Day 4748

Bridger’s History Book

These entries have been made after the fact so some of the days may be wrong. But they’ll be close.

We were full Nightrider on the highway as we passed through the Spider Cult’s turf in the canyon. The poor old truck was never designed to take the sort of abuse we’ve heaped on her for all these years. Her engine had begun to smoke as the Spider Cult vehicles moved in. The wind rushed by and we could just make out the sound on the lead car as it accelerated forward, getting into position alongside the old truck. The gunner on the lead Spider car swung his weapon into position and fired, a great black net unfurled and ensnared Crash on the rear of the truck. There was no avoiding it and in an instant, Crash was off the back of the truck and on the roof of the Spider vehicle, wrapped up tight in the net.

That was how it went with all of us, picked off one at a time by the net-guns. Afterward, they gathered up what was left of our vehicles and the remains of the old truck and tethered them to their own vehicles as spoils of the hunt. The ride back in the Spider Culter’s capture vehicle was long, they piled us atop one another, nets wound around so tight we could barely breathe. 

The cult of the Spider resides high in the top of the canyon in a twist of structures suspended from the canyon walls by steel cables, ropes and a network of other web-like materials.

We were striped and rubbed down with sand in an attempt to remove parasites, put in shackles and taken to the ‘throne room’ of the leader of the cult, known as the ‘High Nocturne’. The throne room is an opulent nest of all manner of captured swag and looted treasure from Spider cult raids outside the canyon. In the dim light, I could easily make out trophies from various tribes and clans we had done business with in the past, and there, flanking the Nocturne’s throne sprawled his concubines. 

We would come to discover later that each girl represented a clan or tribe defeated by the Spider cult. The Nocturne didn’t seem to have a preference in age, they ranged from very young to old, but the scantily clad harem did have one thing in common, they all shared the look of utter defeat.

It was the first time I saw Adept. She was one of the High Nocturne's young new concubines. She bore the hallmarks of a recent beating and her eyes said she was far away in her own head.

Many days would pass before I would  see her again, the Nocturne sentenced us to labor in a quarry run by the cult to supply them with raw materials.

Day after day of back breaking labor followed. It was all hot sun and dust in my nose and lungs. About 30 days in, we were all red and chapped from exposure to the sun. Crash was killed in a rock slide on day 40, we dug and dug, but never found his body. 

The morale of the remaining Farlanders was low, as spider cult slaves fell from exhaustion or exposure.