08-18-2015, 10:26 PM
The beast of a machine roared even louder than it had before, its supercharged engine sending a plume of sand and dust into the sky behind them. The ravenous creature lustfully mounted the peaks of dunes only to soar over them and onto the next. Joyfully it rocked from side to side after each leap, the newly-repaired suspension cushioning every thunderous impact.
A wide grin was spread over the bandit’s face, the lithe engineer who sat behind her equally happy though she clutched the dashboard with every titanic movement. “So where we headed?” she asked when the terrain flattened out into a long, hard-packed plain of sandstone and dirt.
The bandit’s eyes never left the road, swerving to hit a wandering mutant lizard. “Headed back to the old base, see if they’ve got any leads on the asshole that I was running down.” The animal barely even made a bump as she ran over it, extinguishing its miserable twin-headed existence.
“Oh,” Caret said, not quite sure how to follow up. “Well, I man, there’s gonna be cool stuff to check, right?”
Smirking, the bandit said, “There’s always cool stuff if you look hard enough, kid.” She glanced over and offered her companion a nod, “I’ll make sure you get something real nice.”
Caret returned the smile and nod, affirming the answer.
“For now though…” the woman pulled down the sun shade and extracted a dusty cassette tape. Blowing it off, she set it into the player, pushing it the rest of the way with her index finger, “… let’s just ride.”
A dreamy, almost hallucinogenic guitar sang through the speakers, drowning out everything but the sound of the engine’s rumble. The winding, psychedelic tune lead the duo through the desert, the sand giving way to stone and scrub-brush as they rode onward. Soon, red-rock buttes and bluffs sprang up beside mesas and spires, leaving behind the undulating waves of the yellow sea. The tracks of the cassette rolled over each other and day gently turned to night. The cloudless sky allowed the moon’s cool blue light to illuminate their way, a span of wild stars stretching out above them on a celestial highway.
The pink-haired engineer yawned and slumped down in her seat, stretching her limbs in every direction. Propping herself back up, she gazed wistfully out of the window at the seemingly purple landscape that blew past them. “When do we get to take a break?” she asked, more of a casual question than a complaint, “We’ve been driving all day. The fuel’s gotta be running low by now anyways.”
Tapping the gauge, the bandit confirmed the girl’s assumption. “How’d you know?”
“You get a knack for that kinda stuff after a while, I guess,” she lazily replied, sighing out her answer.
“Alright, I guess we can take a quick break,” the conceited, grabbing the stick shift and transitioning down. The truck began to slow down, the heavy thrum of the engine softening as they pulled to the side of the trail.
Caret quickly grabbed her door handle, but the bandit snatched her shoulder and pulled her back. “Always check before you leave the vehicle,” she scorned her.
Caret shook her head, “Oh yeah? For what? It’s not like there’s anyone out here. We’re not near anything.”
The bandit’s eyebrows furrowed, “Even if vultures didn’t come out this far, and they do, there’s plenty of other shit to be worried about, especially in the Red Rocks.”
Caret rolled her eyes, “I’ve been scaving these dunes as long as I can remember, I think I’ve got a pretty good handle on what to look out for.”
“Apparently not,” she said gesturing out the door, “There’s tons of UXO out here, Unexploded Ordinance. Vulture mines, to be specific. As soon as you hit the ground, they pop up and rush at ya, blowin’ the fuck out of any fool that didn’t think to look for ‘em.”
Caret’s expression was much starker than it had been when the bandit started talking, “Oh, uh… well, are there any?”
The bandit planted a hand on the dash and leaned over the girl, scanning the ground outside her door. “Nope.”
“Oh,” she said flatly, “Good.” She glanced back and forth for a moment, nervously rolled down the window and leaned out all the way to the waist, searching over the ground once again.
Laughing the bandit opened the door and grabbed her rifle, “I told you it’s fine.” She leapt from the cab and hit the dirt, immediately beginning a search of the vehicle.
Caret took a deep breath and carefully dismounted, exhaling a sigh of relief when she didn’t burst into a million tiny pieces. She ran to the rear of the vehicle, dragging the huge gasoline container from the bed with a tug of her thin arms.
“The truck’s holding up really well,” the woman said, sliding a hand over the freshly dirtied side plating.
Caret twisted the lid off and screwed on the neck of the gas can, sliding it into the vehicle’s tank opening, “Well of course it is.” Grunting, she hefted the container up and the gasoline started to glug into the tank, “I do good work. Don’t you know?”
“Heh,” she coughed, “I guess I should by now.” The woman gave the tires each a firm kick and lifted the hood, checking the various fluids. “Not even burning as much oil as before.”
“The breather hose coming off of your crankcase was full of it. Those ‘mechanics’ back at your base sucked ass.” The container emptied and she pulled down another, beginning to repeat the process. She laughed to herself, “At least this thing doesn’t have a PCV valve. A bunch of vehicles I see rolling around are so worried about low emissions that they sacrifice the efficiency of the motor.”
“Huh,” the bandit grunted and slammed the hood, “I have no fucking idea what you’re talking about.”
Caret shrugged as the last of fuel emptied into the machine and hurled the can back into the bed. “I’m used to that by now. Nobody ever knows what I’m talking about.”
The bandit reached up into the cab and retrieved a small, filthy cooler from behind her seat, placing it on the bumper. “Sorry kid,” she said, opening it up. “I have a little bit ok know-how, but I’m not that adept.” She retrieved a small bag and tossed it to her companion.
Caret caught the bag and jumped up onto the hood, her dangling feet kicking below her. She opened the bag and took a bite out of the white-bread sandwich. “Mm, too much ketchup,” she complained and peeled the snack open, scraping some of the red off.
“I don’t know what the hell half that shit it, I just liked the color.” She opened her own and took eagerly pushed the snack into her mouth. A few chews in and her nose crinkled, “Ugh, yeah, I think I added too much. What the hell is this stuff?”
“It’s like a… tomato, sauce, THING. I dunno.” Caret flicked the condiment off her finger onto the ground. “You really don’t know what ketchup is?”
“Nah,” the bandit tried to replicate the engineer’s technique by sliding the bread along her boot knife and shaking it off. “We don’t have a damn thing out here. I barely knew this shit was bread.” She took another bite and contemplated the flavor for a moment. Apparently satisfied with the flavor, she continued to chew.
“Huh,” the mechanic chirped. “What else did you put on them? Like, what meat is this?”
Rolling her eyes, the bandit finished her small meal. “The pink kind.” She rolled her fingers over one another, “You know, the kind that was walkin’ around, then it died, then somebody sliced it up and put it in a little plastic package kind.”
“Oh. Specific,” Caret quipped, also finishing off the sandwich. “Tasted like ham, I think.” She hopped down from the hood and landed, knocking the air out of her a little bit. “Got anything else in there?”
“Yeah, I just grabbed some of those good chips he kept hidden in the cupboard.” The woman tossed Caret a full-sized bag of “Let’s” BBQ flavored chips and closed the cooler. “Now chips I know. Anything that’s sealed in a tin, can, or bag I’m pretty familiar with. Though I gotta admit, chips were kind of rare, ‘cause the package usually doesn’t stand up too well for travel.”
Spinning around, Caret leaned against the wheel, staring up at the stars. “Well I bet it was nice when you guys did get some fresh food, though. Did you like, hunt or anything?”
“Yeah,” she shrugged, pushing the cooler back where it came from, “Well, kinda, I guess. We shot stuff sometimes, and sometimes we ate it. I guess I’ve been on a few trips where we were out looking for something to eat. It’s not like, a thing though, you know?”
“Yeah, I think I get ya,” Caret said and folded her hands behind her head. “It’s just such a different lifestyle than the one I’m used to. Shepherd could make us whatever we needed, just like that.”
The bandit crossed her arms and tossed her shoulder into the grill, a snarl on her lips. “Yeah, we have plenty of primes around too. They’re just assholes! They think we’ll perform better if we don’t got enough to eat or something. Maybe they suck at being primes, don’t got enough omni to keep us fed. Either way they’re fuckers.”
Caret sighed, looking over to her friend. “Yeah, well, nothing we can do about that out here, right?”
“Right,” the bandit replied with the ghost of defeat in her throat. “Ready to hit the road, then?”
“Yeah,” Caret nodded, a grin already on her face as she ambled into the seat, buckling herself in.
The bandit pulled herself up the steps and slid into the seat. “Let’s roll.”
The tires spun angrily, tossing red dirt back and forth as the cassette twisting out wild tunes and stories of a wandering path once again.
A wide grin was spread over the bandit’s face, the lithe engineer who sat behind her equally happy though she clutched the dashboard with every titanic movement. “So where we headed?” she asked when the terrain flattened out into a long, hard-packed plain of sandstone and dirt.
The bandit’s eyes never left the road, swerving to hit a wandering mutant lizard. “Headed back to the old base, see if they’ve got any leads on the asshole that I was running down.” The animal barely even made a bump as she ran over it, extinguishing its miserable twin-headed existence.
“Oh,” Caret said, not quite sure how to follow up. “Well, I man, there’s gonna be cool stuff to check, right?”
Smirking, the bandit said, “There’s always cool stuff if you look hard enough, kid.” She glanced over and offered her companion a nod, “I’ll make sure you get something real nice.”
Caret returned the smile and nod, affirming the answer.
“For now though…” the woman pulled down the sun shade and extracted a dusty cassette tape. Blowing it off, she set it into the player, pushing it the rest of the way with her index finger, “… let’s just ride.”
A dreamy, almost hallucinogenic guitar sang through the speakers, drowning out everything but the sound of the engine’s rumble. The winding, psychedelic tune lead the duo through the desert, the sand giving way to stone and scrub-brush as they rode onward. Soon, red-rock buttes and bluffs sprang up beside mesas and spires, leaving behind the undulating waves of the yellow sea. The tracks of the cassette rolled over each other and day gently turned to night. The cloudless sky allowed the moon’s cool blue light to illuminate their way, a span of wild stars stretching out above them on a celestial highway.
The pink-haired engineer yawned and slumped down in her seat, stretching her limbs in every direction. Propping herself back up, she gazed wistfully out of the window at the seemingly purple landscape that blew past them. “When do we get to take a break?” she asked, more of a casual question than a complaint, “We’ve been driving all day. The fuel’s gotta be running low by now anyways.”
Tapping the gauge, the bandit confirmed the girl’s assumption. “How’d you know?”
“You get a knack for that kinda stuff after a while, I guess,” she lazily replied, sighing out her answer.
“Alright, I guess we can take a quick break,” the conceited, grabbing the stick shift and transitioning down. The truck began to slow down, the heavy thrum of the engine softening as they pulled to the side of the trail.
Caret quickly grabbed her door handle, but the bandit snatched her shoulder and pulled her back. “Always check before you leave the vehicle,” she scorned her.
Caret shook her head, “Oh yeah? For what? It’s not like there’s anyone out here. We’re not near anything.”
The bandit’s eyebrows furrowed, “Even if vultures didn’t come out this far, and they do, there’s plenty of other shit to be worried about, especially in the Red Rocks.”
Caret rolled her eyes, “I’ve been scaving these dunes as long as I can remember, I think I’ve got a pretty good handle on what to look out for.”
“Apparently not,” she said gesturing out the door, “There’s tons of UXO out here, Unexploded Ordinance. Vulture mines, to be specific. As soon as you hit the ground, they pop up and rush at ya, blowin’ the fuck out of any fool that didn’t think to look for ‘em.”
Caret’s expression was much starker than it had been when the bandit started talking, “Oh, uh… well, are there any?”
The bandit planted a hand on the dash and leaned over the girl, scanning the ground outside her door. “Nope.”
“Oh,” she said flatly, “Good.” She glanced back and forth for a moment, nervously rolled down the window and leaned out all the way to the waist, searching over the ground once again.
Laughing the bandit opened the door and grabbed her rifle, “I told you it’s fine.” She leapt from the cab and hit the dirt, immediately beginning a search of the vehicle.
Caret took a deep breath and carefully dismounted, exhaling a sigh of relief when she didn’t burst into a million tiny pieces. She ran to the rear of the vehicle, dragging the huge gasoline container from the bed with a tug of her thin arms.
“The truck’s holding up really well,” the woman said, sliding a hand over the freshly dirtied side plating.
Caret twisted the lid off and screwed on the neck of the gas can, sliding it into the vehicle’s tank opening, “Well of course it is.” Grunting, she hefted the container up and the gasoline started to glug into the tank, “I do good work. Don’t you know?”
“Heh,” she coughed, “I guess I should by now.” The woman gave the tires each a firm kick and lifted the hood, checking the various fluids. “Not even burning as much oil as before.”
“The breather hose coming off of your crankcase was full of it. Those ‘mechanics’ back at your base sucked ass.” The container emptied and she pulled down another, beginning to repeat the process. She laughed to herself, “At least this thing doesn’t have a PCV valve. A bunch of vehicles I see rolling around are so worried about low emissions that they sacrifice the efficiency of the motor.”
“Huh,” the bandit grunted and slammed the hood, “I have no fucking idea what you’re talking about.”
Caret shrugged as the last of fuel emptied into the machine and hurled the can back into the bed. “I’m used to that by now. Nobody ever knows what I’m talking about.”
The bandit reached up into the cab and retrieved a small, filthy cooler from behind her seat, placing it on the bumper. “Sorry kid,” she said, opening it up. “I have a little bit ok know-how, but I’m not that adept.” She retrieved a small bag and tossed it to her companion.
Caret caught the bag and jumped up onto the hood, her dangling feet kicking below her. She opened the bag and took a bite out of the white-bread sandwich. “Mm, too much ketchup,” she complained and peeled the snack open, scraping some of the red off.
“I don’t know what the hell half that shit it, I just liked the color.” She opened her own and took eagerly pushed the snack into her mouth. A few chews in and her nose crinkled, “Ugh, yeah, I think I added too much. What the hell is this stuff?”
“It’s like a… tomato, sauce, THING. I dunno.” Caret flicked the condiment off her finger onto the ground. “You really don’t know what ketchup is?”
“Nah,” the bandit tried to replicate the engineer’s technique by sliding the bread along her boot knife and shaking it off. “We don’t have a damn thing out here. I barely knew this shit was bread.” She took another bite and contemplated the flavor for a moment. Apparently satisfied with the flavor, she continued to chew.
“Huh,” the mechanic chirped. “What else did you put on them? Like, what meat is this?”
Rolling her eyes, the bandit finished her small meal. “The pink kind.” She rolled her fingers over one another, “You know, the kind that was walkin’ around, then it died, then somebody sliced it up and put it in a little plastic package kind.”
“Oh. Specific,” Caret quipped, also finishing off the sandwich. “Tasted like ham, I think.” She hopped down from the hood and landed, knocking the air out of her a little bit. “Got anything else in there?”
“Yeah, I just grabbed some of those good chips he kept hidden in the cupboard.” The woman tossed Caret a full-sized bag of “Let’s” BBQ flavored chips and closed the cooler. “Now chips I know. Anything that’s sealed in a tin, can, or bag I’m pretty familiar with. Though I gotta admit, chips were kind of rare, ‘cause the package usually doesn’t stand up too well for travel.”
Spinning around, Caret leaned against the wheel, staring up at the stars. “Well I bet it was nice when you guys did get some fresh food, though. Did you like, hunt or anything?”
“Yeah,” she shrugged, pushing the cooler back where it came from, “Well, kinda, I guess. We shot stuff sometimes, and sometimes we ate it. I guess I’ve been on a few trips where we were out looking for something to eat. It’s not like, a thing though, you know?”
“Yeah, I think I get ya,” Caret said and folded her hands behind her head. “It’s just such a different lifestyle than the one I’m used to. Shepherd could make us whatever we needed, just like that.”
The bandit crossed her arms and tossed her shoulder into the grill, a snarl on her lips. “Yeah, we have plenty of primes around too. They’re just assholes! They think we’ll perform better if we don’t got enough to eat or something. Maybe they suck at being primes, don’t got enough omni to keep us fed. Either way they’re fuckers.”
Caret sighed, looking over to her friend. “Yeah, well, nothing we can do about that out here, right?”
“Right,” the bandit replied with the ghost of defeat in her throat. “Ready to hit the road, then?”
“Yeah,” Caret nodded, a grin already on her face as she ambled into the seat, buckling herself in.
The bandit pulled herself up the steps and slid into the seat. “Let’s roll.”
The tires spun angrily, tossing red dirt back and forth as the cassette twisting out wild tunes and stories of a wandering path once again.
![[Image: sig2.jpg]](http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v288/KrimTheUnsettler/sig2.jpg)