The first light of dawn was painting the bruised sky in hues of grey and soft orange as Ryder stepped out of the inn. The air was cool, carrying the scent of damp earth and woodsmoke.
His few belongings, including the things townspeople had given him, were already tucked away in his Storage. He moved through the town square, its familiar disarray now a backdrop for renewed activity. Several townsfolk, early risers like himself, spotted him.
The merchant whose stall had been partially crushed offered a solemn nod. A pair of guards gave a quiet salute. A family, huddled around a makeshift cookfire, looked up, the children's eyes wide.
"Safe travels, Savior," one woman waved Ryder farewell.
"Thank you again, Savior," another added, a man whose arm was bandaged.
Ryder returned their nods, offering brief, polite responses. "Take care."
The title of "Savior" still sat uncomfortably on his shoulders, but their gratitude was a warmth he was learning to accept.
Reaching the tattered outskirts of Crowpoint, he paused, casting one last look back.
The settlement, scarred but standing, was already fighting its way back to life. He admired their tenacity, the way they faced the devastation and simply began to put things right.
He walked on, putting a fair distance between himself and the town. Hessa's advice about discretion echoed in his mind; Betsy was an anomaly, and the fewer who witnessed her manifestation, the better.
"Alright, Betsy," he said, his breath misting slightly in the cool air. "Coast is clear. Time to roll."
He focused, reaching out with his will. The air before him shimmered, rippling like a heat haze over asphalt. A low, almost sub-audible hum grew, coalescing into the familiar, throaty rumble of a powerful diesel engine phasing into existence.
It culminated in a solid THUMP as massive tires met the dirt road. The red-and-chrome titan, Betsy, stood before him, its paintwork gleaming even in the diffuse morning light.
Ryder walked to the driver's side, the polished handle cool beneath his fingers. He pulled the heavy door open and was about to swing himself up into the cab when he paused.
Something was different. On the back wall of the cab, behind the bench seat where only solid paneling had been before, was a door. It looked sturdy, integrated seamlessly into the truck's interior, its metallic finish matching the rest of the cab's trim.
"That's new." This had to be the access to the Basic Sleeping Quarters and Kitchen he'd purchased from the System.
As he was processing the no addition, a movement in the passenger seat made him jump, a surprised grunt escaping him.
Betsy's holographic form was there, but not as the figurine-sized hologram he was used to.
She was projected at full human scale this time. Now a blonde woman in practical denim overalls, she looked so convincingly real, she could have been an actual person casually occupying the seat.
"Whoa! Betsy?" he managed, his heart still thumping. "You're... bigger. And a lot more real."
Betsy grinned, a flash of amusement in her projected eyes. "Decided to stretch my legs, hotshot. And yup," she gestured with a thumb over her shoulder towards the new door, "that's the V.I.P. entrance to your new digs. Like the new setup?"
Ryder took a moment, then shook his head with a small, wry smile. He was slowly getting used to the constant stream of surprises that this new world kept presenting.
He'll explore the new quarters later. For now, the open road called.
He climbed into the driver's seat, the scent of diesel and worn leather from Earth was a comforting presence. The massive steering wheel felt good in his hands.
With a press of the button, the diesel engine truly rumbled to life, the whole cab vibrating power. He shifted the rig into gear and pulled Betsy smoothly onto the dirt road heading east.
"This road's surprisingly smooth, considering it's just a dirt track," Ryder commented as they picked up speed.
"That's because you're riding on my superior suspension, sugar," Betsy replied, from the passenger seat. "Only the best for my driver."
They drove in comfortable silence for a while, the landscape unfolding around them. Rolling hills gave way to denser patches of forest, the trees alien yet familiar in their basic forms. In the distance, the hazy outlines of mountains touched the sky.
"You know," Betsy said after a time, "I am the best self-driving truck there is. I can take the wheel if your arms get tired."
Ryder considered it. "Appreciate the offer, Betsy. But no thanks. Driving a rig like this, out on the open road... it's something I always wanted to do." A rare, fleeting glimpse of his past surfaced. "Back at the orphanage, it was the one thing I could picture, the one choice that felt like my own."
He paused, then added, "But... I wouldn't mind if you took over driving tonight while I check out that new bedroom. We can make better time that way."
"You got it," Betsy chirped. "Teamwork makes the dream work, right? And trust me, it's king-sized comfort in there. No bedbugs, I guarantee it."
As they journeyed, Ryder kept an observant eye on their surroundings.
Brightly colored birds with elaborate plumage took flight from the trees. Herds of deer-like creatures, their coats a mottled brown and grey, grazed peacefully in distant meadows, their heads snapping up to watch the truck pass before bounding away into the undergrowth.
It was a soldier's habit, to scan and assess, but also a growing curiosity about this new world. The sense of freedom was palpable, the vastness of the open road a welcome change, yet always underscored by the awareness of being an outsider in an alien land.
A few hours into the journey, as the landscape grew wilder and more untamed, the newly acquired Mini-Map, a translucent overlay in the lower corner of his vision, flickered. Several small, red dots appeared, moving erratically on the road ahead.
"Betsy, got contacts on the map," Ryder said, his tone sharpening slightly. "Looks like they're right on our path."
"Yep, see 'em," Betsy confirmed after a moment. Her holographic form leaned forward slightly, as if peering through the windshield. "Small pack of corrupted critters, looks like rabbits from their energy signature, but meaner. They're chasing something bigger."
"Corrupted critters?" Ryder asked.
"Primordials, even low-class ones like that Class 6 back in Crowpoint, leak a kind of corrupting energy, Leaves a residue too." Betsy replied. "Most settlements do regular sweeps to clean it up in their immediate area, but out here in the wilderness stuff festers."
She paused. "Sometimes it warps the local wildlife. Twists 'em up, makes 'em hyper-aggressive, like those bunnies we're about to see. They don't last long, mind you. The corruption eats away at them from the inside out. But they can do a fair bit of damage before they burn out."
As they came around a curve in the road, Ryder saw them as well. A small group of filthy, red-eyed rabbits were snarling with unnatural anger. Their movements were jerky and strangely fast. They were chasing a larger, panicked deer-like animal, which was running for its life down the center of the road.
"Low-grade corruption, just like I said," Betsy commented, her voice calm. "Annoying, but not a real threat to us. You can just run 'em over, hotshot. Consider it pest control."
Ryder pressed forward, keeping Betsy steady on her course. There were a series of dull thumps as the truck's massive tires met the corrupted rabbits. The larger animal, startled by the sudden demise of its pursuers, veered sharply off the road and bolted into the dense underbrush, disappearing from sight.
Apart from the brief encounter with the corrupted rabbits, the journey remained uneventful.
And in just one day, they had covered roughly two and a half days' worth of distance marked on the map.
The sun dipped below the horizon. Betsy's headlights cutting through the gloom.
The only sounds were the truck's engine and the chirping of nocturnal creatures. The rhythm of the night drive settled in, and Ryder felt the long day catching up to him.
"Alright, Betsy," he said, stretching his shoulders. "Think I'm about ready to see what that new bedroom is all about. You good to take over?"
"Roger that," Betsy said, giving a crisp nod. "Enjoy the presidential suite. I'll keep us on the straight and narrow. If nothing crazy happens, we should arrive tomorrow when you wake up."
"Alright, appreciate it."
Just as Ryder was about to unbuckle his seatbelt and check out the new bedroom, a sound pierced the night, sharp and desperate.
A scream. Unmistakably human, laced with pure terror.
It was followed by a frantic cry, words tumbling out in a rush of panic.
"OH COME ON, PLEASE WORK, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!"
The sound seemed to come from off-road, somewhere in the darkness ahead and to their right.
Instantly, Ryder was alert. Every trace of fatigue vanished as adrenaline surged through him. His hand, halfway to the buckle, froze.
"Betsy! What was that? Pinpoint it!" he snapped, his eyes already scanning the impenetrable darkness beyond the reach of the headlights.
"Detecting multiple corrupted life signs, small to medium, moving fast. One non-corrupted humanoid, female, high stress readings. She's being pursued! About one hundred fifty yards, one o'clock!"
As if on cue, a cluster of red dots appeared on the mini map.
Ryder quickly turned Betsy toward it, focusing Betsy's intense headlight towards the direction indicated.
The headlights cut through the trees, landing on a horrifying scene. A young woman, clothes torn, ran for her life.
She was frantically hitting a sci-fi-looking hand cannon, sparks spraying from the malfunctioning weapon.
Behind her, feral, corrupted wolves with glowing red eyes bounded forward, their matted fur and exposed muscle glistening under the light.