Deadman

Mary stumbled back to be caught by Sampson as if the exertion of her testimony had drained her of all her energy. While she did appear to be worn down compared to when I’d seen her before, I highly doubted she’d been so robbed of her vitality as she made it appear. Sampson gently escorted her back to some seating at the side of the room, helping her to sit down before he himself moved to give his testimony.

“When I met Donovan, I offered him only my friendship and warnings. We shared a meal, stories, and traveled together in peace. During that time, he spoke little, but seemed kind and level headed. In spite of that, he betrayed our hospitality and kindness. I will not repeat what Mary has already said, his betrayal of our kindness has already been spoken. I feel compelled though, to speak as well, as he betrayed me personally, and I feel the keen cut of his actions should be spoken as well.” He shook his head. “To have a knife twisted when it is least expected… such a person would not be welcome in Eden, and I’m certain you here share those standards.” He stepped away, and sat down next to Mary who was still doing an impressive job looking as if she was withering away.

After Sampson was done, a woman I didn’t recognize, wearing a black robe, a cerberus slung across her back, and no left arm.

“I have never met Donovan, but in spite of that he has had a disproportionately negative effect on my life, and everyone else's. I know it is common knowledge, but Donovan is the reason we first came in contact with the Remnants. He aided them many times, finding them information, activating the advanced R.A.S., and helping them to conquer The Republic. If not for him, we wouldn’t be at war. We wouldn’t be at risk. Pott’s would be safe.” She clutched the stub where her arm had been. “His actions have hurt all of us. He doesn’t belong at Pott’s.”

With her piece siad, the woman walked, not toward the bench to sit and observe, but out of the building. Unlike the words of Sampson and Mary, her’s stung. I had been foolish in my dealings with the Remnants, trusting them when I should have been more suspicious from the start, even continuing to work with them after they’d lied to me personally. I had run many of my decisions by the Honored Dead before acting, but that didn’t excuse that they were my actions, primarily done of my own accord. I regretted my trip into the rEvolutionary Virus bunker the most strongly. It was before I’d known I was working for the Remnants, but had I been smarter, more careful, and thought things through then maybe it was something I could have avoided. My lack of foresight might have cost Pott's its future.

At the same time though, I had to consider that even without

my intervention, the Remnants would still eventually come for us. They hated things that didn’t fit into their mold for a perfect America, Deadmen, the Iron Horde, the Kaijin, I couldn’t believe that they wouldn’t have come for all of us eventually. I wouldn’t ignore my role in what had happened already, but the conflict was inevitable, I’d just been an accelerant.

After the woman spoke there were a few more Pott’s natives that came to speak against me. There were none that I’d harmed directly, but many felt that I’d done them or Pott’s a disservice indirectly. I didn’t always agree with what they said, but more than enough of it was valid enough to give me pause. In the end though, it didn’t harm me as badly as it likely would have harmed many others. I was used to being disliked, to being blamed, this was just the most recent example of it, and at least this time there was a much stronger basis in fact.

Once they were done, Julian stood again. “Is there anyone else who would like to speak against Donovan? Who wishes him to be exiled?”

No one rose, and the room was silent for a short period with only the occasional muttering from one of the observers and the sound of Kit writing something down.

“In that case, those who would speak for Donovan may now approach.”

Immediately, I saw more than a dozen people stand and make their way to where they would speak. Their faces were familiar, but I couldn’t place them for the most part. They formed an orderly line, and the first of them moved between the Honored Dead and I to speak. He had a pencil mustache.

“I’m uh, Saul. Sorry, I’m not really sure of how to start this. I’m not a native of Pott's, so I don’t really know all the uh.. Details and such.”

Solomon spoke. “You just need to speak why you think Donovan should not be exiled.” Solomon’s words were curt and I could tell he was eyeing the long line of people waiting to speak with disdain.

“Ah, well,I was a slave. Used to live on the outskirts of a settlement called Derry, in STAR territory. I was uh… sold out by the settlement, people I’d known my whole life, and taken into slavery. The raiders marched me, and a lot of others, across Horde territory. When we were about a mile out of it, I’d accepted what had happened, and given up on living my life unchained. Then, the men and women that had taken us, started dropping like flies. Heads exploded, and me and the other slaves took that chance to fight back. Well, to sum things up, it was Donovan who’d done it. Killed the slavers I mean. He gave me directions to Pott’s, told me I’d be safe here. I’d known about Pott’s of course, met a few undertakers, but never took it seriously. Donovan saved me, gave me hope, and I like it here, a lot, wouldn’t be here without him.” He gestured at about four of the others behind him. “These fellas were with me too. I’m sure their stories would be pretty much the same.” The men and women behind him smiled awkwardly and nodded at the Honored Dead, one of them shooting me an awkward wave I wasn’t sure how to acknowledge. “Anyway, uh, that’s it. I’ll go sit down now.” With that he and those that had been with him went to sit down on the same bench as Mary and Sampson, seemingly oblivious to the hateful stares they were receiving from both of them, and the benches that were empty on the other side.

Next to speak was a woman in undertaker garb. Her eyes were solid black, and she radiated a kind of warmth. She was familiar to me, but I couldn’t place her until she spoke. “I met Donovan twice, and both times were brief. Once while he travelled with myself and other Undertakers in a Caravan on the way to Fette, and the other time was when he was investigating a murder here in Pott’s.” said Rhea, her voice jogging her name loose from the vaults of my memory. “He did some heroic things, including helping us to fight off some raiders, capturing a deadly murderer… I could tell you about those things, or about how his actions have given us immense respect among the Horde and the Kaijin that has made it safer for all Deadmen there, but I only want to mention one thing. While he rode with us, he heard me struggling to feed one of the freshly dead. He took some meat from his own pack, and asked me to give it to the child to soothe him. I did so, and Donovan refused my thanks.” She smiled. “It was a small gesture, but I believe it’s important to mention.”

WIth that she went to sit on the bench opposite of where everyone else had sat. Realizing that they were in the wrong place, Saul and his companions moved to join her.

The next one to speak I recognized immediately, though the last time I’d seen him he had been cursing me, my bloodline, and the earth I walked on. I couldn’t remember if his name was Raven or Crow, but I was glad to see him sane and coherent enough to be up and moving, though I was surprised he was speaking for me. He seemed… bigger than when I’d first met him. He radiated a bit more rads than I was used to sensing, and his scent smelled somewhere between my own and Sampsons.

“I was sent on a mission by the honored dead to investigate a bunker in the Black Woods.” he looked at the crowd. “It’s a shithole if you haven’t heard of it. Full of massive fucking bears and a whole bunch of other bullshit. The Ren’s are nice though I suppose.” He shook his head, as if clearing excess thoughts from it. “Anyway, I went into the bunker, flicked some switches I shouldn’t have, and found myself trapped in a kind of bliss I can’t even begin to describe. I sat there, happy and starving, for days until Donovan came and found me.” He gritted his teeth. “I hated him when he saved me. I cursed him, tried to attack him, and did everything I could to get us both killed… he saved me anyway.” He laughed. “He wasn’t nice about it mind you, but he made sure I was safe, and even made sure my mission could be completed. I’d be dead if it weren’t for him.” He said those last words looking directly at me, and I nodded in acknowledgement as he finished speaking and took a seat.

Another deadman, this time one I didn’t recognize, went to speak, but was interrupted when one of the side doors swung open and loudly slammed against the wall. Through it came Deux, his expression animated and his eyes a little wild. He was wearing his old Undertaker garb rather than an altered band shirt as had become his custom recently, and he walked past the line to cut in front and speak.

“I didn’t miss it, did I? Had to set a playlist going for the triple R so I wouldn’t be playing dead air….Fuck! Dead Air would’ve been a great radio name too.”

Solomon stood. “Deux, take your place at the back of the line. There are others who waited patiently to speak!”

The Deadman he’d cut in front of shook his head. “I’m fine with it actually…I’d like to hear him speak.”

There were nods of agreement down the line.

Solomon gritted his teeth, but sat down. “Fine! Speak!”

Deux nodded, smiling. “First time I’ve ever heard you ask me to talk.”