.
Soon after its landing a loud shout ripped through the air quickly followed by another and then many more, a chorus of alarm and determination followed by streaks of fire, crackles of lightning and torrents of water seemed to erupt from various directions alongside what seemed like arrows, spears and even axes. All of it slamming into the Goliath's stony form as he could make out the form of others rushing over to attack it. Seeing this he found himself questioning what the point of such a suicidal charge could be, before realizing there was no doubt a reward to tempting to ignore, something that would come with taking down such a formidable foe. But he soon turned away and continued to camp, frowning as he found himself no longer caring about the commotion behind him. He just wanted to get home, to his sparse and quiet little camp and maybe get a little bit of sleep if he could. Perhaps after finishing one of the forgotten bottles of alcohol he'd noticed in the study to help numb everything he was feeling.
A glint of steel caught his eye as a dagger landed in the street just in front of him, its point embedded in the cracked pavement. A moment later, a group of punk-looking people emerged from the shadows of a crumbling building. They were tall and lanky, their clothes ripped and patched with bits of scavenged leather used as makeshift armor. They brandished crude weapons in an attempt to look intimidating, but coming off more like Mad Max rejects, desperate and slightly ridiculous with their exaggerated posturing clearly trying to appear more confident and intimidating than they really where.
"There's a toll here pretty boy, if you want to go through here you need to give us something valuable, that shouldn't be to big a problem for someone like you yeah? You clearly been doing quite well fro yourself." the one with a large, spiky mohawk and the aforementioned dagger announced, clearly the apparent leader. His tongue flicked out, making a gross, licking motion towards his blade, a theatrical gesture of menace John thought was only done in anime or manga. "Actually, give us all you have and we will let you go without hurting you to much."
"And if I don't?" John asked, a sigh of annoyance escaping him as he ran a hand over his tired face. "Look, I'm not in the mood for this shit and I'm really not someone you want to fuck with right now. I just want to get home and sleep. So take your ragtag group of misfits and do the right thing by letting me go and pick a different target, I'm trying to take some advice right now, but that doesn't mean I will keep hesitating, I'm just giving you a single chance before I act." He said with a frown, his patients wearing thin. The leader and his crew responded with raucous laughter, their bravado fueled by John's weary demeanor.
"There's a group of us and only one of you, so do what we tell you and I wont have to carve up that pretty face of yours!" The leader crowed, a sneer twisting his features. John let out another sigh, a deep, exasperated sound. He gave them a chance but they through it back in his face. The chains sprang forth, humming with a sudden, lethal energy.
They flew out with a speed the punks obviously didn't expect, their edges instantly sharpening and hooking once more as they sliced through the air, cutting at the closest would-be bandits without warning and taking them completely by surprise. Before they could even register the pain, he moved. The scythe, which had been resting against his back was in his hand in an instant, its blade glinting wickedly. He walked forward, giving it a powerful, graceful swing that disarmed someone, there severed arm flying through the air.
The bandits who were a bit further away, those who hadn't been hit or cut by the fast chains, instinctively stumbled backward, visibly blanching with fear. Their leader, the one with the mohawk and knife had fallen was frantically scrambling backwards, a pathetic display of terror replacing his earlier defiance and confidence.
"Big boss! I'm sorry, I didn't know you were strong like this! Let us go, though! Please! Were just some small fries!" He began to beg, his voice cracking, his previous bravado vanishing as if it had never existed. John though was unimpressed, slowly he retracted his chains, wrapping them securely around himself after they had smoothed out, their sharp edges receding. The scythe remained in his hand as a silent threat. Various groans of pain could be heard from those who were hit, their crumpled forms writhing on the ground and the one now missing an arm was screaming, a high-pitched, guttural sound as he desperately tried to stop the blood from rushing out the stump that had become his arm.
"How many have you killed?" John suddenly asked, his voice low, almost conversational, getting only a confused and scared look from the trembling leader.
"Wha… what? What do you mean big boss? Is there someone you want us to kill? We can do it! Just tell us who and where they are and we can try for you! Or if you want, I can take you to our boss and you can knock him off and take over! You seem much stronger and better than him and I can tell your extremely are merciful and kind! You didn't kill any of my brothers here so please big boss, don't kill me! I will do anything you ask." The leader seemed to plead, practically groveling now well clearly not understanding John's question. Instead, he was bounding around in a desperate attempt to appease the stronger party, his words a jumbled mess born of terror that made him sigh once again.
Clearly, this was one of those people who fear the strong well picking on the weak and his group was no doubt just as bad. But John didn't hold it against him in the way he would a hypocrite. This was just his pathetic, desperate way of trying to survive in this brutalized world. He believed the term was 'grabbing onto a thigh' or something like that, latching onto power and it was no doubt how this sniveling wretch had survived till this point, clinging to the strongest person who would take them in and using their name along with power as a form of protection. Without saying a word, John put the scythe away, sliding it back onto his back before walking away, leaving the whimpering group behind him.
The punk-like leader, unsure what to do, looked at his subordinates, then quickly ordered them to help the fallen before tending to the one with a missing arm. Tonight's hunt had caused more harm to them than good, they ended up losing far more than they gained but he knew that's how it goes sometimes, you win some and you lose some but as long as they were alive, they could try again with a bit more care next time. They had met someone who seemed vastly different than what they were used to dealing with this time and it was a sign they had grown lax but someone like that would no doubt make for a very profitable mark, calling one of the unharmed members over, he ordered them in a hushed, urgent tone to follow John but to also keep a safe distance and stay out of sight. He wanted a full report when they found out where John was going. This 'big boss' might just be worth pursuing after all.