Chapter 29

Hiding was the regular procedure of not just camps. Most settlements—even those not connected to the Federation—knew how to survive if they did so for a long time. Location mattered, and there were many suitable places in the north, or southern Canada, which wasn't all cold mountains, or freezing lands.

Still, those frozen lands could be good places to live because a lot of Darks didn't like cold. Unfortunately, they weren't great for people's survival either, and not every Dark would follow some expected norms. Living there was not great on a long-term basis or larger scale. Many people tried it before, surviving, and then failing to survive the cold and harsh climate. It was a matter that large investments would fix, though this hemisphere and large-scale organizations thought of much better places than northern parts of North America.

And the stronger the Darks, the less environmental issues they found annoying. Like Walkers, they could become killing machines in the north or south, pursuing anyone, and anything.

Roshwell had great protection and care, even without the frozen lands. Work and good plans allowed them to survive for many years. Involving enough resources to solve hunger and for a large portion of its land, it even fed a good chunk of the Federation.

Forests, hills, and mountains were natural defenses. The camp worked around them, making many surveillance-based Darks less efficient.

Scattered throughout this region were a lot of people taking care of livable lands. For some, it was the true paradise. For a few, it was a priceless piece of land that the Federation had to protect with a lot of Walkers and care. It described an opportunity. A way to go to the greater paradise. Most other camps were unlike that, often taken as a lower priority, or straight-up tossed away if they became impossible to support or protect.

Still, when there were a lot of people, there was a high potential for births of Walkers. It was strategic and killed many flies with one stone.

The size was strength, and the number of Walkers had always been a sensitive and limiting factor for humanity, second to their growth and talents. High-rank Walkers were hard to come by as they were, and every one of them was a crucial person on top of Walker society.

This could not be said in the starting decades when Walkers emerged. The camps and other settlements were more bare, acting as temporary shelters, or they weren't even that prevalent, for there were more bunker societies and fortress-like societies. Only when the Federation began its colonization practices to get more land and people, did resources move to proper lands.

Naturally, people began to move in and accepted their conditions even if they didn't like them. It stunk of the former world, yet it was stupid to refuse the better world.

It was quite an ordeal to operate, which followed the processing stages for many years. Hundreds of thousands of people were quite a volume, and camps such as Roshwell were crucial as the main camp, acting as the biggest dog around the perimeter of the former Canadian and the USA borders.

However, the reality wasn't always about the people. It was about these lands as well. The Federation didn't advance further into the USA, fearing that they would go way too deep. There were many similar struggles in Asia and Europe, with each having a history and many stories described as crazy, hopeful, and brazenly brave. Some failed, and some lived to go forward, surviving at all costs.

William learned some of these stories due to his own research, people that he met on his travels, or basic willingness to see more of this world. So when the Walker world was before him, he couldn't help but waver and grow excited and despondent at the same time. Many parts of him were good; he thought his body was ready, though he wasn't as sure when he thought about it further.

Most obnoxious were his nerves and history with his... purpose. A big part of it was his Emblem that he didn't know. Oh, he feared he didn't want to know. It was gripping him from within, jerking his hand.

Luke drove well even without a road. There was some muddy ground, fallen trees, and hills, which weren't great for vehicles, but it was nothing before his riding skills. The land itself was relatively fine looking, mixing natural vibes with sights of minor corruptions.

It looked as if the earth was poisoned, giving some of the trees a dead look, the soil's distinct dark colors, and silence. There were no birds. There were almost no flowers either. Weeds, bushes, and trees were about it, while insects and very small kinds of animals survived under the soil, in trees, around bushes, or deep in the earth.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

Roshwell's surroundings were about ninety percent safe, though corruption could spread slower because of Walkers, or evaporate them because of some of them, providing this camp the main reason for staying. It was one of the safest heavens in the surrounding hundreds of miles and everyone planned for this to persist.

William remained silent, not speaking to Luke who liked this great ride more than than anything else. He considered the previous push of his Emblem and took it as an unfortunate sneeze. Hopefully, nothing and nobody will find it wrong, for this mission was supposedly a big secret.

He would like to assure William about it. Speaking, or getting any point across was impossible because of the wind and bumpy road. The air had already eaten a lot of his mumbling questions.

That went on until the horizon cleared, giving rise to a surprising sight right aside from one particularly huge hill. They drove for around a quarter of an hour, so they were close to some mountains.

Weirdly, no Darks were close, even when they glanced at that Horde. They might be hiding somewhere, waiting for their chances like hunters.

William gaped. The space before that hill was very open for one good reason. Luke rode forward, and it was even bigger up close. A humongous helicopter was standing in the middle of this plain, protected and attended by a dozen people in similar attire to Luke's.

Luke drove to it and stopped the engine. Sighting, he scrambled his hair and patted his precious toy. He clearly adored it with all his heart, since every movement he could drive it without any care was worth any trouble. There were some scratches and dirt on it, giving it more charm.

He felt it was a shame he couldn't ride it more. Then, there were those cursed guards. Just remembering them changed his face and contorted his eyes. If they had touched it, it would've caused so much more anger. Then, quite more than a single guard would taste some wall. For some idiots to take it from him, that would not happen in a million years.

William understood where he was coming from, and realized Luke's silence and acts were honest, albeit troublesome and strange. Thus, he didn't doubt him. Instead, he doubted his ideas. Why was it so secretive? He couldn't wrap his head around even after one person got seriously hurt.

As Luke walked to his people, William clutched the strap of his bag and quietly followed his steps. His mind and worries lasted a moment until he aimed his eyes at that enormous machine before him. It looked like a building, or a a cold, metallic, large mountain. It was much bigger than he imagined. A dozen-room home might be smaller and some measly motorcycle was a toy in comparison.

It had sets of thick wheels set on the ground, followed by enormous blades that would rotate and lift this tens of thousands of pounds heavy machine.

How?

William heard and learned some rumors about the science behind some of the machines, and it wasn't some magic. It looked so heavy, painted in green, and looked far too new and polished to be old.

As... expected of the Federation. This is an overkill yet something that they could afford. Right? Luke... Is what he had done right? I never heard about helicopters retrieving kids. Caravans, sure. Personal Walker teleports? That is taken for granted. Why not now?

In a blink, a person charged at Luke, greeting him with a quick salute and a weird accent. “Greetings, Captain. Has everything been well and sound? Any headache? How about some... stomachache?” He spoke far too fervently and seriously, all for it to crack when he smiled after Luke kicked him aside.

“For a vice-captain, you sure are naughty,” Luke said. He knew this man for half of his life. He trusted him like a brother. A very bothersome brother.

The man on the ground gave him yet another proper salute. “Glad to hear that. Mind you, this is quite some timing and situation we got here. Who knows, perhaps we will get more than a scolding. A beating, perhaps?” He had such a strange accent that William could not get where he was from. Europe? Accents were hard to come by at the present age where most of the languages became lost. He spoke in English, with bits of some other flavor. He must be from somewhere else or grew up in settlements far away.

“It is just an order. As usual, Zep.”

Zep, whose full name was Szczepan due to his roots in Europe, chuckled and didn't believe his lies. “This one is close to a kidnapping and heist, Captain. Stealing is taught, but isn't it enormous? Wait.. generous? How is it? Anyway, who do we have here?” Zep got up and glared at William who kept his steps from this lunatic whose English was good and whose pronunciation slacking as if he couldn't bother with anything better.

“Whatever we do and did, the boy is here. That is what matters. Is the helicopter ready? I can't wait to sit down and be done with this.” Luke said dismissively, but Zep still glared at William, who shifted his sight from him to the ground level of this machine.

The helicopter had a huge open door, with a bunch of large rooms for cargo, a seating area, and a frontal cockpit that was separate from other rooms, fitting a dozen people alone. The frontal cockpit windows glittered in the sunlight, looking wide and clear.

That was just the start. Up close, it was thirty feet tall and more than a hundred feet long, dwarfing William in weight and splendor of technology.

“Can it really fly?” He asked Zep, who laughed as if he heard the finest joke.

“It could also jump, boi.”

“And bark,” Luke added.

Zep glanced at him in disbelief; he couldn't believe that his captain had made a joke. What happened? Was he kidnapped by Darks and brainwashed on the way to pick that kid?

Zep cleared his throat. “Well, we can start and go at any point. Fuel is secured and people... well, we are yours, so it is fine to assume some people will question it upon our return.”

“Does it sound like our problem?”

“Nay,” Zep chuckled and knew the truth didn't matter. It could only hurt.