Vice Bunker 59 (Patreon)

A/N: It’s been forever since we updated this guy!

Vice Bunker

Chapter 59

-VB-

My decree of implementing a tiered citizenship did not go well.

The immigrants didn’t care that they had little to offer me and the original residents of Brockton Bay. They didn’t even consider the situation’s slowly failing logistics. 

They just screamed “Murica!”

No, like, literally. Some of them were out in the cold streets and inside the bunker on both sides of the bunker door and screamed “This is America!” 

Like…

People.

Look outside.

America’s dead and you killed it. You elected politicians who would rather save face than deal with problems. Who couldn’t think ahead. Who didn’t want to think ahead because that was actual work and more than half of the politicians you elected didn’t want to work.

Look at the winter apocalypse. Paying off a tinker a billion dollars would have been better than this! But no, the politicians and leaders you elected didn’t. 

Instead, they let it happen because they had to save face and didn’t want to understand Crazy Americans™.

I told them as much and also ordered them to disperse lest I, the eldritch god-king of Brockton Bay, decide they make better treats than sugar candies. 

And to my own surprise, the majority of the immigrants agreed with me. Sure, they had been kicked out from Alexandria’s protection, but here I was, giving them shelter and food for free. Who the fuck were the bitchass protestors trying to piss me off and take what little they got away from them? Who cared if the nutrient paste tasted like ass? They got a climate-controlled room, bed, and even entertainment for free.

It also didn’t take long for the latter group to start bullying the former group. 

And the longtime residents got in on it, too.

And I didn’t stop them.

Why would I? There was no violence, yet. No one was denied food. No one was being denied shelter. The idiots were simply turned away from any groups that weren’t similarly idiotic. 

And soon, one by one, the smarter idiots began to bleed away. The protests got smaller and smaller until there were only a handful of them left. 

That’s when I struck.

Those who remained behind after all others had left were to be exiled. 

-VB-

Danny didn’t like this. 

It reminded him too much about how things were like in Africa… but at the same time, he also understood why Alan was acting this way. 

He stared at the people who were crying and screaming as the few “soldiers” who were in Alan’s employ moved to push them out of the city. Thankfully armed with stun batons and riot shields instead of bayonet-fixed rifles, they pushed at first with their shields and only struck when the dissenters struck back.

Even then, it was brutal. 

Yet Danny couldn’t disagree with Alan’s decision. 

These people were useless. When everyone else was working to provide what little they could compared to Alan’s vast body, minions, and his wives (which included Danny’s own daughter), these people did nothing but protest against Alan while eating the very food Alan gave them. 

They were useless. 

No, they were worse than useless. They were detrimental. 

They wanted it their way and no way else. They wanted change like how they wanted it without compromise. They wanted, they wanted, they wanted…

And they got nothing because they never worked for it. 

Even back in the good old days, Danny knew that protests only worked when the protestors were useful people. 

Did anyone care about homeless people protesting? No. 

Did anyone care about the dockworkers protesting? … No, because their usefulness had died the moment Leviathan revealed itself. 

Did anyone care about these idiots protesting? No.

Actually, yes.

It made the rest of the people mad. 

And it was why the soldiers were deployed, because if Alan allowed the people to do what they wanted against these unwanted idiots, then there might be blood in the streets. For all of his strict harshness, Alan wasn’t evil or cruel. Just dismissive and definitely “better-than-you-so-listen-idiots.”

And finally, someone threw a rock.

Danny almost didn’t catch it happen, and when he did, he saw that it wasn’t one of the young people who had grown accustomed to Alan’s rule but one of the old people. 

Old Jerald, actually. 

“Shut the fuck up, you dipshits!” Jerald shouted hoarsely before picking up another rock. “You shits don’t do anything!” 

Danny moved to stop him, but Jerald’s shout and action had done it.

It broke the dam.

The soldiers, realizing what may happen how, quickly turned half of their shields against the people who’d come out to watch the banishment. Rocks started getting thrown. One of the idiots got hit. 

People got angry.

And then -.

“Disperse.”

Everyone stopped when Alan’s booming voice echoed from all around them, and one of the Walkers stepped out. 

It was a giant thing, and though Danny had seen one before in the distance acting as a “comm relay” for Alan’s many autonomous minions, it was something else to see it right up in their face. 

It was a gangly thing that no snow would stick to. Taller than most of the buildings around them. It had a satellite dish on one side of the pole-neck and a horn-siren on the other side.

There was a giant mouth inside that siren.

“Leave,” it growled. 

The people hesitated before they did as they were told. A few idiots among them stayed to throw one more rock but even they left when the Walker turned to look at them.

And finally, the idiots understood. 

This was the City of Benevolent Horrors where the things that go bump in the night ruled and gave shelter to the weak, frail humans who’d ruined their world. 

The idiots finally understood.

But it was too late. 

They left in fear with their meager belongings and left back towards New York.

They never made it to New York City.