The Big Waste (After-Skirmish Book 1)

by C. W. Ashley

  “Mine! MINE! Don’t take!!”

  Please don’t be another fucking dead lizard….

  Iggy hopped out of his limp to painfully jog towards Sil to see what the commotion was about; only to see three figures of human shape standing about 12 feet away from them. Sil was now steadily moving to the front of the cactus as if she was ready to guard. The three figures all had brown cloaks on, which were typical for scavenging nomads. The figure in the middle raised their hood which revealed a human face.

  Under the hood was a man of about 40 years old with a thick medium brown beard and rectangular black goggles. After taking a step out in front of the trio, he held his hands out as a passive gesture, desperately signaling that he didn’t want any trouble. One of the hooded figures behind him seemed to be rummaging through their cloak and it was making Iggy nervous. He decided to speak up before this escalated any further.

  “Hey, what’s going on? Who are you?” Iggy said in an even but direct tone.

  As Iggy called out, Sil’s barking stopped and morphed into a low growl, as if to give backup to his words. The bearded male stepped forward and removed his goggles to reveal a set of warm friendly eyes. He spoke with a slight rancher’s accent.

  “My name is Novak sir; behind me is my wife, Trass and our prospector, Clive. We don’t know what’s got your girl so upset, we ain't bandits, and ain't tryin' to take nothing from her.”

  The hooded figure who was rummaging removed their hood to reveal a female face that had a few scars around the cheeks, blue eyes and short red hair. She was roughly the same age as Novak, and she spoke with a much thicker rancher dialect.

  “Ain’t got none ta steal from her even if we was, lady’s nearly as naked as the day she was born. Ya need to keep your girl in line waster, well mutant-girl…”

  Sil’s beaming eyes narrowed and her voice shot up.

  “Sil not Mutant! Need clear-wet, go back!”

  So, she isn’t a mutant?

  Iggy tried to de-escalate by meeting Novak’s tone.

  “Listen, she is trying to find a medicine or something for my leg,” Iggy explained as he winced on a step. “I don’t know what we are looking for but she can get protective of things that seem minor. Tell me what you’re after so we can keep out of each other’s way.”

  Sil’s back arched and her huge fangs were on full display. She was allowed the conversation to continue, watching everyone carefully. Novak and his wife, Trass looked at each other before looking back at Iggy cautiously.

  “Uh okay that’s fine, we aren’t after that, we just want some water,” Novak said as he nodded at his wary wife. “The pond behind you looks pretty clear so it won’t take too long to filter, some of the puddles ‘round here can take up to an hour to clean even with Clive’s help and we got a lot of families back at the convoy,” Novak detailed.

  Novak’s words were sincere enough for Iggy to relax. He nodded slightly at the trio and turned to Sil who was still intensely focused on them. He attempted to speak to her in a firm but diplomatic manner.

  “Sil, they just want to go to the pond for water. We will move out of their way and find the Clear-wet...okay?”

  Sil turned slowly back towards Iggy letting her arched frame return to a more standard wild woman’s posture before speaking firmly herself.

  “Clear-wet here! No one take, only leg!”

  Iggy noticed that she was motioning to the small cactus as she said Clear-wet, which explained why it looked like she was guarding it.

  “Alright Sil, we will take the cactus, they just want the water, no problem.”

  Iggy’s mostly rational voice warbled as a new wave of sore pain washed over his leg, which he masked poorly with a false cough. Novak, Trass and their hooded friend 'Clive’ began to walk towards the pond. Sil watched them closely in her defensive stance, looking like she was ready to pounce.

  “Nishin…” Sil said in a hush.

  Sil's eyes began to dart between the trio and Iggy frantically as if she was trying to tell him something. Iggy was an instinctive person, but he didn't pick up on anything out of the ordinary about the nomads, apart from 'Clive’ remaining both silent and hidden under his hood. They walked past Iggy and Sil carefully making no sudden movements and passed them in a wide arc as if they were being repelled by Sil's low growls. It was only when they got to the lip of the pond Sil seemed to relax a little, which in turn caused Iggy to exhale deeply.

  “Nishin...clear-wet is here. Hold still, only one chance to save leg.”

  With the fate of his leg in Sil’s hands, Iggy nodded before moving closer to a highly focused Sil and the apparently important cactus.

  Sil took a deep breath as she ran her clawed grey hands over the cactus gently as if she was searching for something. The sharp-looking bristles on the cactus seemed to have no effect on Sil’s clearly non-human skin. After a few seconds, she leaned forward, smelled the plant and took a large bite out of the top. The sound was loud wet crunch which caused Iggy's eyebrows to jump, but his voice to hold. He had followed her thus far and wasn't about to question her now.

  Sil didn't chew or swallow the chunk of cactus in her mouth; but instead crawled over to Iggy on all fours with her face now level with his beltline, humming smoothly before looking up at him.

  Looking down at Sil on her knees made Iggy's neck hot and his breathing quickened. Her skin seemed to glow in the afternoon light and her pronounced cleavage was made even more visible through the window of her low hanging body poncho from his line of sight. Her shimmering eyes seemed less primal and more empathetic to Iggy; leaving him to wonder how much of an impact his car had on her perception of him. Despite his pain, Iggy didn't want to think about anything else but what he could see in front of him.

  And then she bit him.

  Her head moved so fast it looked like an illusion; her fangs sinking deep into his nasty wound, and the pain was so sudden and so unfamiliar that Iggy didn't even make a sound. He was in shock.

  She's gonna kill me right here, eat me alive and steal my car…

  Trying to keep his mind focused, his hand slowly moved to his jacket, feeling around for his holstered revolver. Without moving her mouth from his leg, she restrained his wrist with her powerful hands. With the feeling of being held by iron shackles, he felt like she could crush his bones like a plastic cup if she really wanted, but she only held. As her eyes fixed on his; the pain of the bite began to lessen accompanied by an odd tingling feeling through his lower body, starting to feel bizarrely pleasant.

  “S-Sil...what's happening?... ugh”

  The sensation was both invigorating and slightly arousing, waves of subtle electricity through his legs were finding their way to his groin and his manhood began to react accordingly. Sil somehow looked even more desirable to him now than before she was biting him. Acutely aware that the trio was still close enough to hear any moan he let slip, he tried his best to hold his voice. Just as it began to overpower his senses, she removed her teeth from his thigh.

  “No fucking way...I don’t believe it!” Iggy exclaimed.

  The wound was gone, the feeling of his leg had returned completely and apart from a small itch there was zero pain. His festering, heavily scabbed bullet wound was now a slightly bloody scratch, no bigger than what a mildly annoyed kitten could deliver. He was instantly healed. Sil and the Clear-wet were the real deal. The wild lady rose to her feet and faced Iggy, and her soft lips expanded into a toothy smile.

  “Leg is saved. Clear-wet works.” Sil said softly, her striking face mere inches away from his.

  Every fiber in Iggy's surprised mind was telling him to lean in and kiss her but he was unsure if she would even understand what that meant. He took a gulp and closed his eyes but the ‘moment’ didn't last long enough for him to make a move.

  “RANDALL GAINSBOROUGH, AGE TWENTY-SEVEN. BOUNTY ACTIVE.”

  The voice sounded like a car alarm mixed with a steel factory. Iggy's eyes sprang open like he was rudely awoken from a
good dream and spun his head to face the sound so quickly he felt his neck sprain. The obnoxious clamor had just blared out Iggy’s full name; something he hadn’t heard out loud since adolescence.

  The nomad trio had made their way back over from the pond, carrying the water they came for, facing Iggy with the third traveler fully revealed.

  'Clive’ was a Tin Man.

  Early model synthetic humanoids, known as ‘Tin Men’ in the wastes, were very rare but instantly recognizable. Pre-skirmish they were primarily used in simple support roles; assembly workers, tour guides, groundskeepers, and office admin, but never combat roles. Humanity was paranoid enough to not make A.I. soldiers, lest they are used against them one day. But now in the wastes, the remnants of the synthetics had been rebuilt and reprogrammed for a whole range of survival-based tasks. Personal bodyguard was one of them.

  A Tin Man?! How did these nomads get their hands on one?

  Clive’s face was a cheap mockery of humanity, a ghoulish plastic-looking light blue mask for a face with two flickering orange lights as eyes. Behind the mask-face was a crude network of wires and spark plugs with a rusty tripod that seemed to form a ‘neck’ for the Tin Man. He stood just over a head taller than Iggy and his limbs were long and gangly.

  Clive was a very early model; the amount of work done to repurpose him seemed to be rushed and amateurish. After blaring Iggy’s information, it raised its hand to extend a rusty claw-like finger that pointed at him with an emotionless prejudice. Slowly Novak and Trass came over from the pond, with backpack flasks full of water and long poles fashioned into spear-like weapons. Sil was now in a crouched position between Iggy and the Tin Man Clive, her growl so deep that it was felt in the pit of Iggy’s stomach. Her head was darting between the three in a rapid pattern.

  The bearded male Novak spoke in his usual soft tone.

  “You gotta understand we’ve been a struggling convoy since the shell evicted us, we have been living from scavenge to scavenge. We can’t really hunt food out here and only a couple of us know how to use weapons. But anything worth eating out here is dangerous and we don’t want to risk our dwindlin’ numbers, fella.”

  His red-head wife Trass stepped forward, speaking with a scratchier and slightly more aggressive voice.

  “Ya spoke well too good to be a Waster, Mista Randall. I had Clive runna background on ya. Figured you for a Citi, but never reckoned you’d have a bounty that fat on ya neck. Ten thou would take tha whole convoy a long way, we got our own twelve-year-old boy plus six other kids who ain’t been eating good for weeks now, ya’ll know we gotta do right by em.”

  The bounty has been launched already? Guess they don’t like being hung-up on. I thought I’d have at least another half-day before the registry update. I don’t want to fight these people...much less kill them...but….

  Iggy’s hand once again found itself reaching for his revolver. He obviously had an advantage with a firearm, but he only had two bullets against three opponents not even sure he could hit two of them. Guns being as rare as they are, most people don’t get the opportunity to use them, much less practice.

  Would a bullet do anything to a Tin Man?

  Having non-existent experience with synthetics, he wasn’t feeling super-confident standing in front of Clive, even with his freshly healed leg. He attempted to negotiate with a voice he couldn’t keep from quivering.

  “L-listen, you don’t need to do this, there are plenty bounties out there”.

  Trass smirked and Novak sighed in response, now walking closer to Iggy with his spear outstretched and pointed at his throat.

  “If you come along peaceful, we can collect this bounty without any violence, I know the debt camps are kinda rough, but you’re still young, do the smart thing, mister.”

  Trass turned to her husband after glancing behind Iggy.

  “Ya know Novi, his veehickle would probably go for nearly as much as the bounty, or we could add it to tha convoy…”

  Iggy had heard enough.

  “Fuck that, you ain’t taking me or my car, back off.”

  Sil had also heard everything she needed to.

  “HOME is mine! NO-ONE takes!”

  Sil leaped into action before Iggy could even draw his gun. She was so fast that Novak and Trass could only respond as a splutter.

  “Clive! Get her! You gotta…”

  “Fuckin save us, robot!”

  Clive’s arm, shrouded under a heavy sleeve until this point, rose up to reveal a rusty forearm-weapon. Crackling with blue sparks at the wrist, revealing it to be a stunning prod. Clive’s body squealed painfully as his rusty joints moved into action, but despite his age and model, he was still incredibly agile, leaping out of the way of Sil’s charge but also barely missing with his own shock-prod counter move.

  They were now in a fight.

  Trass had already begun flanking Iggy as soon as Clive jumped into action against Sil. The wild woman and the Tin Man were now circling each other, with an automatic acknowledgment for each other’s speed. Iggy stood horrified at how fast a gangly humanoid-like Clive could move. His body looked like an overgrown metal spider, with his arms and legs bent wide and moving laterally in a jerky motion. Iggy then spotted the red-head nomad make her way to his left and he drew his pistol, not confident he could hit her with a shot.

  “Dang it Trass, stay back, let Clive handle it!” Novak shouted to his wife while cautiously staying put in his original position. But Trass’ eyes were now wild with the fire of conflict. She couldn’t hear anything rational right now.

  As her battle-grimace turned into a small grin, Iggy wasted no time in pulling his revolver and aiming it at her center mass. The trigger felt stiff and uncomfortable with the weight of the gun seeming unfit for one hand. Iggy had no idea how to tense for the recoil, he let off a shot that had a sounded like a monster truck backfiring. But apart from a slight crouch by Trass and a flinch from her husband it was clear that the bullet didn’t hit anything living. Iggy cursed his bad aim and now reduced ammo. Trass saw all she needed to close the gap on the young driver with impunity and Iggy doubted she was going to miss with her spear thrust like he did with his gun.

  Sil’s ears pricked up as if she ‘saw’ every aspect of the fight despite only watching Clive and made her move. Without even waiting for an attack to counter, Sil achieved speeds even faster than before. She darted right toward Clive and grabbed the wrist of his non-stun-baton arm and yanked hard in a half pivot motion, tearing the synthetic arm right out of its socket.

  “GAAAARRRR”

  A metallic whine from Clive’s chest followed the sickening ripping sound of wires and joints as Sil snarled with moderate effort pulling the appendage from the rest of the frame. Iggy, Novak, and Trass all stood looking slack-jawed at the violent action and Sil didn’t waste a single second of their shock to capitalize.

  In the same turning motion she used to tear off the arm, the wild female swung the metal limb as a makeshift club with blistering force at Trass’ head with such power the impact took most of the head off. Sil’s fluid and precise motion contrasted with her primal nature. Iggy cringed in disgust as he heard the smack.

  Wet chunks of Trass’ skull flew across the sand, covering almost everybody except her husband Novak who was a few paces behind. The recently widowed man dropped to his knees immediately and began wailing in immediate grief as her half-headed body slumped to the floor ungracefully.

  “Holy Shit!” Iggy exclaimed.

  Before Iggy could even comment on her violent technique, Clive; now coated in the mechanical fluid that pissing from his shoulder stump, was regaining balance and preparing to zap Sil with his still functional electro-prod arm.

  But the Tin Man never stood a chance.

  Sil spun back around in reverse, now using the severed limb like a sword. In a motion as fluid as the last, she impaled Clive’s chest with his own arm. Iggy had to shield himself from the bits of bolts and scrap metal that exploded from the chest in all dir
ections. The Tin Man was standing but silent, with his voice function no doubt being obliterated by that move. With a slow and glitchy looking behavior, it finally staggered back from the fight, its circuits going a mile a minute trying to react to the major damage. Iggy wasn’t about to wait to see what happened next. In one swift motion, he pointed his revolver and got up right close to Clive before putting the gun to the Tin Man’s temple.

  The oversized revolver cracked the air with another boom.

  The kickback of the shot almost sprained his wrist, but this time the bullet hit its target and the true power of the gun was realized. Clive’s unnerving plastic mask of a face was almost disintegrated by the sheer impact of the shot and the Tin Man went completely stiff before hitting the floor like a wrecked steel pillar.

  The after-shock of the gunshot finally dissipated. All that could be heard was the blubbering of the last surviving man in the trio, Novak.

  “P...p...p... please folks…I know we d-did you wrong trying to claim t-that bounty, but I gotta little boy back at the c-convoy. Let me just get my wife’s body and I’ll be outta ya way...please…?”

  Iggy breathed the hot air out of his lungs and began to feel more civilized again, giving the adrenaline time to settle. He holstered his gun and spoke with an angry but clear tone. “We never wanted this! I never wanted this! Take your wife and go. Bounty hunting is a nasty business, if you really care about that community you have then you’ll stay the hell away from these kinda risks, got it?”

  Novak dropped even further down in a pathetic bowing motion as the spit, snot, and tears from his face began to heavily soak the ground beneath him. “T-thank you kind sir, I wish Trass hadn’t talked me into thiss...oh god...my Trass...I’ll do right by the convoy sir...you’re a good man, I’ll spread your good name, we can sort you with some supplies and we----ackkkkk!”