As I Walk These Broken Roads

“He is the—”

“Is he the forgiven?”

“False!” “Yes!” “No!” “Forgotten!” A stuttered response.

“Is he the coward?”

“Yes!”

“Is he lost? Has he sinned without glory? Rutted without pride? Hoped but forsaken? ”

“Yes!”

“Then…” spoken, at last… “What are his wages?”

“DEATH!”

The Catamite surged forward with a scream, snapping his blade mid swing. A red line opened up, and the Shadow shrieked. For a moment all were frozen. The cross lilted backwards.

Then a deep bellow came from within the crowd. The once-brother of the Shadow rushed forward, past forgotten, and swung down with the butt of his pistol. A jet of blood, and a wide growl followed. The violence roared.

Slayer reclined back into his throne, confident at last. One final purging… then truly, they would go to work.

“I have sinned,” said the Catamite, resuming his pose, as the bevy of violence opened before them.

“Yes…” Slayer’s fingers dug into the man’s shoulders, “And now they all do alike…”

The Catamite weakened, melting into him.

Slayer reached over, grabbing hair, pulling the Catamite’s head down toward his own. “It is time to go,” he said.

An arterial spray highlighted Gabriel’s gentle features.

“Yes… my Slayer. Yes… my light.”

* * *

“I can’t watch this. I can’t. It’s wrong.”

He grimaced, “Yeah, it’s pretty rough. These guys’d put the Romans to shame…”

The tone of Raxx’s voice caught up with him and he jerked away from the binoculars. It was hard to tell in the moonlight, but the man looked pale, his face frozen into marble. The shadows of swaying leaves only emphasized his stillness.

At first he was confused, seeing Raxx so unnerved… but then again, maybe he shouldn’t have been so nonchalant about a watching a man get eviscerated. The shrieks were still echoing.

“Listen… I don’t think much more’s going to happen tonight. They’ve done what they’re going to do; now they’ll just burn out on booze. Why don’t you get some sleep, while I keep watch? I’ve got some thinking to do, anyway.

At first Raxx didn’t seem to hear him, it took some time before he nodded. “Yeah. Okay. You sure you won’t need me?”

“Nah, this lot’s had their fun for tonight.”

“I guess so… alright then,” He gave his head a shake, then leaned his shotgun barrel-up over a tree-root. “Wake me if you need anything.”

“No problem.” He went back to his binoculars while Raxx pulled out a blanket from his pack.

Wentworth settled into the night.

* * *

A blackened pit; a kilometre wide gash in the land; an ancient mine squatting in a gear-worked crevasse. Trees bordered on three sides, but in the south-west a jagged cliff sloughed down to a neon-green acid lake. Machines tears, rust, and forgotten poisons left scars on local plant life. A thin mist of exhaust fumes still bled from the earth.

The mine’s structures were still standing; the shacks by the main entrance, the central cluster of hangars, chalky in the moonlight. Scattered throughout were the fossilized remnants of excavation machinery. They hulked like dinosaurs, foreboding and impotent.

Long ago this had been an advance post in mankind’s struggle against an indifferent universe; the local plants and wildlife a casualty in the war against entropy. A century later they were a casualty no more. Now they were a testament.

Along a forested ridge looking down into the mine, Wentworth watched the last stragglers of Slayer’s army succumb to their soporifics. The bonfire had long ago burned down to embers, and a pall was settling over the valley.

Lowering his binoculars, he took in the scene as a whole. A deep breath worked its way through him, as a feeling of sanctuary condensed out of the cool air. He was in a forgotten corner of the world. The darkness of his outfit merged into the surroundings, and soon the small forest noises told him that not even the wildlife remembered his presence. Lying still, he was as untraceable as when speeding down forgotten roads on his motorcycle. Vector was the key: keep the target moving, and limit your opponent’s knowledge — keep the ball bouncing, the talk fast, leave ’em blind and confused! Tonight he was riding a curved road, cutting deep through a hidden valley. An impenetrable gulf separated him from the prying eyes of the world. Tonight he was untouchable, inscrutable, and alone.

A placid smile took over.

To the front his immediate enemy slept without knowing they were watched and hunted — a disparity which doubled the gulf. To his left his rifle shined black and ready; two kilometres to the north-west Raxx’s truck waited, hidden under the hangs of a willow. The vectors were smooth. Confident in this brief freedom, he waited through the silent hours, observing and analyzing.

Pulling out a notepad, he jotted down what he saw.

The freedom of solitude.

Chapter 21

The sun cracked the horizon with its ancient, unforgiving rays. The chirp of morning birds followed, setting off a slow-burn in his arteries, and an ache in his cartilage. A deep greyness weighed heavily on his eyes, and the light was too sharp. His teeth felt musty. The dawn’s gradients of renewal washed down on him like slaps to the psyche.

The Mechanic had been twitching for over an hour. With a final jerk, he rolled over into a tense pose. He was not yet awake; face stony, eyes ticking. Internal metrics were measuring and quantifying. Wentworth watched him with a mild umbrage.

Gradually Raxx’s pose softened and his eyes grew lucid.

“Sleep well?”

Raxx considered this, worked his jaw and grimacing. “Well enough.”

Wentworth nodded. Down in the mine site, their opponents were still lying where they’d passed out the night before. The growing light seemed to emphasize the wreckage of last night’s party, as the rays made their pass across the valley.

“Should be bright enough now…” He pulled out a pair of cigarettes and lit them, passing one over. He remembered the man leaving his cigarillos in the truck.

“Thanks.”

Wentworth nodded, then retreated into himself. He took his first drag — he’d only puffed when lighting them — it sent a wave of blood rushing up his spine. It was almost painful, this sudden infusion after hours of withdrawl. Shards of iridescence blossomed in his mind, activating each neuron. He rode the wave of dizziness, the outer layers of his cortex vibrating, until the second and third drags brought him back down to normal. He opened his eyes and looked at the world, smoke curling against his skin. The light’s angles were no longer so drastic.

He finished his cigarette and ground the cherry into the earth. After shaking off the loose tobacco he tucked the filter into his pocket. By this time Raxx had already started assembled the implements and ingredients for