Aftershock let out a gasp, curling his teeth over his lower lip.
“When you get to Diablo, please avoid becoming a nurse.”
Jenny ignored him, tearing the denims away to get a look at the damage. Rough and bloodied holes lined the back of his leg. They weren’t too deep but were large enough to make her stomach flutter.
“Going by that look, are things bad?” he asked.
“I think it looks a lot worse than it is.”
“Famous last words,” Aftershock grumbled.
Seizing her rucksack, Jenny started tending to him. She pulled out the canteen along with a small bottle of whiskey. Using the water to rinse her hands, she followed up with a couple splashes of alcohol. Then, taking a clean cloth from the bag, she applied gentle pressure to the holes.
“So, the man I killed…”
“He was known as Dante. Honestly, I don’t even know if he had a last name or where he came from; not that it matters now that he’s worm food. What I do know is that he was leader of the fine group of bandits that tried to kill us.”
“I thought as much. The big armor gives it away.”
“Yeah, maybe I should break my old Skinner gear back out. Less narcissistic than the crap he has on, though.”
Jenny tried to imagine Aftershock in a set of overelaborate armor, but what she visualized was more silly than intimidating.
“Yeah, yeah laugh it up,” he continued, seeing her expression, “but I wasn’t too bad back then. Anyway, that ruthless son of a bitch came into power over the Devil’s Shadow about, hmmm, four years ago now. The area was being shook up by some expansion efforts out of Diablo. At the time, the gang was a lot weaker and ripe for a takeover. However, from the stories I heard, confirmed with my own eyes today with him killing his own man, Dante’s rise to power was fast but fueled wholly by fear.”
“What’s that mean exactly?”
“Means good luck for us, especially now that you killed him. The gang isn’t likely to finish carrying out his orders now; we’d probably be dead if they were. You see, for a raider fear is essential but it only gets one so far, the rest needs to be sustained by respect, amongst other things. I can tell you that there’s no respect for him here, because he had absolutely none for them.”
Once the bleeding stopped, Jenny took a quick look at the squabbling raiders, seeing what Aftershock meant by the way they defiled their leader’s body. Brushing away the grime collected in his wounds, she rinsed the area with more water afterward.
“There should be some lutrine salve in the sack,” Aftershock said tersely.
Jenny opened the bag, rummaging through it. She didn’t see it immediately.
“It’ll be in a small jar,” he clarified. “Probably fit inside your palm.”
Jenny found the little container soon after, removing it then unscrewing the cap. She scooped out a Cog-sized portion of the creamy substance – it smelled a bit citrusy – and slathered it over the injury. She repeated the process three more times to get good coverage before dressing his entire thigh.
“You’re going to have to get more salve, but nonetheless you’re taken care of,” she said spritely.
“Thanks.”
“Can you try and stand? We need to get a move on.”
Aftershock slowly sat himself up, refusing Jenny’s attempts at help. Scooting around, he slumped his back on the dead body while avoiding the spikes and took a deep breath.
“Gosh, he already stinks,” Aftershock said, reaching over to pull out his knife. He caught another whiff of something foul and cautiously raised his own arms. “Well, shit, it’s me.”
Jenny wasn’t fooled by his attitude, able to see Aftershock’s face riddled with stress plain as day.
“You are all right to walk, aren’t you?” she asked.
Aftershock was picking little pieces of debris out of his beard, but before he could say anything, Jenny was already answering for him.
“You aren’t able to, are you?” she asked, her voice breaking.
Aftershock finally shook his head. Jenny looked upset.
“Oh come on, it’ll take more than some gaudy armor to knock me out of commission,” he said, “but, for the time being, I need to get some rest. That’s down time you unfortunately don’t have.”
The other outlaws had stripped Dante bare, his scarred and naked body catching the light of the falling sun. Most of them were departing with their new spoils, heading deep within the rocks and caves littering the Pitchfork, but a few lingered for unknown reasons.
“Don’t be silly. I haven’t got a deadline.”
“No, but the sun’s going down and a pretty thing like you isn’t going to be very safe in this territory once it gets dark.”
“Yet, you’re going to be fine by yourself? Injured as you are?
“Yes! Look, I can handle those stragglers if they try anything. Done it many times over the years.”
“I’m sure you have,” said Jenny, though she had a hard time believing him. Aftershock’s words always seemed to turn on him like a curse. Not only that, his tan skin was looking pale.
“Aftershock…”
“Jenny,” he replied somberly, seeing that her eyes were already sparkling with tears. “You’ve known me for, what, less than two days? Trust me when I say I’ll be fine. As for you, you shouldn’t be this attached. I’m pretty much still a stranger and trusting someone so blindly could get you hurt in this life. You don’t know the baggage I carry. It’s hard enough as it is without –”
“Family?” she asked. “Or friends for that matter? I know that I’m naïve about a lot of things, but I’m not stupid.”
“I didn’t mean…”
“My life has been full of nasty people that prove your point ten times over,” she stressed. “I know not to trust everyone, but I am trusting you. Considering I just lost the last of my family – my entire life until yesterday – it’s a blessing to already have someone I can call a friend. Especially in this harsh world, no matter how short a time it’s been. You’re a friend and I think even you could agree with that.”
Aftershock reflected on her words.
“Guess you’re right,” he muttered. “I can’t argue since I rescued you for the very same reason. But… and yes there is a but… that still doesn’t change the fact that my goal is to get you to safety. That means out of here.”
Jenny felt more words forming on the tip of her tongue. They were ready to lash out, but knowing how stubborn both of them were, she stopped.
“Okay,” she said briskly, watching the sun creep its way toward the horizon “Where do I need to go from here?”
Aftershock was surprised she conceded so quickly, having mixed feelings about it. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, it was nice to have someone around for a change. It had been so long.
“The fringe of the city is past the rocks over where we had the gunfight,” he told her. “Oh, and speaking of guns, we should reload while I’m talking, unless the Shadows took them.”
Aftershock didn’t need to worry about his rifle; Jenny had it and the scabbard slung over her shoulder. She handed them over, then began looking around for his pistol. It was gone, so she focused on reloading hers.
“Damn Shadows took it, didn’t they” he barked toward the few that remained. “Shit. Well, never mind, it just happened to be my favorite.”
“The directions?” Jenny pressed.
“Yeah, sorry. So, from the rocks you’re going to head west. You’ll go that way for about ten, maybe fifteen minutes before you come to a collection of metal buildings. They’re nothing to gawk at, but they do mark the outer reaches of the city. They should be unoccupied, so you shouldn’t have any trouble out that way. The structures are used by Rangers when out in the field for storage, shelter, that sort of thing, so don’t go breaking in unless you’re looking for trouble from them. Once you’re past those buildings though, your technically in Diablo and safe.”
He paused, taking a long, hard
look at his bandaged leg.
“You know, this injury may be a blessing in disguise. I had planned on taking you there but if we were together and someone else happened to be there when we arrived, things could have been messy. We would’ve had to deal with anyone we came across so you could get into the city with an unspoiled story. Even if nobody was there we’d have parted ways to avoid being seen by the watchers along the wall.”
He continued to tell her more about the city’s wall and the process of getting inside the gate, at least for non-outlaws.
“So be sure to tell the guards about the attack on the Gulch and you’re a survivor. I’m sure word has reached the sheriffs across the Barrens of what happened there.”
Jenny seemed okay with the plan, but one point did nag at her.
“That’s all well and good,” she said, “but what if I’m asked details about how I made it out this far by myself?”
Aftershock mulled over it, noticing the few remaining Devil’s Shadow members approaching.
“Good point; you’re probably going to be asked that very thing. It’s best that you tell them you were captured. Even though there are Eliminators, the guards know that raiders like to get their hands on female prisoners. You could have escaped during the night, coming the rest of the way to the wall. That sort of thing happens all the time. Keep your scrap pistol on you but leave the rest with me. That should be enough to convince the guards. Also, as much as I might like how mouthy you are, remember Diablo’s a different animal, like the Gulch times a thousand. Be sure you don’t end up raising more questions than you need to, trying to start a new life. As tough as it is going to be, just go along with what you see and hear.”
Jenny nodded, observing the raiders approaching herself. She stood up quickly, knowing that she had to go but was struggling to say goodbye.
“Come with me,” she said impulsively. “I’m sure there are opportunities, and at least medical help, for you there.”
She knew it was an impossibility, given the state of things there, but the words certainly felt good to say. They felt good for Aftershock to hear, too.
“If only you were in charge, Jenny, but we must part ways,” he reiterated. “It’s the only way you are going to get inside. I may be different from your average outlaw, but those within that wall aren’t going to take the time to find out about it. Anyway, like I told you before, the city isn’t meant for me by any means.”
“Where will you be?” Jenny asked unwillingly.
“Out there, amongst the grit and tumbleweed. I’m going to see if I can find out why the Vipers were so coordinated; something is definitely wrong with that. Hell, maybe I’ll earn some new contacts along the way. Sort of like these fine fellows here.”
Jenny didn’t know what Aftershock was talking about, but when she turned, members of Devil’s Shadow were already standing close. They had been fast and quiet, reaching out to grab her.
“I don’t think so,” Aftershock said, chambering one of his newly reloaded rounds. “Leave her be.”
Jenny had already brought up the junk pistol when the raiders stopped. They just stood there, staring, making her feel even more uneasy.
“Get going,” Aftershock said.
“But…”
“Go!” he insisted. “Now.”
She gulped, wishing she had the level of confidence he had about getting out of the situation alive. It was an awkward situation. Why weren’t the other raiders attacking? Why weren’t they even talking? What did they want?
With little choice and no answers to the questions filling her mind, she wished Aftershock well and began to step away. The wall of raiders didn’t budge.
“I’ll be just fine, Jenny, just like these men will be if they just let you continue on your way.”
Two of the ruffians grunted, stepping to the side. Jenny slid through the gap between them.
“And Jenny,” Aftershock said to her as she walked away, “thanks for reminding me there is still good in the world. If ever you need some wasteland help in the future, you know where to find me.”
With tears in her eyes she carried on walking, deciding it best if she did not turn around. She marched to the rocks, threading between them until the area opened back up into a wide desert. Ahead on the horizon was the broiling skyline of Diablo, dark against a vivid orange sunset.
Trudging toward it, she was worried about Aftershock, thoughts reeling about what was happening behind with each step forward.
I should have looked.
I should have helped him.
I haven’t heard any gunshots.
That must be a good sign.
Unless they used a knife!
Oh, I hope not…
I should have looked.
She wanted to scream, indebted to him, a raider of all things. Without his help, she never would have made it this far. She didn’t care who he was, vowing then and there on her grandfather’s memory that if she didn’t get swallowed by the deep recesses of the city, or otherwise happened to lose her way, she would make sure to find him and repay him, assuming he was still alive.
Nervously checking her pocket watch, she really didn’t care what time it was. The rusted metal buildings were coming into view and immediately, her mind switched, packed with more questions. How was she going to find food? Earn money? Look for a place to stay?
Jenny knew that she didn’t have to figure it all out before she got to the wall. With the losses of her home and her family, those questions would still need answers no matter the location. However, as she walked with her heart as guide and long shadow as company, she was grateful to have some time to consider things alone.
Yet a faint prickling at the back of her neck made Jenny feel on edge and unbeknownst to her, high atop one of the rocky outcroppings bordering the western edge of the city, a Frost Enterprises guard was watching her exit the Pitchfork, radioing its findings back to headquarters.
ANOTHER DAY HAD dawned and Jesse was up early to walk the bright streets of Comprass, an edge borough on the eastern side of Diablo. Wearing some of his less showy finery, he still managed to stick out amongst his surroundings.
The area was rough and its proximity to not only an exterior gate but also the rail station added to it, akin to a catch basin filled with residents, immigrants from the four corners of the world, hunters, trappers, and the dregs of society. As such, the feel was much different than Chester Avenue or the segregated Grayson Market. There, things were orderly and clean, whereas Comprass – like all the edge boroughs – was more free-flowing and jumbled. When viewed, it was difficult to believe it was all part of the same city.
Jesse passed by squalid shops topped with houses on both sides of the slender thoroughfare, their arches chipped and windows so filthy he couldn’t make out anything inside. Overhead, children dressed in nothing more than rags tottered along the roofs, nonetheless with innocent smiles on their faces. Behind them, rising fifteen solid meters, was the city’s defensive wall.
Even as Jesse stared at the pauperism around him, he couldn’t help but be impressed by what he saw. That particular day marked four hundred years since civilization fell and instead of disappearing into history, humanity rose from the brink, at least from an architectural and technological standpoint. The hearts of men, though, could still use improvement.
Jesse’s eyes came upon a person from the Mudlands – evident by his mannerisms, clean-shaven face, and strangely colorful attire – arriving at a jeweler’s storefront. While browsing the inexpensive wares through the dusty shop window, the man received judgmental glares from several passersby, their offhand statements carried over the soft beat of their footsteps. He seemed unbothered by the commentary, but Jesse shook his head at the notion that clothes alone could be the cause of such contempt, especially when not knowing the character of the person wearing them. It was in his experience that the best dressed oftentimes had the most to hide.
Speaking of such people, the store owner – who was a
substantial man with no due to the size of his beard – was also watching raptly from the other side of the glass. One of his eyes was wide open while the other squinted hard, both eyebrows crooked with ill-placed concern.
The man at the window continued perusing, liking the appearance of a garish silver chain that was set amongst a few equally kitschy rings in the display. Wanting to purchase it, he moved toward the shop’s entrance.
The owner was visibly troubled by this development, having kept his eyes locked on the man the entire time. He bolted toward the door faster than a dueler’s hand to a pistol, barring the Mudlands resident from entering, not for being a brigand, but based solely on who he was. Words were flung between them, voices rising in volume, and before long fists were flying.
Every time Jesse saw things like that happen, which was nearly every day in Diablo, he wished the vision he had for the people could come to fruition before they tore each other apart. It wouldn’t come close to eliminating the deep-seated hate residing in people’s hearts – other things would need to change for that – but hopefully he could lift everyone out of the pits of destitution into the light.
As security forces arrived to break up the scuffle, Jesse sunk his hands in his suit pockets and continued with his business. His destination was a saloon near the rail station, about a five-minute walk through the crowded streets. A meeting had been scheduled for half past seven with a man named Drake Nelson, the new head of Barro’s ostensible Master Mechanics. The group was the authority on all technological and engineering deals the City of Soil struck with outsiders, similar to what Duncan’s Magisterium does for Lagos.
Jesse had no shortage of excitement to meet the old man, displaying a little pep in his step. It was his goal to convince Drake that Winthrope products would benefit their city more than the less efficient compression engines currently in use.
Today’s the day, Jesse thought happily, riding the high from his success with the water trade deal. Something great is about to happen, I can feel it in the air!
Jesse was conveniently forgetting that Barro was highly untrusting of Diablo, resistant to deal with the city and any of its officials since the current mayor came into power. However, at that moment the past dealings of politicians didn’t matter to Jesse. Instead, he was focused on the future, motivated by the fact Drake accepted the meeting in the first place.
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