LOSS System: Last Store Standing

The two figures Mort had seen were Vane and Thomas.

By the time they reached him, he had already lost consciousness. A long trail stretched across the sand behind him.

Vane and Thomas exchanged a look. After confirming that there was no other movement nearby, they approached cautiously.

Only when they drew closer did they see the wound in Mort’s abdomen. His shoulders and arms were covered in scrapes, and half his body was caked with sand.

Vane frowned and stepped forward, studying Mort’s dust-and-blood-smeared face in the fading light.

Then he noticed the heavy chain hammer lying beside him.

There was no mistaking it.

This was one of the raiders who had attacked Jack’s convenience store.

Vane frowned.

“Why him?”

Thomas looked at him. “You know who he is?”

“One of the raiders who attacked Jack’s place.”

Thomas immediately took half a step back. “What do we do?”

Vane studied the unconscious man without answering. Blood was still seeping from the wound in Mort’s abdomen, and sand covered half his body.

“His name is Mort,” Vane said after a moment. “He wasn’t injured when they retreated.”

Thomas waited for him to continue.

“I don’t know what happened after they left, but if we let him live, he’ll only cause trouble later.”

Vane tightened his grip on the dagger.

“We should kill him now.”

Thomas swallowed. His hands tightened around the iron bar, but after a brief hesitation, he nodded.

Vane raised the dagger.

Before Vane could bring the dagger down, Marg’s voice came from inside the settlement.

“What’s happening out there?”

Vane turned toward her. “One of the raiders who attacked Jack’s place collapsed outside the settlement. He’s badly injured and unconscious. Thomas and I were about to kill him before he woke up.”

Marg looked at Mort but said nothing.

Vane took her silence as agreement and turned back, lowering the dagger toward the unconscious raider.

“Vane.”

The blade stopped.

Marg stood a short distance away, her voice quiet but clear.

“We’re not raiders.”

Vane held still.

Mort was unconscious and unable to fight back. If they killed him now, whatever their reasons, they would be no different from the people they hated.

After a long silence, Vane lowered the dagger.

“You’re right,” he said. “We’re not raiders.”

He turned to Thomas. “Get some rope and a few old belts. We won’t kill him, but we can’t leave him unrestrained.”

Thomas hurried back into the settlement and soon returned with an armful of coarse rope and old leather belts. Together, they rolled Mort over, tied his hands behind his back, and bound his ankles tightly.

Mort groaned faintly but did not wake.

Getting Mort inside proved far more difficult than tying him up.

He was already a large man, and the thick industrial apron added even more weight. Vane took him under the shoulders while Thomas grabbed his legs, but they had barely moved him a few steps before Thomas had to stop and adjust his grip.

They tried again, dragging Mort across the sand a short distance at a time. His boots left two uneven lines behind him, while the heavy apron kept catching against stones and hardened patches of ground.

Neither man said much. They simply stopped whenever their arms gave out, caught their breath, and continued.

By the time they finally hauled Mort through the entrance and onto an open patch of ground inside the settlement, both Vane and Thomas were breathing hard. Sweat ran down their faces, and their arms ached from the effort.

Mort, however, remained unconscious through all of it.

Vane then went back for the chain hammer and left it near the settlement entrance, far beyond Mort’s reach.

Once Mort was secured inside the settlement, Marg crouched beside him and examined the wound in his abdomen, along with the scrapes covering his shoulders and arms.

“He’s badly hurt.”

Thomas tightened his grip on the iron bar. “Marg, he’s still a raider.”

“I know.”

Marg said nothing else and began treating the wounds. Vane stood guard nearby, dagger in hand, his attention never leaving Mort.

The settlement grew quiet. Only the rustle of cloth and Mort’s heavy breathing broke the silence.

After some time, Mort stirred and slowly opened his eyes. His vision was blurred at first, showing him little more than low walls, dim firelight, and two figures watching over him.

He tried to move and immediately felt the restraints around his wrists and ankles. Instead of struggling, he raised his head and waited for his vision to clear.

Then he recognized Vane.

“You.”

Vane’s grip tightened around the dagger.

Mort’s voice was rough and dry. “You’re the one who hurt Jagger.”

Vane nodded once.

Mort glanced down at the ropes binding him, then looked back at Vane.

“You can relax. In this condition, what could I possibly do? Especially with my hands and feet tied.”

Thomas glared at him. “You talk too much. Keep going and I’ll—”

“Thomas,” Marg cut in.

Thomas clenched his jaw but said nothing more.

Marg turned to Mort. “We did what we could for your wounds. Whether you survive now is up to you.”

Mort looked from Marg to Vane.

“What are you going to do with me?”

No one answered.

Mort closed his eyes.

“If you’re going to kill me, do it quickly. Make it clean.”

“We’re not raiders,” Vane said.

Mort opened his eyes and looked at him for a long moment. Then he gave a low, hoarse laugh.

“Right. I’m the raider.”

He closed his eyes again and fell silent.

Vane turned to Marg. “What do we do with him?”

“Keep him tied up,” Marg said after a brief pause. “Tomorrow, we’ll take him to Jack.”

Thomas frowned. “To the convenience store?”

“He attacked Jack’s convenience store, not our settlement,” Marg said. “We’re not the ones who should decide what happens to him.”

Vane turned to Thomas. “Get the cart ready. I’ll take him over first thing tomorrow morning.”

Thomas nodded and went to the back of the settlement. Before long, he returned with a crude handcart.

Vane checked Mort’s restraints and had Thomas secure his wrists and ankles with two more old belts. Once he was satisfied that Mort could not break free, Vane sent the others to rest and stayed behind to guard him.

Jack and the others knew nothing about any of this.

Jack came downstairs with a few sets of dark clothes just as Elias stepped out of the outdoor shower.

Elias had changed into the clothes Jack had left for him, and his hair was still damp. Without the layers of dust and grime, he looked more energetic—and noticeably younger.

Cass stared at him for a moment.

“Elias, you look younger.”

“Shut up.”

Cass wisely closed his mouth.

Jack handed the clothes to Susan and Ray. “Eat first. You can shower afterward.”

Susan accepted them with a quiet thanks, and Ray thanked him as well.

Jack waved it off and set dinner on the table. Once everyone had gathered and taken their seats, Marlin turned to him almost immediately.

“So… about that trade.”