by Makarov, Ian
Steiner was behind the bar in his church-turned-nightclub, which he lovingly referred to as the “Devil's Nest”, sampling some of the new booze. Nukkie walked right up to the bar not even getting as much as a look from Steiner's bodyguards.
“I knew you'd show up sooner or later, kiddo.” He said with his back to her while still sampling out of different bottles.
“Is that the new round of 'shine?” she asked.
“Yes it is. And it's so freakin' good, I almost don't have the heart to sell it to the customers.
I'd rather lock it up someplace and sip on it till I die. But 'nuff 'o this shit.” He put his glass down and turned around leaning on the counter. “I've heard things 'bout you missy. When the hell did you get so clumsy?”
“People talk shit and you know it. What did you hear exactly?”
“Heard you were on a killing spree. Heard you messed up Pump Hill. Heard you had the hounds all over your case and I also heard you wasted Ray.”
“That piece of dirt had it coming. He sold me out, and got a good friend killed.”
“Well I ain’t saying he didn't deserve it, even though he was my son, but all those antics you've been pulling, they put a dent on our rep. Bad for business y'know? Anyways, what did you come back here for?”
“Information. And a little deal.”
“Were it anyone else in your shoes, little girl, I'd shoot 'em right where they stand. But since you’ve been more of a daughter to me than that idiot son of mine, I'll hear you out.”
“Well I'm having a truckload of rifles being unloaded right now. I’ll trade those, and the fact that I've wasted Ray for you, for all the explosives you can spare.”
“Thinking of making a second Grand Canyon?”
“Not exactly, no, but it's irrelevant what I want them for. Let's just say it's for a good cause.”
“Ok, done, although I don't consider Ray's death as a valid bargaining chip, let's say I'll give you a family discount. Now what was the information you wanted?”
She took out a piece of tattooed skin, from a small bag and laid it on the counter.
“What can you tell me of the whereabouts of this particular sect of the Brotherhood? I thought they were holed up someplace near the Crossroads, but the joint was deserted.”
Steiner looked at the tattoo for a moment.
“Can't say off the top of my head, but I'll know before you're ready to roll out again.” He poured himself a glass of the new moonshine. “Care for some of this? And get that piece of skin off my countertop! It’s unhygienic.”
“No, thanks uncle” she said, stuffing the skin back in her satchel. “I haven't been able to get some decent sleep in days, so I think I'll capitalize on the chance and get me some shuteye. Maybe when I get back alright? I'll be at the motel.” With that, she stood up and started walking towards the door.
“You have no idea what you're missing out on, kiddo.” He shouted after her.
She just waved her hand without turning back, and went out the heavy church doors into the cool desert night.
Brotherhood Of Evil
Walker entered the tent. It was already early in the am, so the Lawmen around the camp were trying to illuminate it by bringing in vehicles. The air inside was becoming a bit heavy, most probably due to the corpse laying in the middle of the tent. He looked around carefully using his lighter for extra light.
Besides the corpse, there was a small table knocked over, various sharp tools scattered, and a few pieces of cut rope. Walker leaned in closer, bringing his lighter up to the man's face. Brother Dimitry. He used to be one of the top hitmen of the Brotherhood. Of course few actually knew the
Brotherhood, outwardly a peaceful religious, spiritual organization, dedicated to the path of enlightenment had hitmen, but Walker wasn't part of the Wasteland's majority when it came to things people weren’t supposed to know... It was why he had left the Lawmen in the first place; he'd seen too much to soothe his conscience.
The Lawmen, as the name implied, was the primary force of peacekeeping, order and law enforcement. Initially comprised of remnants of the military and the police after the collapse of civilization following the Final War and attempting to uphold any remaining semblance of order, they naturally allied themselves with the Enginemasters. Brilliant people who would keep their vehicles running and their gear working in exchange for protection. In fact, the superiority provided by technology put them so far ahead of the curve compared to wannabe warlords and bands of roving lunatics, who dreamt of taking over after the Fall, that the Lawmen quickly established themselves as the de-facto expression of Law and Order in the Arizona wastes. To them, upholding order was an uphill struggle. Force alone wasn’t enough to make Wastelanders accept their authority. The next logical step was to clad themselves in the cloak of righteousness, by allying with the Brotherhood. A collective of priests and mystics, expressing and merging all religious dogmas into a new cult following the teachings of what they called the “Path of Light” and holding tremendous sway over the scattered and often frightened survivors of the fallen old world. Of course, like all organizations of such power, the Brotherhood’s means of maintaining said power were often associated with anything but “the Light”, using all means at their disposal to achieve their goals, from blackmail to dispatching zealots as assassins, with the Lawmen often looking the other way. One of these fanatic assassins, perhaps one of the oldest among the ranks of the Brotherhood, was Brother Dimitry.
Dimitry's neck was broken, but there was no evidence of much of a struggle, or the tent, flimsy as it was, wouldn't be standing. Besides that, there was a big bloodstain on his shirt, but the fabric itself was intact.
He put two fingers under the shirt's collar and lifted it to peek underneath. The coagulated blood had stuck his shirt on his chest, but pulling a bit more firmly he exposed the wide and shallow wound, where the Brotherhood normally tattoo their own with their insignia. The killer had obviously skinned the tattoo off the corpse afterwards as some kind of evidence or maybe a twisted trophy.
A soldier in full combat gear entered the tent interrupting Walker's train of thought.
“Walker, we found the rest of them. They're all lying around under the highway intersection just north of here, sporting clean headshots. And there are some faint but unmistakable tire tracks from a large vehicle. An 18-wheeler. It had to be her.”
Walker had known it was her all along, but any doubts he might have had just dissipated altogether.
“Alright, anything else?”
“Yes, we just received a signal that an Enginemaster convoy was ambushed earlier today by persons unknown, but evidence points to a similar vehicle having been used, judging by the way one of their vehicles had been rammed on its side, it looked like it had been ran off the road by something big. The assailants made off with a full consignment of rifles.”
“Where did that happen?”
“Ummm, about a hundred miles northwest of here.”
Walker's head was working overdrive to put the pieces together. If she'd been here, she'd taken the tattoo as a clue on where to find that sect. But why did she ambush those gunrunners? She obviously wasn't going to use those rifles by herself, and word was that she had very good relationships with the Enginemasters, so why go that far? Unless she needed the guns as a bargaining chip. Probably for information, since that Brotherhood sect had moved their headquarters recently. The next question was where she would be able to stop long enough to unload the cargo and find the information she was looking for. There was only one place within a radius of 500 miles.
“The Roadhouse” he muttered.
“Excuse me?” said the soldier.
Walker got up and darted out of the tent.
“I'm going to go check out a lead, you know my frequency if anything comes up.”
He got into his battered green pickup and sped off towards the highway. He had to stop her and get to the bottom of this. If his hu
nch was correct, then she would stay at the Roadhouse until dawn at least. With barely an hour until sunrise, his window of opportunity was vanishing fast. He opened the throttle all the way, clenching the steering wheel.
“Just get me there on time.”
Fond Farewells
The first of the sun’s rays came through the dirty window as Nukkie put her clothes back on and zipped her leather overall up to her chest. She opened the closet taking another bag of tobacco from the cardboard box inside.
“Leaving already?” The half-asleep voice came over from the bed.
“I told you I wasn't staying.” Nukkie replied as she was stuffing some more clothes in a backpack.
“Why not lay low here for a bit, until the hounds stop looking for you?”
“I have stuff to do, Little Bear”
The man sat up on the bed rubbing his face. He couldn't have been older than twenty; his brown hair was a mess as always, but his body was well toned after years of carrying stuff around the warehouse. Opening one eye, he looked at Nukkie's curves again as she was inspecting her guns. Men had shot each other over her, yet he had the mysterious privilege of sleeping with her every now and then. He sure wasn't the toughest guy around. He wasn't even loud. But then again, she wasn't a run-of-the-mill woman. He had secretly been in love with her for years, and god only knows what she saw in him. He sure wanted more of her, maybe a family and stuff, but she never struck him as a family person either.
“So what are you going to do?”
“Get to the bottom of this, leave some corpses behind... And of course Cardinal Nikolai's head on a stick. A fair trade for the death of a good friend, if you ask me.”
He kept looking at her as she slung the backpack around her right shoulder and headed for the door.
“Nuk?” she stopped in front of the door. “Don't die, ok?”
She turned her head towards him while opening the door and smirked.
“Don't forget to lock up my room” she said with a wink and walked out.
Last night's party had died as it always did when the sun rose. A few drunks could still be seen here and there trying to get home or trying to get the numbness off their face. She headed for the warehouse where she'd left the rig. Her uncle was there.
“Sleep well, kiddo?”
“Well don't cover it. Come to see me off?”
“Nah, just to make sure Jimmy had finished loading the explosives… Ok, maybe I did come to see you off.”
“Thanks uncle” she said hugging him. “...but you can cut the emotional crap now. It's not like I'm not coming back.”
Steiner smirked “I know you can watch your back kiddo, but be extra careful. Them hounds have Walker on your case.”
“So I've heard.” She said tossing her backpack in the cab.
“Don't underestimate the man, kid. He's forgotten more than all of them weekend soldiers have ever learned together.”
“I'm not. But thanks for the heads up anyways.” She climbed in the cab and turned over the engine, which sprung to life, like a beast, stirred from its sleep.
“Just lookin' out for ya!” Steiner shouted as she started to pull out and headed for the highway. “Give 'em hell, kid” he added under his breath.
Catching Up
Walker pulled his sidearm as he was sneaking up to the semi. Finding it was easy. A caravan headed north had seen it speeding past and some hermit on a donkey he asked had caught a glimpse of it stopping under the highway bridge. Maybe it was too easy to find. Or maybe his luck had changed. Carefully he snuck alongside the trailer, trying to stay out of the view of the mirrors. He went around the front to the passenger door and tried to open it as quiet as possible. With a little luck, he would catch her napping in the cab.
An unmistakable cocking sound interrupted his thoughts.
“You must be Walker. Have I heard lots about you mister.”
“Give yourself up Pliskin. I know you weren't responsible for those murders in Pump Hill. I can clear you, then we can get those really responsible, and bring them to justice.”
“Whose justice? Yours? The Lawmen's? No thanks.”
“I know the Brotherhood is involved. This doesn't change a thing. They will stand trial for their
crimes.”
“Right. So you want to tell me the generals will just string Cardinal Nikolai and his circus up. You know they won't; they just need these lunatics on their side no matter how much blood it costs. Isn't that why you left the force in the first place?”
He didn't know how to answer that, she was right.
“There has to be another way!”
“Oh yes, there's always another way. Move away from the truck.” She said leading him towards an old lamp post. “Down against the post.” She took away his guns and threw them a few yards off, then bound him tightly on the pole, took his knife and thrust it on the ground in front of his feet.
“You're just going to leave me here?”
“Yes, my uncle told me you were too good a man to kill. I don't expect you not to follow me after you get yourself free, but before you can catch up, every single one of those psychos will have bitten the dust, so it's pointless. Instead, I want you to do something much more meaningful.”
Walker raised an eyebrow. That woman sure had a lot of surprises up her sleeve.
“Like what?” he said in a mildly sarcastic tone.
She went back to the rig, fetched something from the cab and put it on the ground in front of him. She opened the metal box which depressurized with a hiss and showed him a vial.
“This is the Strain Omega. As the name and the logo implies, it’s some sort of virus, or bioweapon. From what I gathered, those religious freaks were going to use it to take control of the province. Personally, I don't give a rat's ass, even if it is bad for business. This is not about me. It’s to honor a good friend's memory. I want you to take it, and make sure no one can ever find it again, be it some preacher who'd want to see the end of the world happening again, or some idiot who'd just sell it to the highest bidder. Which is most probably the preacher, but that's irrelevant. This vial is a threat to life as we know it, and I personally like it just the way it is.”
“Why are you telling me all this?”
“Because I know you can be trusted. And because you're smart enough to do the right thing.” She shut the box again, which immediately started pressurizing and stood up, walking back to the truck.
“You know you're nuts Pliskin, don't you?”
Nukkie just shrugged and waved without turning around. She got in the cab and turned the ignition.
The rig spat thick black smog columns into the sky, as she growled back to life, then slowly resumed on its path, accelerating.
“Time to finish this.” Nukkie said to herself and pulled back on the ramp towards the highway.
Vengeance
Brother Jaden was almost falling asleep on his watchtower. This guard duty was so boring and monotonous; he could barely keep his mind present. The sun was already high, closing on midday, and the waves of hot air moving along the desert floor just made his lethargic situation even more unbearable. He looked at his watch, but the damn thing had stopped working hours ago.
“Man, what the hell?” he thought. “Gimme a friggin' break.”
He tapped on the glass face of the little device, though to no avail. He leaned against the railing and let out a deep sigh. It was at least several hours until the next guard rotation, and every second seemed like years. He picked up his radio and called the watchtower on the other side of the main gate.
“Brother Murrin? Brother Murrin come in....”
“What is it Jaden? Falling asleep again?”
“Man, this is unacceptable, how come we always get the morning shifts? It's not like anything happens around this time anyways.”
“You mean no one would come looking for trouble at this time?”
“Yeah, if they wanted to
put us to sleep, they could just as well send us to our rooms.”
“Heh yeah, sounds right to me.... Speaking of rooms... Guess who I saw sneaking out of Brother Pulaski's room early today.”
“Who?”
“Sister Clarissa”
“No way! Clarissa and Pulaski? C'mon man, quit messing with me.”
“I mess with you not Jaden. I bet it's been going on for a while. Explains what all those creaking noises are every now and then.”
“Man this is ridiculous... Pulaski's face looks like a messed up mutation experiment... Damnit, why would a heavenly creature like Clarissa sneak into his room instead of mine?”
“My point exactly heheh... You know we could 'borrow' the Cardinal's picture machine. It's not like he ever used it since that loose Enginemaster gave it to him.”
“Then what?”
“Then we sneak in Pulaski's room while they're at it and… Wait a minute.... What the hell is
that?”
“What the hell is what?”
“Down the road, dumbass, down the road!
Jaden picked up his binoculars and looked down the dirt road leading up to the gate. A cloud of dust was rising, as a large, black truck was barreling towards the gate.
Jaden switched to general frequency and called it in.
“Alert, alert, this is gate post one. Unknown large vehicle on collision course with the gate. All guards, open fire, prepare to extract the Cardinal.”
Everyone on the wall started firing on the truck. Perimeters of armed guards were set inside the gate, and the whole compound entered a state of high activity.