As I Walk These Broken Roads

don’t want to hear no whining about hangovers! I drank twice as much as any two of you put together, so suck it up!” This brought some laughs and a few punches to burned shoulders as they remembered the party. “We won — we got these vehicles and we got our freedom!” A cheer. “We got power!” A louder cheer, hooting and clapping. “And there ain’t no boss-man saying we can’t use it. The only boss-man here is me, and I’m only gonna tell you to hit ’em harder! Ain’t that right, Falcon?”

“Uh, that’s right Mad Dog.” Falcon’s response elicited another round of jeering and laughter. The Hounds’ eyes glinted, their hangovers forgotten.

“The way I figure it, we got at least a day or two before anyone back in Steeltown sorts themselves out. So we’re gonna keep heading east. What they say about the wasteland sounds like bullshit to me, the maps show plenty of old cities out that way. But old Falcon here thinks different — ain’t that right, Falcon?

“All I said was that we ought to look at all those merchants, and where they’re moving about.”

“You hear that boys? He ain’t got no confidence! He can’t get all that ‘merchant’ shit out of his head!”

“Oy, all I was saying was—”

“Shut the fuck up, Falcon, Mad Dog’s talking!”

Sheik’s crew cheered him on, and Mad Dog grinned, gloating as Falcon simmered.

“Shut up all of ya!” he yelled, once they’d laughed enough. “He’s got that badge on his shoulder, don’t he? Even if it ain’t properly on his shoulder!” There was a round of subdued laughter at Falcon’s flak vest. “So here’s what we’re gonna do — we’re gonna keep travelling ‘till we find some farmers — and their daughters! — and then we’re gonna set up something good for the Hellhounds and forget about those merchants out west. Fifteen minutes, we mount up! Get moving, Hounds!”

He could feel the hangover receding as he contemplated his purpose. As he waited for the others to get ready he stared up at the sun, challenging it. He was tensed and waiting. A roar was building up deep in his soul. All he needed was someone to unleash it on.

* * *

The roar subsided as Wentworth killed the bike’s ignition. “So what do you say, think you can figure out what’s wrong with her?”

Raxx stroked at his goatee while his truck ticked with cooling oil. “I’m getting a feel for her — I can already tell you that there’s a sparkplug misfiring — one of the ones on the right — but the whole engine configuration’s new to me. What I’d like to do is take my time, and work out all the details from the ground up. Slowly, so that I don’t make any mistakes. Disassemble and reassemble the engine, on my own time. But that’ll take a while. How long can you stay in town for?”

“How long are we talking?”

“A few days. Maybe a week. Is there somewhere you’ve got to be?”

“No… not exactly. I can wait — what’s important to me is that she’s up and running again, one-hundred percent. You seem like a straight up guy, and I think I lucked out running into you. I’ll wait a week if that’s what it takes, rather than have it break down someplace where nobody’s got a clue.”

“Sounds good. Tell you what, since I’m getting a learning experience out of the whole deal, I’ll top off your fluid levels too, free of charge.”

Wentworth nodded slowly. “Alright.”

A sudden yawn caught Raxx, and he covered it with his fist. “What time is it, anyway?” He stepped out of the garage, and looked up at the sun. “Huh. Just about noon. You want to grab something to eat? I need food or my brain box stops working.”

“Sure. You got stuff here?”

He shook his head. “No, I’ve never been good at that. One of the locals does a lunch run for the farmers, though. Her name’s Tracy; she brings out sandwiches and juice for them. She does all her prep work at the market, and I head by there sometimes when I’ve forgotten to stock up. She should still be there, and it’s on the way back to Landfall’s.”

“Right on. Let’s go.”

* * *

“Yo, Billy!” Verizon wandered over to the cargo trailer, scratching idly at a bug bite on his arm. “There’s the cutest little redhead working in the office over there! She’s got those weird tattoos like everyone else here, but I’ve got to tell you’—” he nudged him with his elbow, “I kind of like it!”

“That’s great, man.” he paused in cleaning his rifle, and put it down on the cargo behind him, “Any word on what’s going on with Vince?”

“What? Vince is fine, no problems. What do you mean ‘That’s great’? I was giving you an opening there, Prince Billington — I figured green and red would go nice together. But if you don’t wanna jump… I can always take your place.”

“Dude, we’re only here for a week.”

“So? You know what they say ‘bout these small places…”

“And what’d that be?” he scratched at the stubble growing in on either side of his mohawk. It might only be midday, but he was tired and looking forward to that pint Vince had promised.

“They say that the men like the mules, and the women sleep alone!”

“I thought that’s what they said ‘bout you and your ex-girlfriend.”

“Maybe with your mother — on her trampoline! Oh! Seriously, though, Billy, you’ve gotta make the most of these oppor-tuna-ties — locals are always looking for some new blood!”

“Nah man… I got a girl back in Hope. Met her a year back when I was working for the Stanson company. Can’t be doing nothing while I’m here.”

“Shit, man, you didn’t say nothing! What’s her name? Maybe I know her.”

“I’d be wagering that you don’t know her.”

“That ain’t what I meant!”

Billy chewed his lip. “Her name’s Arel. Uh, here,” he shifted his weight and reached into his back pocket for his wallet. “I got a picture of us.”

He pulled out a sepia-toned photo wrapped in plastic and handed it over to Verizon, who lifted up his aviators and examined it thoroughly.

“Prince Billington… If I ain’t mistaken, this ain’t no charcoal sketch. What we got here is one of those high- end chemical pics — the full woozle-caboozle, usually reserved for them married rich-folks and Petrolians. You really like this girl, doncha?”

“Yeah…” he looked down and went back to cleaning his rifle, “It was a Valentine’s Day present I got for us. Her family’s the florists out in Hope. They ain’t too keen on their daughter shacking with some caravan guard, so that’s why I’m trying to save the bucks to get some cargo to take down south, for the next time I’m with a proper caravan.”

Verizon whistled, and handed the picture back. “You’re an ambitious boy, my Billy-O. But I thinks I know why — I saw her in the city square before tacking on with Vince here. She’s a sweetie, alright. You could just tell by the way she smiles.”

“Thanks,” he put the picture away and leaned back, elbows up on the cargo. Verizon jumped up and sat next to him taking up the same position.

“Oh ya, I was gonna say; Vince is having some sort of conversation with the Councilman. Red said they’ll be a while — Hey, that rhymed!”

“Think we ought to start unloading?”

“Hey man, it ain’t like we know what Vince wants done with all this stuff.”

“Yeah, that’s true.”

They sat there, shooting the breeze, nodding at the locals, and watching the shadows drift, until Billy jolted forward. “Hello! Is that who I think it is? Hey, Raxx! Is that you?”

“Huh? Bill… Billy? Oh, hey man, how’s it going?”

Raxx walked over to the trailer, and the two guards jumped down.

“I haven’t seen you in ages,” said Raxx, shaking his hand. He glanced over to the man next to him. “Billy and I worked some of the same caravans a while back. That must be, what — almost two years back? This here’s