by Eve Langlais
The EMP zap went through them both, but all he lost was his boots’ grip. The guy in the suit became an unmoving metal statue. Axel climbed over him, all too aware of the heavy foot leaning on the speed pedal. He grunted as he shoved at the suit until it tumbled out the side, falling out of the truck and landing on the ground in a rolling tumble he didn’t watch because he slid into the driver seat. Hands on the steering wheel, he jammed his feet at the pedals and brought the truck to a stop. Rather than pause and take a breath, he leaped out, running for the guard on the ground. The EMP wouldn’t last long. Already the suit was probably rebooting.
As he arrived, the driver began to twitch. A hand lifted, fingers bending. Axel pulled the gun from the holster at his back, the barrel short, but wide and powerful. The hole he blasted in the driver’s chest stopped it from rising.
He quickly turned and saw Gunner kicking another prone suit. “Ow. Ow. Fucking Ow.”
“Are you okay?” he yelled as he jogged toward him.
“My luck must be off today. Fucker bagged me on the way down.”
A sympathy wince was in order. “Ouch. Where’s Casey and Cam?”
It took a second rotation before he saw them trudging back over a hillock. The twins each dangled a drone over their shoulder.
That would buy them time before someone came looking, but not long. The vehicle was probably scheduled to call in when it reached the next interference free spot, about an hour’s drive from here.
“Any problems?” Axel asked as the twins neared.
“As if,” snorted Casey. “Although dumbass here put his knife through the belly of his drone rather than take out the propellers.”
“I missed because you tripped me,” grumbled Cam.
“Of course I did.” Said by his sister with a roll of her eyes, the jesting a usual thing for them.
“Let’s disable the tracking unit and get moving,” Axel said.
While Casey and Cam took care of the truck, he returned to the body of the guard he’d downed and retrieved his EMP disk. He’d have to get it recharged. He then stripped the body of anything useable, removing its armor and ignoring the face of the young man inside the helm.
In the Wastelands, those who exhibited too much sympathy had only their bleached bones to show for it. Kill or be killed, the only mantra anyone in the Wastelands truly abided by.
A whirring noise signaled Cam’s arrival with their heat-fueled buggy, the panels on its sides used to absorb and reuse the energy potential.
Rather than play with the lock on the truck for the cargo hold, Axel tossed the gear he’d stripped into the back of the buggy. The stuff Gunner recovered thumped down on top of it.
“How long until we move out?” he shouted to Casey, who had her head stuck under the hood of the truck, which remained rumbling.
“As long as it takes,” she snapped.
Which meant not long. He slapped Gunner on the back. “Good job. Head back home with Cam. I’ll bring Casey soon as she’s done.”
The twins didn’t often split up, but of late, Axel had been trying. Mostly because of something Casey said after spurning yet another suitor.
He’d asked, “What’s wrong with Javier?”
And she’d replied. “It’s not him but Cam. He needs me as a keeper.”
Or did she use her brother as a buffer?
Whatever the reason, Axel was trying to give them each some space, which meant Cam sped off with Gunner and he headed back for the truck. Casey still grumbled under the hood, so he detoured for the back and eyed the doors. What treasure hid inside?
Perhaps not a great one, given it had only two guards and a pair of drones. Then again, what better way to sneak something through than make it appear unworthy of attention?
He climbed into the cab of the truck and searched the barren interior. Nothing inside except for a radio. Doubtful they’d gotten a message off. This deep into the Wasteland, signals had a tendency of failing.
The hood slammed shut, and Casey, still standing on the bumper, slapped it. “Tracker disabled.” She held up a hunk of plastic before tossing it.
A moment later, she swung herself into the passenger seat. The engine rumbled to life, vibrating the seat under his ass.
“Ready?”
“Did you seriously ask me that?” Casey groaned. “Just try and not dump me out, would you? I’m going to take a nap.”
And she did. Slouched in the seat, eyes shut.
Might as well let one of them rest because it took hours of backtracking and laying false trails before he finally made it home.
Home being a misnomer.
Axel and his crew lived in a glorified cave. A big cave, he should add. A former building, long and narrow, buried by the grit outside and barely forming a hump that didn’t look any different than the other humps in the area.
Exploration showed some used to be buildings that caved in. One had become a dangerous cesspool of snakes that enjoyed flesh. Another had a pit in it from which a strange chill emanated.
Theirs was the only one that sported a working pair of rusted doors, hidden behind camouflage netting, which parted as he neared. He flashed his lights in the right sequence, the signal to let him in.
Three quick flicks. Two long. Then four quick flicks. The code of the week. It would change in two days to ensure the wrong sorts didn’t get unfettered access.
The opening proved wide enough for him to drive in, the change from waning afternoon sunshine to almost dusk jarring. But even worse was when they shut the door and he was surrounded by concrete and metal, his connection to the land muffled. He felt constrained already, and he’d not even gotten out of the truck.
He tugged the tinted goggles free from his face, having forgotten he even wore them. Just second nature the moment he stepped out of Hill Haven. The stupid name someone gave this place when they’d discovered it a few years ago.
Not quite a hill and he’d never intended for it to become a haven. Never expected he’d end up with a motley crew to follow him either. But beggars didn’t get to choose. They took what they could get. And then stole what they couldn’t.
He shut off the engine as Casey swung out of the truck parked beside the buggy. The stuff in the back had already been removed, the buggy prepped for its next run. Survival meant always being ready.
Casey headed away from the parking area, whereas Cam emerged from nowhere and trailed her. Gunner was nowhere to be seen as Axel dropped to the dusty floor.
“Just in time for dinner,” Benny, the cook, announced as he wandered into the parking area of the shelter, his rotund frame leading the way. Shy of six feet, the top of his head bald but his beard lush, he wore an apron over his clothes.
“When isn’t it dinner for you?” snickered Vera, who stood guard by the doors.
Axel shot her a sharp look. “Mind your manners or you know what he’ll do.”
The last time Benny went on strike in the kitchen, everyone lost a few pounds. There was a gift to making the food scavenged from the Wasteland edible.
The rolling doors sealed them off from the world outside, and he knew the netting would already be in place. With each home he’d lost, he’d learned to better protect. Two years and counting for this one. It wouldn’t be long before they had to relocate.
Benny indicated the truck. “Think they’ll have any heat-collecting panels in there? We could use a few to replace the worn ones we’ve got.”
“My sources say there should be a few panels being sent in for rehab but still usable. Plus two new ones that accidentally got returned.”
“How much longer is Anya going to work for us within the Creche?” Benny asked.
“Not much longer.” Someone on the inside sympathetic to their cause wouldn’t fare well if caught. “Where’s Zara? The truck is going to need a new pair of doors. Possibly even a hatch if we can’t bust the lock on the back cleanly.”
Benny rolled his shoulders. “Who knows where she’s gone now. That woman doesn’
t tell anyone anything.”
“Did you ask?” Axel said, refraining from uttering a sigh. When had he become surrounded by so many personalities? He had preferred it when he was alone. Then he’d started running into strays who wouldn’t leave. Some even dared to commit the crime of respecting him. He must be getting old because he didn’t kill them for it.
“Zara’s gone to Oliander for some medicine,” Vera offered, wandering over from her post.
He frowned. “Headaches again?”
She nodded.
“Someone needs to check the ventilation system. This is the third person this week complaining.” Axel turned to Benny. “Is the maintenance team back from the river yet?”
Something was impeding their water flow into Hill Haven, meaning he got to hear whining about the pressure. The maintenance team had gone to check the pipe. He hoped they could fix it, given how they’d struggled to get running water to Haven in the first place.
Benny shook his head. “Not a word, and they’re past due.”
“Fuck.” Axel scrubbed a hand through his hair. That didn’t bode well. “Who do we have in Haven right now that can pop out for a scout?” Because if the maintenance bunch, led by Darren, ran into trouble they couldn’t handle, then they needed a subtle tracker to find out what had happened and report back before anyone else encountered the same issue.
“Xyle and Polly went to the Wasteland Bazaar to score some supplies. Domi is off visiting his family in the Southern Crack.”
“I don’t suppose anyone’s heard from Titan?”
Benny shook his head. “Not since he left on your last mission.”
Titan hadn’t been the same since the accident and the repair to his flesh with metal limbs. Zara declared him a medical miracle. A pity Titan didn’t feel the same way. He’d left with only a note that said: Don’t worry.
“Send Gunner to figure out what happened to the maintenance crew. We’ll have Cam and Casey check on the ventilation shafts and filters.”
Management. The bane of his existence.
“What of my replacement so I can get some leave?” Vera earned a glare with her request.
“You know we’re short on people.”
Not entirely true. Almost forty people now lived in Hill Haven, but most weren’t actually fighters. Many would call him weak for taking in Old Gordie. The man was ancient and blind but smart. So smart. Then there was Missy and her little girl, with another on the way. She’d left a food production dome when she realized the mandatory birth control failed rather than have her babies taken from her. What about Leroy, who could only move about in the dark because for some reason the light hurt him? Misfits and survivors, they seemed drawn to Axel, and he, in turn, felt obligated to help them.
A fine mess.
“You’re scowling again,” Vera remarked. “You’ll never catch a woman that way.”
“I don’t want a woman.”
“Then you’d better be switching hands often if you don’t want to end up lopsided,” Gunner offered as he suddenly popped up out of nowhere. “And she is right. You scowl all the time now.”
“Maybe because that’s how I’m supposed to look,” Axel retorted.
“Constipated?” Gunner suggested. “You should try eating more fiber.”
“You should try not talking so I’m not tempted to kill you.” The low muttered threat brought a grin to Gunner’s lips. The man was always in a good mood.
That made one of them at least.
“Leave the man alone. If he’s grumpy, it’s because he’s hungry. Come and eat,” Benny stated before leading the way to the kitchen.
“I need to—” Axel glanced at the truck. What did it matter if it waited a while longer to be cracked open? “What’s for dinner?”
“Stew.”
“What kind of stew?”
The grin Benny tossed over his shoulder proved less than reassuring. The mystery meat did, however, taste pretty good. Even better, it didn’t cause any cramping. Always a bonus.
He didn’t return to the truck after dinner, as a fight broke out amongst some of his people. Two women scrapping it out over a man.
Who then took offense when the women ended up going off together.
The privacy in Hill Haven was lacking. Too few rooms to share and the strung-up tarps not enough to give anyone real space. What started out as a safe bunker became cramped as the numbers swelled. It meant the search for a new home needed to hurry the fuck up before the place imploded. Not to mention, this many people moving in and out was bound to get noticed eventually by the Enclave patrols.
Just more shit to deal with.
It was late by the time Axel carried a cutting torch to the back of the truck. No fancy electronic locks for it. Not when they were so easily zapped. Nor could he simply use a bolt cutter. The embedded industrial lock required a bit more effort.
The cutting torch took its time melting through the mechanism. It eventually popped, and he wrenched it free with a squeal of metal that made him wince. Not that Hill Haven was quiet even at night. There was always a buzz of sound.
Grabbing hold of the handle to roll up the door, he paused. “Vera, can you come here for a minute?”
“Sure.” She knew what he wanted and held her weapon trained on the back of the truck. Just in case.
With a grip on the metal handle, Axel heaved, and the door rolled upwards with a ratcheting sound. There was a moment of silence as they beheld the interior.
More specifically, the woman standing there in a white gown, hair pulled taut with chunks of it escaping in wild wisps. Her eyes wide. Mouth gaping.
A woman who shouldn’t have been inside the truck at all.
“Who are you?” he barked, his senses flaring at the sudden vibration in the air between them that disappeared the moment she fainted.
Four
The woman either feigned it really well or she had truly passed out. For some reason, he was going to wager on the latter.
“What’s wrong with her?” Vera asked, keeping her weapon trained on the limp form.
“I think we scared her.”
Which didn’t really surprise him. If she came from a Creche, those inhabitants were the most protected and ignorant of all. Mustn’t have them tainting the children with crazy ideas of freedom. But her white dress indicated her position as a Madre, which begged the question, what was she then doing outside an Incubaii Dome?
“How long she gonna lie that way?” Vera asked.
She canted her head as she approached, the tip of her gun reaching out to poke the body. He didn’t worry about her getting trigger-happy and firing. Vera had some of the staunchest nerves he’d ever seen. And quickest reflexes. First sign of a problem and she’d put a bullet between the eyes.
“She might be awake right now and faking sleep.”
Vera nudged the woman’s nose with her gun. Her head lolled to the side, and the parted lips showed signs of drool.
Surely no one was that good an actor.
“Damn, you scared her good,” Vera exclaimed.
“Fuck you. I’m not scary.”
“Maybe not so much scary as scruffy. You seen yourself lately?”
He scrubbed at his rough jaw. How long since he’d last shaved? A few days at least, given he’d been running around putting out minor emergencies and then orchestrated the last-minute theft of the truck.
“Guess I should take a longer shower and spend a bit of time grooming.”
“Or go for the wild Wastelander look. The kind that says, I’m a little crazy, probably deviant, and will eat you if I run out of food.” She said this with a straight face.
“You are so fucking funny. Ha. Ha.” He feigned disgruntlement, and she laughed.
“You need to get laid so badly,” she exclaimed.
“Thanks for the reminder.”
Vera eyed the woman in the truck.
Before she even said a word, he headed her off. “Don’t say it. Don’t think it. We don’t know who
she is, other than she’s our prisoner.”
“Think she might be important? Hostages are worth big bucks with the right one.”
“Exactly where do you get these ideas?” Axel exclaimed. Meanwhile he’d already thought of using the woman in some sort of trade that would benefit them. He had no need of another mouth to feed. On the contrary, she might bring in enough to finally make them feel as if they weren’t always one hunt away from starving.
“It’s not an idea; it’s strategy. We should totally trade her for some hot sauce.”
“Hot sauce? Really?”
“It makes everything, even mystery meat stew, edible.”
He smirked. “I’ll put it on our list.” He kept a long mental one of all the things Haven could use. It also included sugar because he missed it most. “She can’t stay in the truck. Put her somewhere secure.”
“And where would that be?” Vera asked. “The only unoccupied rooms with lockable doors are the armory—which might not be the most apt location for her—and the freezer. So, unless you’re planning to save her for a meal, that only leaves your room.”
“There has to be another spot. What about with you and Nikki?”
“Are you trying to kill her?” Vera shook her head. No wild mane this week. She’d shorn her hair down to the scalp so that only tight black curls remained. “Nikki and I barely have room as it is. Everywhere is packed with people. We need more space.”
“I know.” He’d known for a while as a matter of fact. They’d outgrown Haven. Outgrown it a while ago. His fault really for not turning anyone away. Obviously getting soft in his old age. At thirty-three, he’d accomplished something few could boast. A community thriving in the Wastelands.
What the fuck was I thinking?
He sighed. “I doubt she knows how to use a gun from the armory, but just in case, toss her in my room.” There wasn’t much in there she could hurt anyone with.
Vera moved for the truck, smartly putting aside her rifle, leaving her hands free. Axel shadowed her, his gaze not on the woman but the interior of the truck. They didn’t expect anyone in there—these types of cargo vehicles didn’t carry live loads—but they were always careful.