Ch 8: Into the Wastes

Kael's crawler hummed along the cracked and uneven road, the engine coughing occasionally but soldiering on. The landscape stretched endlessly before him—a patchwork of desolation, where the land bore scars from a history that no one alive fully remembered. Skeletons of old factories jutted out of the ground like the bones of giants, and the air carried a faint metallic tang that never fully dissipated.

The blank had been harsh, but it was familiar. Out here, Kael felt unmoored, as if the ground beneath him might give way at any moment.

Kael had packed enough rations to last him a couple of weeks, but he knew the supplies wouldn't stretch forever. He spent his first few nights parked in secluded spots, using makeshift camouflage to hide the crawler while he slept inside. Each night, the silence was broken only by the howling wind and the occasional distant gunshot or animal cry.

The crawler's small stove sputtered as Kael heated a can of preserved stew. He stared out into the night, his shotgun resting on his lap. For years, he'd prided himself on his ability to adapt, to survive. But the wastes tested even him.

On the second day, he encountered his first real challenge: a stretch of terrain covered in razorvine—a mutated plant with metallic, barbed tendrils. The vines had overgrown the road, forcing Kael to navigate carefully. He used a makeshift flamethrower attachment on the crawler to clear a path, but the process drained precious fuel.

"Dammit," Kael muttered as the flames sputtered and died. He stepped out with a machete, hacking at the remaining vines. The effort left him drenched in sweat and nursing a deep scratch on his forearm where a tendril had caught him.

The third day brought a new threat. As Kael navigated a particularly treacherous stretch of rocky terrain, he spotted movement in the distance—dust clouds rising against the horizon. Through his binoculars, he saw them: a group of raiders on motorcycles, their patched-together armor gleaming in the sunlight.

Kael's heart raced. He pulled the crawler into the shadow of a large boulder and killed the engine, hoping the raiders would pass without noticing him. He watched through the binoculars as they sped by, whooping and hollering, their vehicles kicking up dirt and debris.

Once the dust settled and the raiders disappeared over the horizon, Kael exhaled a long breath. But the encounter left him rattled.

That night, Kael set up camp near an old, dried-out riverbed. He was inspecting the crawler's undercarriage for damage when he heard it—a low growl, deep and guttural. Slowly, Kael turned, shotgun in hand.

Emerging from the shadows was a creature unlike anything he'd seen before. It resembled a wolf, but its fur was patchy, replaced in places by scaly, iridescent skin. Its eyes glowed faintly in the dark, and its teeth glistened with saliva.

Kael backed up slowly, raising the shotgun. The creature growled again, its muscles tensing as it prepared to pounce. Kael fired, the shotgun's roar splitting the night. The creature yelped and collapsed, but the noise had drawn attention. From the distance came answering howls.

"Great," Kael muttered, reloading quickly. He climbed into the crawler, slamming the door shut just as another mutated wolf lunged at the vehicle, its claws raking the reinforced plating.

Kael floored the accelerator, the crawler lurching forward. The wolves gave chase, their glowing eyes visible in the rearview mirror. The chase lasted several tense minutes before the creatures finally gave up, their howls fading into the night.

By the fifth day, Kael began to notice things that didn't sit right.

It started with small details: a set of fresh tire tracks on an otherwise deserted road, the faint glint of light reflecting off a distant ridge, as though someone was watching him through a scope.

Kael adjusted his route, taking detours and doubling back to throw off any potential trackers. He even used some of his smoke bombs to create diversions, but the uneasy feeling persisted.

One night, while inspecting the crawler, Kael found something that made his stomach drop: a small, magnetic tracking device clinging to the underside of the vehicle. He pried it off with a screwdriver and stared at it, his mind racing.

"Dammit," he muttered. Someone had tagged him, likely back in the blank before he'd left.

Kael crushed the device under his boot, then set up decoys using bits of scrap and old tech he'd scavenged. He rigged a small drone with the tracker's remains and sent it flying in the opposite direction, hoping to mislead whoever was following him.

As he drove on, Kael couldn't shake the feeling that the chips were at the heart of it all. The Solver sat locked in a reinforced compartment behind him, the three data chips hidden inside.

What was it about their contents that made them so valuable—and so dangerous?

Kael's thoughts turned to the third chip, the one containing information about bio-engineered creatures. Was that what had attracted the wolves? Was there something in the data that resonated with the mutated wildlife?

Or was it the first chip, with its coordinates and map? Someone clearly didn't want those locations uncovered.

Whatever the case, Kael knew one thing for certain: as long as he had the chips, he wouldn't be safe. But giving them up wasn't an option.

By the end of the week, Kael reached the edge of what he knew to be the blank's outer territory. Beyond this point lay uncharted land—a mixture of faction-controlled zones, neutral territories, and lawless stretches where no one dared to linger.

He parked the crawler on a ridge overlooking the expanse and stepped out, surveying the horizon. The air was cooler here, the landscape dotted with sparse vegetation and ruins of what might have once been settlements.

Kael adjusted the straps on his backpack, the weight of his tools and supplies digging into his shoulders. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what lay ahead.

"This is just the beginning," he muttered.

With that, he climbed back into the crawler, started the engine, and drove onward into the unknown.