“Hey, man—”
“He said for you to shut up!” Raxx glared at Verizon, “Seeing as he just saved your ass, I think you ought to listen.”
Behind the bar, Wentworth ignored the other three. With a practiced hand he lined up the four glasses, then took the bottle and poured a shot of amber liquid into each. He grabbed the water pitcher, and repeated the process. He slid three of the glasses into place with bar stools and looked up.
“Sit. Drink. I’ll sort out the cost of this with Eddie when he gets back.” His eyes were heavy behind the tinted lenses.
Raxx took the far left seat, letting Billy and Verizon sit together. They’d been cowed into silence for the time being, but he could see that Verizon was itching to speak. Raxx decided to play it easy, grimacing as he sipped his whiskey, water back or not, and let Wentworth take his time getting to whatever it was that he wanted to say.
The seconds stretched by. The guards couldn’t figure out what to do with their eyes — their gazes kept darting from Wentworth, to Raxx, to their glasses, then back again. Raxx just watched the three of them, while Wentworth glared impassively into his drink. The song playing on the stereo ended, and a new one started up. Wentworth grimaced, searched for the power cable, and jerked it out. “I hate that song,” he said. Then he breathed out, and looked at the two guards.
“You guys fucked up.”
“Hey man, I wasn’t even involved — that ox shoved me when I was just trying to calm things down—”
Wentworth’s look silenced Billy. He took a slow sip of his drink before speaking. “The first rule of Civie Ops — of the guard duty that you two are supposed to be pulling — is that you’re always operational. You think your job’s nothing more than guarding the merchant on the highways? Well, you’re dead wrong boys. These settlements,” he swept his arm towards the town outside, “are funny. There’s a group dynamic going on in these places. You never know what’s going to set them off. Either of you ever been around — what are they — cattle?”
“Uh — yeah,” Verizon shuffled in his seat. “That’s what my folks do. We got a herd down South between Steeltown and Six Nations.”
“Then you know how if you spook one of them, they all start running?”
“Yeah man. Uh, that happened the first time I took my pup out with me. She got all excited by the new smells, plus, I didn’t know it at the time, but she was just coming on to her first heat. Aw, shit, you should have seen it, Billy — she nipped one of them and next thing you know the whole herd’s running. Man, but my pa was pissed… it took us a week to round ’em back up again…”
Wentworth nodded at the story. “Well boys, that’s what these locals are like. Anything can spark ’em — and then you got a whole mess of shit on your hands.” He looked over at Raxx for comment, but the man just shrugged, and nodded. Wentworth laid his gaze back on the guards. “We’ll just have to hope that what happened tonight doesn’t set them off. Verizon, tomorrow you’ll go apologize to Elmo for talking to his woman. Billy, don’t you say anything.” He gave them a chance to protest, but they were wide-eyed silent. “With any luck Elmo will be feeling bad about what happened.” He stared down into his drink. “The hangover should help with that.”
Tilting his head back he downed the rest of the drink. The other three followed suit, Raxx stayed sturdy but the other two gasped. “You guys ought to get some rack. Tomorrow morning you’ll have to explain to your boss what happened. My advice would be to start off by telling him you fucked up — take responsibility for it. No bullshitting. Then say something along the lines of what I just told you.”
The guards stood sluggishly and made gestures fitting to their abashed expressions. They wandered off to their rooms, and then it was just the two of them. Wentworth refilled their glasses, his eyes heavy on the bar.
Raxx cleared his throat. “That was good of you. What you did just now. You didn’t even know those guys, not really.” He sipped at the drink, “And Elmo… he’s just been messed up lately. He got kicked in the ribs by a mule a while back, and since then he hasn’t been able to work a full day.” He swirled the amber liquid, “I’m not even talking about helping with Elmo. I mean what you said to them just now; I think it’ll be good for them.”
Wentworth paused for a beat before answering. “I didn’t do it for their sake.” His eyes were emotionless as they looked over the glass. “That bit I said about locals stampeding? That’s how it really goes; and if they stampede it’ll land shit-side up for anyone else who isn’t local.” He drank. His glass clinked as he put it down on the bar. He fished around inside his jacket for cigarettes. “That’s not something I need, or want to deal with right now.”
Raxx stared at him, a slow flush rising in his cheeks. He seemed about to speak then shook his head. “You know what? Forget about it.” He went to down his drink, but seemed to have second thoughts as it reached his lips. He grimaced, and put the glass back on the bar. “Your motorcycle’ll be fixed sometime tomorrow,” he said as he rose from his seat, “next day at the latest… so you don’t have to worry about anyone ‘stampeding.’ I’m going to bed.”
Wentworth paused in lighting his cigarette to nod, but Raxx was walking away
The door shuddered close; a slam would have been more appropriate. He poured the Mechanic’s whiskey into his own glass and watched the smoke from his cigarette curl up. The liquid’s level fell, and he filled it again. He stared at it, deep into another time and place. In his mind the scratchy recordings of prewar music still played. When Eddie finally returned his mind was spinning and lost, and a heavy weight lay on him. He left for his room to let the sleep engulf him.
Chapter 7
With the sun setting on his back, Mad Dog breathed the night air. The dead, broken land stretched out forever until it met the darkening sky.
The night was still, its silence broken only by the sounds coming from the compound, and the trudge of footsteps approaching from behind. He waited for whomever it was to declare themself. His thumb was tucked into his beltline, while the other hand fondled his revolver. With the weight of the sun on him he cast an impressive figure — his leathers burned with the dying summer, against a beckoning darkness. A mirthless smile spread across his face as the footsteps came to a halt.
“Mad Dog.”
He breathed before answering. “You smell that, Sheik?” The younger man didn’t reply, waiting for his leader to continue. “The smell of freedom — boundless — it’s out there.”
“We finished searching the building.”
“Good. What did you find?”
“Few hundred liters of petroleum in jerries, the vehicle bay’s all stocked up with oils and fluids, but that’s it. Nothing but chairs and desks in the rest of the place. Oh yeah — there’s a cistern in the vehicle bay. The water’s gone rust-funny, but it ought to be good for drinking. From the looks of it, I’d say that there ain’t been no one here before. We’re the first.”
Mad Dog nodded. “Keep the young lads searching; see if they can find anything else that’s interesting. Tell ’em to search through the desks. If there ain’t been anyone else here — who knows? Maybe they’ll find something. Have ’em clear out a room for sleeping in, too.”
“Sure thing, boss… Say, uh — Falcon said something you ought to hear.”
His visage crackled, “Is he whining about those warning signs again?”
“Yeah, but he said something else, too. He said that it might be a good idea to set up a watch back towards Steeltown. I dunno, it’s been a few days. Seems like it might be a good idea.”
His anger melted into a frown. He’d forgotten about the Vipers. It wasn’t a bad idea to have somebody on lookout, but…
He smiled as the idea came. “Good thing you told me that, Sheik — here’s what you’re gonna do. Go back there and tell Falcon that I like his idea — tell him to get his pack, and to go find a spot where he can see the western horizon. Show him where the sleeping area will be, so he knows where to come get us is he sees anything. And if he says anything, tell him that now he don’t gotta complain no more about those old warning signs. Sound like a good plan, Sheik?”
“Yeah, I think that solves everything up real nice. I’ll go take care of it Mad Dog.”
“You do that, Sheik.”
