The time to leave arrived sooner than he would have wished, but Chicago was not going to wait until his little fairy tale reached a happy ending. He got up late in the morning, dressing and stretching his still sore body. In the last two days he went from wishing he had died to feeling like every minute spent in the bed was wasteful. He needed to put his newfound energy to use.
Entering the impromptu kitchen, he joined the family's breakfast, tearing off a small piece of Leslie's home baked bread and spreading strawberry jam on it. Much to Michael's initial surprise, preserves of various kinds were not transformed at all. As Leslie explained it, they were used in middle ages already, most often by apothecaries, but apparently that counted for whatever cosmic force was behind all this. She even told him of several ways to preserve fruit and vegetables, starting with pickling and going as far explaining how to make marmalade with honey.
After a quick breakfast, she attempted to hand him a small wrapped cloth, food for the road, but Michael had to decline, he already felt bad for partaking in their hospitality as much as he had. John came to say his goodbyes as well, shaking his hand and wishing him luck on the road, as did Sarah. Michael bent down, ruffling the little devil's hair, promising he would come visit when he got the time.
Soon enough he was making his way through the countryside, trekking towards Warrenville, like John recommended. He wore his usual clothes, with the leg of one of his pants cut off. After Leslie was incapable of washing the blood out, and as far as she knew it was Michael's blood, he had decided to get rid of the part that would certainly draw attention.
While the path to Warrenville didn't take longer than an hour, Andrei obviously considered the walk far too boring for his palette, trying to engage Michael in a conversation.
"We could make our own gang once we return, carve out a part of a city for ourselves," Andrei said, his tone laced with excitement.
"What's the point?" Michael replied, his voice monotone.
Andrei was taken aback. "What do you mean, were you not listening?"
"No," he admitted, eyes focused on the dirt path he walked. "Why would we struggle for power like that?" Michael asked.
Andrei scoffed, "Are you crazy? Do women, money or food mean nothing to you? We could have anything we ever wanted?"
"We can have most of those things without fighting gang wars over them," Michael countered.
Andrei shook his metaphorical head in disbelief. "No, you can only have them if those in power deem you deserving of having some scraps off their table, not what you truly deserve."
"Is this the beginning of a lecture on socioeconomic equality? From you?" Michael asked, his voice laced with sarcasm.
Andrei smirked. "Surprised Michael? I was always a man of the people, for the people."
Michael's expression remained neutral. "Right, especially since you spend so much time killing them, blackmailing them, threatening to burn their livelihoods to the ground if they don't pay you every scrap they can. That doesn't seem very humane to me."
Andrei's face contorted into a scowl. "It doesn't? Isn't the struggle for resources the most human thing you know?"
"No it isn't," Michael replied firmly. "People don't have to permanently struggle for resources, if everyone was content with owning their own piece, they would have peace and stability. There's no need for... evil."
Andrei's frustration grew. "Humans don't want peace, they don't want comfort. Every time they get it, they ruin it for something else they desire," he spat out.
"Bullshit," Michael retorted, his voice steady.
"Being evil, as you call it, is natural. It is simply a trait linked to intelligence, after all there's plenty of species that kill for fun, even torture others of its kind. Humans aren't special," Andrei lectured animatedly.
Michael was about to argue back but before he could his Encyclopedia stepped in, memories emerging in his mind from seemingly nowhere at all. Memories of dolphins killing for fun, playing with bodies of their brethren. Elephants killing rhinos preemptively, simply for knowing they could pose danger. Ants enslaving other colonies, working them to death. Bluefish killing and leaving their prey to rot. Chimpanzees waging war between communities for food and females, torturing captured males to death.
He swallowed, none of that mattered. Humans could conceptualize their actions, they could have morals that stopped them even if they did feel these impulses. He said as much to his prisoner.
"Ha, morals, just another tool created by the weak to control the strong. A powerful one, that much I have to give them, they have fooled many," said Andrei with disgust.
Michael was no longer in the mood for this argument. He cursed himself for talking to Andrei in the first place, knowing nothing good ever came of it.
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Less than thirty minutes passed before they saw signs of Warrenville. The first thing that struck Michael was that it was much bigger than Fermilab Village, an actual settlement, where Fermilab was simply an auxiliary homestead without its own amenities.
Wooden houses and an occasional hut stretched out before him, smoke rising from the many chimneys of the town. A river ran just north of the town, cutting off a couple of houses behind a bridge, turning south just after reaching town center, once again separating a part of the town behind a bridge. Three wide paved roads led through Warrenville, remnants of what once used to be highways, Michael assumed.
But out of all that, what really stood out were the fires. The east part of town was on fire, which was slowly spreading, swallowing ever more of the idyllic place. Small ant-like figures ran around the streets chaotically, the details of what was going on escaping Michael.
He quickened his pace, thoughts of Leslie, Sarah and John filled his mind. He wasn't sure if the townspeople needed his help, but he already owed the people of the area his life, the least he could do was try to repay it.
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Shortly before he reached the town, Michael witnessed people running around westward, panicked expressions filled their faces, as they held their children and whatever necessities they could, trying to make their way out of the town. He had tried to stop a couple, asking questions, but they barely payed him any heed.
Making his way into the town proper, the scene of chaos repeated, this time he watched as people scrambled to grab whatever valuables they could before evacuating. Michael realized everyone was doing the same thing, leaving the town as soon as possible, these people were simply those who were warned later than the rest.
Once again, he tried to stop someone, anyone for long enough to answer his questions. This time he was lucky, a man carefully loading up a carriage pulled by a horse turned to him.
"What's going on? Why is everyone panicking?" Michael grabbed the man by the shoulder, which was apparently a bad idea as the man turned shoving his in the chest. He was not weak, Michael noted.
"Hands off bastard!" he shouted. The man looked ready to fight. "What do you want?!"
"Wait, please," Michael raised his hands in a non-threatening gesture. "I just want you to answer some questions."
"Are you out of your damn mind?" exclaimed the man. "Get out of the town while you still can, they are looting everything in their path," he said as he turned back to his job of loading up his cart.
"What? Who is?" Were some of the bandits reaching out here? As far as Michael knew gangs operated mostly in the inner city.
"Are you daft? Some gangsters, have you not been paying attention for the last couple of days?" he asked, outraged.
"I am not from here, I just arrived, I hoped I could help," Michael replied, now keeping an eye on his surroundings.
The man gave him a long look, Michael waited, hoping he would get more information out of the man, but when nothing came forth, he turned in the direction of the fires. He had to help. Maybe if he organized some sort of defense they could repel the looters? Or at the very least help with evacuation. It was impossible to choose the right course of action with this little information, he had to see for himself.
Storming off Michael was stopped by a sudden call of the man, "Look for Dante Audrey, he leads the neighborhood watch. They went to help Sheriff's men."
Michael gave the man a nod of thanks as he turned back towards the part of the city engulfed by spreading fires.
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As he got closer to the source of the fire, he saw a group of men frantically trying to contain the flames. They were using buckets of water, shovels, and whatever else they could find to try and stop the fire from spreading. But it was too much for them to handle alone.
"Can I help?" Michael shouted, hoping to be heard over the crackling flames.
One of the men turned to him, "Who are you?"
"I'm here to help. Someone told me to look for Dante Audrey."
The man nodded, "He's over there," he pointed towards a group of men who seemed to be coordinating the effort.
Michael made his way towards them, weaving through the chaos of people trying to evacuate and the others trying to contain the fire. As he approached, a tall, muscular man turned towards him.
"Who are you?" he asked.
"My name is Michael. Someone told me to find you. I want to help," Michael said, trying to sound confident.
Dante gave him a once-over, sizing him up. "Alright, we could use all the help we can get. Grab a bucket and start throwing water on that building over there," he pointed towards a house that was dangerously close to the flames.
Michael didn't need to be told twice. He grabbed a bucket and ran towards the house, the heat almost unbearable. He joined the other men throwing buckets of water on the house, trying to douse the flames.
It was hard work, and Michael soon felt his arms start to ache. But he didn't stop. He kept going, determined to do whatever he could to help. The fire seemed to be spreading faster than they could contain it, but they didn't give up.
After what felt like hours, but was probably only minutes, they finally managed to put out the fire. The house was badly damaged, but at least it was still standing.
Michael collapsed on the ground, exhausted and panting. He looked around and saw that the other men were equally exhausted. But they all had a sense of satisfaction on their faces, knowing they had done something to help.
"Thanks for the help," Dante said, clapping Michael on the back. "We couldn't have done it without you."
"What's going on here? I just arrived in town," Michael cried, raising his voice above the sounds surrounding them.
"A bunch of gangster bastards came two days ago, saying that from now on we pay taxes to them, in whatever form they want," he spat on the ground, making clear what he thought of that. "They threatened the mayor and lieutenant but left with tails between their legs, now they are back."
That didn't sound good. "How many are there? What is their strategy?"
"I am not sure, hundred, maybe more? It's hard to tell, they split into several groups. Two of those groups are responsible for the fires, keeping us busy, making sure we can't leave, otherwise the city burns to the ground," he exclaimed, enraged and hopeless.
It was clear he had no idea what to do now, simply trying whatever of the city he could. Michael couldn't blame him, it was a difficult situation. Try and stop the looting and the fires spread, burning down the entire town, stop the flames and the bandits were free to do as they pleased. Bandits' strategy was sound, making Michael wonder if they had tried this before already.
"How big are the groups setting fire to the town?" Michael asked.
"No more than twenty men, each, but we can't hunt them down. If we try to fight them they just run and we can give chase when the town is burning to the ground around us," the man answered, frustrated.
If they were to repel the raiders, the arsonists had to be dealt with first, but Dante's men remained tied down with fighting the fires, he needed a different force.