Read Online Vile Wasteland (A Post Apocalyptic Novel) by J.E. Keep, M. Keep - Free Book Online

pondered that, then in a series of three quick bites
he’d devoured one of the four hotdogs that sat in his basket.
Washing it down with some more of his drink he looked to her,
"Startin’ to make sense to me," he said, looking more
like he was beginning to understand things in general.
    "Really?" her head cocked to the side and she leaned
forward, her eyes narrowing. "Wait, what do you do?"
    Eating some fries as well–the man seemed to devour things at
an alarming rate, but then he’d have to, to be able to maintain
his muscular bulk–he then nodded, peering around them
cautiously, though nobody was near them. "Mercenary, bounty
hunter. Whatever you wanna call it," he said, looking her back
over. "I do the tough shit no one else can. Or who has the balls
to at least."
    "Oh. So you... don’t kill Viles or you do?" she
asked, seeming a bit tense at his admission, though she noticed how
quick he was eating and grabbed a hotdog before he could devour that
too.
    With a bit of a laugh he nodded to her, "I’ve killed
more than I can count," he said, another hotdog disappearing
with a stream of liquor going down behind it. "And I can count
pretty damn high," he stated. Wiping his mouth with the back of
his hand he looked her over, "And then there’s you, fresh
out and you’ve already racked up a kill or two, huh?"
    Her eating paused and she stared at him, "Fresh out?"
she took her wine, sipping more of it down and leaving it half full.
    Nodding to her he continued eating, "You’re one of the
last bunker dwellers or I’m a janitor," he stated, having
apparently guessed her nature by some process in his deceptively
swift brain. "Those pristine clothes. Your perfect good looks.
Never had a blueberry wine before," he nodded, "yeah,
you’re fresh out of a hole. Or from Mars."
    Her nose crinkled as she looked down at the hot dog, "Oh,"
her lips quirked to the side, squinting a bit at him, "I guess
you gotta see this stuff if you’re a janitor."
    That, unlike everything else, managed to crack the unflinching
man. His full lips spread into a wide grin, white teeth showing at
her as he gave a near silent chuckle. "You’re good,"
he said while pointing his cigar at her a moment, "Don’t
even doubt your story about the Viles. You’d have taken all
four by yourself in time, I bet."
    She seemed pleased at his good humour, and she began to eat in
earnest, "Well I only had my knife. They took my gun. The first
one, that is," she pouted. "So.... why’d they take
it?"
    Finishing off the last of his hotdogs he looked her over, head
tilted a bit, and that thick head of hair he wore barely budging with
its consistency. "Viles don’t steal. They kill, they rape,
they pillage, but they don’t steal," he said firmly. "But
here they are, raidin’ this town, leavin’ while there’s
still livin’ folks ta kill, and then... you," he stated,
pointing his cigar at her again. "Stole from you." Mulling
that over, he licked his lips, "So the only explanation is...
they aren’t Viles no more. Not exactly."
    She cringed at the word rape, visibly pulling away before relaxing
once more, though her stomach remained clenched. Yikes. Still,
licking over her lips, she swallowed, "Oh. That’s... not
good? Good? I mean... better stealing than killing, right?"
    Furrowing his brows he looked off into the distance before peering
back at her. "Maybe, maybe not. Maybe it means whatever turned
‘em into those fuckin’ shits they are is wearin’
off finally after all these years. And they are gettin’
something of their humanity back," he theorized, leaning on his
elbows, hands folded, the cigars smoke wafting up in front of his
handsome, broad face.
    "Well that’d be good, right? Except for the stealing
part..." she tacked on, still sounding a bit put out by that
personal loss. Her wine was gone, she had a decent dent in her food,
and she was looking quite grateful at the man’s kindness, even
though apprehension at his words was most dominant.
    It