“Uh, yeah. They were the police, prewar. What I was told growing up was that they patrolled the cities to try and stop the guys with the computers. I heard they stretched out all the way between two oceans.”
“That’s about right. They were part of the old Country — the people trained to use force. They weren’t just patrolling the streets, they were patrolling everywhere — air, sea, space… anyway, that’s where the Regiment came from. We were a military group before the war. Every group’s got their thing, and ours came from that: rank, order, and discipline. We’re — they’re still the military. At least, that’s how they see it.
“After the war we’d kept pretty much to ourselves… we survived using the old tech, and for a long time we didn’t think anybody else had survived, anywhere. Not until five years ago. We called it E-Day… Exodus Day.
“That’s when we moved out. The brass had decided — the bosses had decided — that it was time to start expanding; to try and rebuild and recover what was left…”
He looked around, at the mothers gossiping, the merchants hawking, and the children shouting. He dropped his head, shaking it. “Maybe… I don’t know. When the rubber hit the asphalt the shit hit the bricks. Maybe… maybe we were more ‘military’ than we should have been. Back in the day the troops were married to civilians… normal citizens — normal people… but not us. We were just the Regiment.” Behind his goggles he looked up at the citizens wandering throughout the square.
“We thought we were different. But after E-Day… it was nothing but war. Always a different enemy, but always the same. We thought we were something… but then we didn’t even know what we were.
“See, what we found when we moved into the Vale there was nothing but mess. Prewar there had been two different tribes living there; they’d spoken different languages, but they’d coexisted peacefully, more or less. Until the bomb hit; whatever had been boiling under the surface had exploded, and when we showed up it was still going strong.
“We stepped in on one side, and the other fought back. We started making progress, but then our rear echelon was getting attacked… we pulled back to reinforce them, only then the attack started on our front. It got to the point where every month we were changing plans, changing enemies… it turned into a cluster fuck. Everything was messed up, we didn’t know who was on our side, whose side we were on, and all the slaving and drug running that we’d managed to stop during the first campaign came back ten-fold…
“But the leadership wouldn’t hear any of it. Every day, things got bloodier and bloodier, and they kept firing down the same orders… none of it made a lick of sense.”
He didn’t speak for a long moment. Frozen, he stared at the stone work in front of him. The reverie was interrupted when his cigarette burned down to his fingers. He flinched, throwing it away.
“So I left. I pulled the pin, made my escape. Hell, maybe the whole world’s crazy, but at least now I’m making my own choices. I told you that I have shit following me: well, I’m a deserter. They might not be close, and I don’t know how much they care… but they haven’t forgotten.”
Raxx frowned, “It sounds like you did what you had to, man — they can’t just force you to do something without your say so. That doesn’t make any sense. Your bosses told you to get involved in a mess that wasn’t yours, and that’s bullshit.”
Wentworth shrugged, “Yeah, well, they might see it different. But that’s life; shit happens and you gotta move on.” He grimaced, “We’re nothing but our choices. You choose the behaviour, you choose the consequences.
“So that’s why I helped you. See, if I hadn’t, I would have been nothing more than the label they put on me — a deserter, a derelict. I wouldn’t have had any principles. Instead I chose — chose to help you, just like I chose to leave their shit behind. And maybe — I don’t know, maybe I’m trying to do what the Regiment, the Military, whatever — what it was supposed to do in the first place. I’ve got these skills; I’ve got to use them. Or maybe I’m just a trained killer, and nothing else.” He shrugged. “Who knows? You can’t choose your situation, but you can choose your behaviour. That’s all I know.”
Raxx’s eyes traced out patterns on the paving stones as he thought. “Thanks, man. I appreciate your help back there.”
“Forget about it. We made out alright. Shame no one else did.” He leaned back in the bench.
The city’s life passed by them. A group of children by the fountain were whispering and pointing at the two of them. Wentworth’s cheek moved in the hint of a smile, and Raxx waved. After a whispered the huddle two of them, a boy and a girl, left the group and walked over.
“Are you guys Wentworth and Raxx?” asked the girl. She was bothering a crack in ground with her toe, but staring at the Mechanic defiantly.
“That’s us. What’s your name?” said Raxx.
“I’m Michael. This is Kimberly,” said the boy “Is it true that you killed those bad guys?”
Wentworth glanced over, leaving Raxx to handle it.
The Mechanic leaned forward, glancing left and right. “Have people been telling stories about us?” He wrung his hands and grinned evilly. “I think you made it all up!”
Kimberly crossed her arms. “We didn’t make it up! My mommy was talking with Beth about it. Is it true?”
“A man must keep his secrets!” He drummed his fingers against each other, glancing away. “Besides, don’t you know that strangers can be dangerous?”
“You aren’t scary!” shouted Michael
“Oh yeah?” Raxx jumped up from the bench, “
Wentworth laughed, “C’mon, let’s get out of here before their parents talk you into babysitting.”
They spent the rest of the day exploring the town. Raxx had been through Hope before, working briefly at a metal fabricators that had closed up before signing on as a caravan guard. He pointed out the landmarks to Wentworth. There wasn’t much to see aside from the town square, the residential dwellings, and the ‘factory district’ where he had worked — maybe a dozen shops with two or three workers in each, making anything from furniture to light bulbs to textiles. The town had been cleared of rubble and prewar debris, but the infrastructure showed its age. The sidewalks were cracked, lampposts were streaked, and paint peeled off of the brickwork. Signs of businesses long closed still remained in some places, alongside bleached posters of prewar movies and forgotten rock bands.
As the sun began to sink the two of them made their way to Maria’s home. It was towards the south end of town, down past the Inn. Above the door hung a sign with cursive writing which read Maria’s Herbs and Preserves. As they opened the door it rang a bell.
The store was well lit by the two bay windows on either side of the door, shafts of light beamed down the aisles formed by two freestanding shelves. The air was filled dancing motes and the sharp, heady smell of spices. Towards the back was a counter with a register, behind it a bead curtain going off to the living area. The floor was hardwood, with dusty red carpets running along the aisles
As the bell chimed Maria came in from the back, the bead curtain rattling with her passage. She was full figured with a pretty face, around the same age as Vince. Her hair was mussed and her apron showed that she’d been busy in the kitchen. As she hustled into the room the smell of roast duck followed her.
“Oh, hello there! You must be Raxx and Iain! Come in, come in!” She bolted the front door and ushered them into the back. Raxx raised an eyebrow and mouthed
Vince stood up as they entered, “Good to see you lads! So this is my Maria—”
“Pleased to meet you gents, but I’m sorry, I must head back—”
“—go! You two sit down and have some coffee while she works on that dinner.” Maria gave Vince a peck on the cheek, then disappeared into the kitchen.
They were in a small drawing room, with a couch and a few chairs. Raxx took a seat on the couch next to Vince’s, who was up filling a pair of mugs from the percolator. Wentworth sat in one of the chairs, taking off his jacket and folding it over the arm. Vince was glowing; and couldn’t stop talking. With the occasional prod from Raxx, he told them about Maria, her reactions to what had happened, and bragged about her cooking skills.
“She’s right pleased you decided to come over for dinner finally — it’s her way of saying thank you. So I heard you lads went to look around the town a bit?”
Wentworth sipped his coffee, and balanced the cup on his knee. “Raxx showed me the sights… you know, word must travel fast around here. I heard a story or two about some fellows out in Blackstock, now that you mention it…”
