It took some convincing from the group to let Angela stay close to the town. Even as they tried to insist there was a human pilot in the machine, the villagers simultaneously didn’t believe them and had no desire to check. Eventually, when the young woman made no show of aggression—instead helping to drag away the scrap metal from the battle—the battered townsfolk gave in.
In all the aftermath, a priest in the town scrambled around to prepare for the multitude of funerals as he, like everyone else, helped with reconstruction. Helmet spoke to the man briefly to arrange a small burial under a tree outside of town.
With details arranged, the group split up. Slacks was given Coats last words and, though he groaned, resized the clothes to fit Angela. He sat down in the yellow Reaper with her, and they bickered back and forth about every minute detail. Helmet left them be, figuring they would be fine. Bandana and Glasses helped clean up in the town, lifting and moving the rubble and helping to bandage anyone injured, and Helmet visited vendors to get the supplies they originally came for. Unfortunately, bullets were not an option, but plenty of food and drink were freely available.
While the older man had not intended to take advantage of his role in the fray, word had already spread around the town, and everyone was thrilled to offer discounts.
“Please, you’re practically giving this away,” he said as he stood before a man regarded as the water vendor. The last thing Helmet wanted was for anyone to think the group had taken advantage of them after they left.
“Not at all! My daughter was on that level when they attacked! Had you all not stepped in, who’s to say what may have come of it!”
Helmet looked at the vendor's daughter, who was wide-eyed and held her arms close to her chest; she had been shaken from the attack; it reminded the older man how he felt the first time—though he had not had the luxury of a calm moment so soon after.
“Fine, but if you won’t take my money, you should at least take my advice.”
“Fair enough; what do you want?”
“Your daughter… and probably many here will need support after the attack. I recommend setting up a group or something. The young ones especially will need some time after this battle.”
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The man looked at his daughter and nodded. Helmet paid what the seller was willing to take before parting to the next shop. The sellers had agreed to deliver everything to the jeep, but that only meant he needed to be cautious and not buy too much; it would be a waste if they didn’t have space available.
“Ah, the town hero!” an old seller shouted from his shop. He smiled, a grin missing multiple teeth.
“I’m hardly a hero, sir.”
“Bah, that’s what all heroes say, at least the real ones!”
“What are you selling here?” Helmet asked as he turned to examine the goods.
“Drinks, liquor, and booze! What will you have?” the man cheerfully answered. Behind Helmet, some other shoppers walked close to inspect the business.
“We can’t be spending too much… what do you have that’s cheap?”
“You want cheap, then I got a bottle of wine here.” The glass bottle clunked on the counter as the toothless man spoke.
“But I got no interest in too much of that pretty money; got anything of real value, hero?”
As the older man spoke, Helmet had already pulled the money out to count. He sighed and slipped the cash away. It was common for the group to meet people who didn’t use the currency shared by the only semblance of government left, but after the battle, he had not come prepared with alternatives.
“No way! He’s the guy who fought the invaders!” the customer suddenly shouted. All heads turned to Helmet.
“That’s so cool! Are you planning to leave town soon?”
“Where did you come from?”
“How are you so good at killing them?”
The questions swarmed Helmet along with the eager people.
“Back off, kids!” the old shopkeeper shouted.
Helmet waved to the others in an attempt to calm them down.
“We’re just a band of travelers, nothing special,” he iterated as the voices hushed.
“Where are you traveling to? Can’t you just stay here?”
“I appreciate your interest, but we are currently on a journey to the city in the east.”
All at once, the crowd gathered around Helmet changed. Some snickered, and others rolled their eyes in dismissal.
“That cities just a fairy tale parents tell their kids!” one shouted.
“No, worse than a fairy tale; at least those stories have moral lessons!” another added.
“You’d be better to stay here in town. We could use magnificent fighters like you guys,” another added with a genuine tone.
The group pleaded with Helmet to stay in their town until it became clear the older man had no intention of doing that. Disappointed and upset, they dispersed one by one, leaving only the shopkeeper behind.
“That city is hard to get to,” the toothless man whispered as he slid the bottle to Helmet. “On me, for the journey.”
“Thanks,” Helmet replied as he took the wine and left the store.