Day 486. It’s all nonsense.


Frank T. a waste within the wasteland.

Sometimes, no matter how hard you try and how much you wish you could display some humanity, you can’t.
There is nothing wrong with that. We all have the right to think and feel as we please, as long as we keep matters within boundaries of our mental world, things are sure to be safe if we follow that rule. The problems might start occurring when the imaginary world starts to spill outside. I had done my best so far to avoid that.
Travelling along Nick was much more pleasurable than I originally thought. At times we could travel in silence for hours and I would feel comfortable, other times one of us would spin a yarn while the other would chip in with ‘ahs’  and ‘ohs’ or some direct questions and the time would fly…
The moment of cold hard waking up caught up with us though when Nick said: “I don’t know about you, but I really struggle to see this happening for much longer. Although ‘longer’ is quite a relative term. I think what I’m trying to say is, where are we heading?”
And that was that. We stopped in abandoned shack to catch some shadow and I told Nick that at the moment my objective is to walk and look for any lost sign connecting me to my past no matter how idiotic it might sounds. Nick nodded his head and whispered that it was ok but I could see his synthetic body kind of shrugged…
Next thing was me asking him what his plans are and the response wasn’t something I’d expect as nick said in his fairly monotonous voice: ‘I don’t really know. I’d like to find at least a scent of old type of community and settle there to get busy with becoming a detective again. On the other hand, I’d be comfortably happy in knowing that you’d feel OK with pulling the cord and turning me off… Forever…’
And just like that the doom and gloom was back but somehow me and Nick were happy to get these little things out of our chests.
I assured Nick that I’d give a serious consideration to his request of turning the lights off and he seemed content with what came out of my mouth. Well. The world was what it was and there was no need to go around the bushes. It was too late for that.
We decided to set ourselves around that fairly well constructed shack. After a bit of inspecting we realised there was more to that than just a shack. There was a manhole that led us to a little space underneath and here we came across a bed and Frank Tank.
As funny as the name sounded Nick displayed some signs of irritation and anger. I asked him what about these bones made him unsettled and he told me he knew Frank Tank. Not directly but from words of the folks around Nick from, perhaps 30 years ago.
As it turned out, Nick was asked to investigate a fella who was a pimp, a nasty piece of abusive shit and a piss head. Nick never managed to track Frank or even be hundred percent sure what piece of nasty work he was but the pieces of info he managed to find was leading to plenty of abuse, especially towards young girls.
It didn’t surprise me that Nick went after every single piece of evidence like a hungover sailor would go after a bottle of rum, I even offered help but Nick was just in his element and I decided to let him get on with it.
While Nick was getting all dirty on all fours I was checking stuff that Nick had already disposed off and there wasn’t much really. For my simple mind it would work out that Frank Tank had an unhealthy relationship with alcohol and rude approach towards people…
Nick was finally done and he looked accomplished. It was nice to see him ‘happy’ if that state was actually possible for Nick to achieve. I’ve asked him what he found and he replied that it appeared to be his suspected pimp and an abuser and he was glad he was dead. He was poisoned by his ‘girlfriend’ who added some toxins into his booze and then she had her way with him…
I don’t know how Nick managed to work it all out but he shared some light into it by showing me a faded picture of the girl, that had handwritten note at the back. I hope you fry in hell forever you small dick wanker.
Nick explained some stuff he learnt during his work and what led him to conclusion of murder by incapacitation and then torture. He said if we had been here earlier (like 20 years or over), there might be a bit more to go around and to find out how she finished him off but he was certain his ‘last lover’ was the end of Frank Tank. The piss head, abuser and a total waste…
I really felt nothing but pleasure knowing the justice was still able to exist in this crazy world and that it was still being handed out well.
Next day, me and Nick took off, wondering what happened to the girl named Amanda. It looked like it was going to be a radiation rain day soon so we chose an object in fairly close proximity for our next adventure or rest point.
Nick seemed to be a new born person…


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