As I Ride These Broken Roads

By Davis M.J. Aurini

This work is fictional and contains scenes of violence and coarse language. It also contains big words so
some of you might need a dictionary. It is wholly owned by me, DMJ Aurini; it is copyrighted. The right is
not granted to re-print this anywhere, however you may link to it as I have on the NMA message boards
(they have been so gracious as to host the pdf for me), but I would like for you to contact me if you do: my
email is aurinidmj@hotmail.com

Chapter 1
The sun beat down on Wentworths body. It was sinking ever closer to the
horizon, its red glare coming at an almost horizontal angle, making him sweat and
blinding him. After hours of walking his feet throbbed with each step, and the creak of
leather on wool from the duffel bag over his left shoulder had become a repetitive
reminder of his journey, playing in two-three time to his footsteps. In his right hand he
carried an assault rifle, holding it by the magazine housing.
Highway 7A was cracked, bleached, and hard on the feet. For most of the way
the embankments on either side had been too steep to make their marginally better
softness worth walking on, so hed been stuck with the blacktop.
However his journey was almost over, whether he found an inhabited city or just
an empty ghost town. Hed made that decision when his bike first broke down and he
had spotted an old pre-war street sign listing the next few cities up the road. The town of
Blackstock, 23 kilometres from his starting point, was going to be the end of his journey
for the day whether he found civilisation or not. The past two towns, Nestleton Station
and Yelverton, had been abandoned, so this was his last shot. He hoped he wasnt going
to be stuck sleeping in a concrete shell with mildewed carpets tonight.
The land he was walking through was hilly, with some brush and scrub lining
either side of the road, and the occasional remains of a barb wire fence left to natures
ravages decades ago. A cold wind had started blowing with the sunset so now he was
sweating from the heavy leather jacket, but cold wherever the wind got in. Without
breaking stride he pulled out his Milspec Datapad to check how much further he had left.
It was an olive drab box twice the size of his hand, made with durability, not asthetics in
mind. Its LCD screen listed the details from the devices uplink to some of the few GPS
satellites still orbiting and projected the data onto an old satellite photo of the area he was
in. It showed that hed been walking in a roughly straight line for twenty-two and a half
kilometres, so he should be seeing something soon. The anticipation only emphasized
the pain in his feet.
He had been in the middle of long valley when he checked the Datapad, and sure
enough when he crested the hill he saw a rusted, but still readable, road sign just down
the road: Village of Blackstock Pop. 800. Just a couple hundred metres past the sign
was a stone Victorian-style building, stonework walls with a roof that must have been red
once upon a time. It looked like it had been ancient before the war. Over the door hung
the wooden sign identifying it as the Landfall Farms Ale House, the sign was recent and
in good repair.
Damn, he said to himself. Youre a sight for sore eyes.

Beyond the tavern he could just barely make out the rest of the city stretching off
perpendicularly on the left of the highway, in spite of the setting sun in his eyes. A few
other buildings, most of them makeshift constructions built or rebuilt out of whatever
materials were available metal riveting, pieces of old cars, plastic sheets or wood with
the occasional pre-war building in semi-decent repair. All of them ran along two parallel
roads going north/south. In the northeast corner, close to him, there was a larger brick
building in good repair with a farmers market set up where once there had been a parking
lot. He guessed the building might serve as the seat of local governance. Outside of the
built up area there were a number of farmers fields filled with cattle, corn, and soya
plants. In the city and the fields he saw the movement of people working and milling
about.
Taking all of this in with a brief glance, Wentworth put down his duffle. He took
his rifle, removed the magazine, and popped out the pins holding the upper and lower
receivers together. He then placed the pieces into his duffle bag. He left the pistol on his
hip. Slinging his bag over his shoulder again, he made his way up to the bar, pushing
open the door. He quickly surveyed the scene.
The first thing he noticed was that the bar had electric lighting. Low-voltage
LEDs, blue-white, hung along the rafters. Aside from the unique lighting it seemed a
pretty regular place, but his suspicion over the age of the building was confirmed; the
floor, like the walls, was stonework it was uneven, and it probably made for rickety
tables, but it gave the place character. The dcor included advertisements up on the walls
for beers that hadnt been sold in fifty years or more, a stage to the left of the entrance
with a drum set and music stands set up, a stairway going up on his right, and the bar at
the back with a few locals sitting around it chatting and glancing over at the stranger who
had just wandered in.
Wentworth walked up to the bar, feeling the locals eyes upon him. With his
leather jacket and chaps, pistol, and the issued black Kevlar helmet he knew that he
couldnt be called nondescript. He didnt sense any hostility however, just a bit of
tension, which was only to be expected.
The bartender was a young guy with dirty-blonde hair, and tribal tattoos on either
cheek, eyeing him like the other locals. Whatll ya have stranger?
Wentworth put down his duffel and leaned up on the bar. You accept Petrolia
Dollars?
Thats the only kind of dollar Ive ever heard of. You from out East or
something?
Yeah, heading west.
Huh. Aint heard of nothin from down that way. Nothing close, at least. I
thought it was all abandoned wasteland.
Yeah, it mostly is. Ill take a pitcher of whatever beer you guys brew up around
here.
The bartender went to fill up the pitcher while Wentworth looked around the
room, allowing the locals to subtly examine him without confronting them. He didnt
expect any problems and trusted his peripheral to catch any that might crop up. Through
the corners of his eyes he noticed that they shared the same type of tattoos on the
bartender was wearing. Direct glances showed that each tattoo was unique, but the style
was similar. The bartender came back with his beer and money changed hands.

If you dont mind my asking, said Wentworth, where do you get the power for
those lights? He hadnt seen many hamlets with power before. It was usually a luxury
reserved for larger trade centres.
You like them? Theyre new. Got a new guy in town, moved in a few months
back, built a steam generator for us that works off of charcoal from the flue. We keep it
out back and it charges up a battery during the day. The lights dont use up much juice,
but weve got an old sound system that another guy salvaged. It took a while to get it
working, but now weve got all sorts of pre-war music. We turn it on later after sunset,
its pretty cool; you should stick around.
I might just do that. Whats up those stairs there?
Thats where we keep the Pool Table. Its open right now but theres nobody up
there.
Cheers, said Wentworth I think I might head up there and rest my feet a bit, if
you dont think it unfriendly. He re-shouldered his bag, and now with the pitcher in
hand he went up the stairs. After his walk he was too tired to chat, and wanted to sit
down for a while before having to be polite.
The upstairs was divided off into two rooms; one with a pool table to the back, the
other with an unmanned bar, and more chairs as well as a couple couches recovered
from the back seats of a minivan. On the buildings front wall was large bay window
with cracked glass just barely staying in the frame. Wentworth went towards the
window. He set down his pitcher on a nearby table, then put his duffle on the floor. He
sat down on the couch so that he had a view both out the window and back towards the
stairwell. He poured a beer, lit a cigarette, and with a groan of pleasure put his feet up on
the table in front of him.
These boots, as great as they are generally speaking, are not very good for
walking in. They were high heeled and designed for biking. While the grips on the sole
were top notch, the padding wasnt all there. Now that he was sitting the blood was
rushing into his feet and he could feel them swelling. He was tempted to remove his
boots, but resisted the urge; not in public. He could feel the muscles of his back unknotting, and his legs were protesting from use to which they were not accustomed. He
unzipped his jacket, and for half the pitcher he just sat there watching the sun go down.
It was several minutes before he remembered to take his helmet off and toss it
onto his duffel.
Raxx gently flickered the flame from his acetylene torch along the weld he was
making on a broken steel axle. With quick strokes he sealed the two pieces back together
hardly leaving a mark. Leaving the axle in place at the back of his workshop to cool, he
pulled out a cigarette from his pack sitting on a nearby table. He ran it under the torchs
flame for a second, the turned off the torch and shook the cigarette to kill the flame
burning on its end.
He lifted off his welding mask, and put it and the torch onto the work bench. For
a second he admired his work. It wasnt perfect, there was evidence showing that it had
been welded, but it was far more than would ever be needed for a donkey carts axle. He
was satisfied with the elegance of the weld. He walked out the garage door of his
workshop and sat on a barrel he had placed just outside to smoke his cigarette and watch
the setting sun.

Through gaps between the buildings across the street he could see into the soya
fields west of the city. The farmers were finishing work for the day and heading back
into town along the dirt tracks separating the different crops. He waited until he saw the
particular farmer he was waiting for then stood and slowly waved his hand back and forth
high above his head.
Hey, Thomas! Shes good to go! Grab one of the donkeys! he shouted.
The farmer waved back, then turned around and headed to one of the animal pens.
A few minutes later he came around one of the buildings leading an old mare behind him
on a rope.
You got my cart working again, lad? asked Thomas. He squinted at Raxx under
his baseball cap, his skin was sunburned and wrinkled.
The axles fixed. I just need to set her back into the joint. It should be cool now,
just give me a second. Raxx went back into his workshop to fetch the axle and some
tools. The cart had been sitting outside his shop since that morning when Thomas had
dropped it off to be fixed. While he tightened the bolts holding the wheel and axle in, he
and Thomas made small talk. It only took a few minutes to complete the job. Raxx took
an oil can and applied a couple drops and the wheels turned smoothly. There you go,
good as new.
Thanks, lad, you always do good work said Thomas shaking Raxxs hand. He
began strapping the donkey to the front of the cart.
Say, said Raxx, Did you see Conny working the fields today? Im wondering
if she still has the flu or not.
Oh-ah, I didnt see her out in the north field today so Id guess so. Give her a
couple days, Im sure shell feel better. I know her Mas looking after her, so you
shouldnt worry. Anyway, I should take old Gertrude here and go put this cart away. My
bones are about ready for a lie-down. You have a good night, Raxx.
They made their farewells and the older man left. With the days work done, and
Conny still sick, Raxx had nothing else to do. After closing up his workshop he decided
to head down to Landfalls for a pint.
As Wentworth watched the sun clear the horizon he heard the music go on. The
speakers were located downstairs and it was quieter where he was, but it was loud enough
to make out clearly. It made a nice addition to the beer and tobacco, and he started
tapping his toes together in time to it.
A few minutes later he heard somebody moving up the stairwell, and looked over
expecting to see the bartender coming up to ask him if he needed another round. Instead
it was another patron, somebody who hadnt been there earlier when Wentworth was
downstairs. He was tall and lanky, carrying a pint of beer in one hand. Hed shaved his
head recently and was spotting a goatee, as well as several facial piercings, but without
the tattoos the others downstairs wore. He was wearing black jeans and a blue plaid vest
overtop of a black t-shirt. At his belt hung a tool pouch and a revolver. He sat down at a
table kitty-corner to Wentworth, who nodded at him.
Hey, said the man, looking at Wentworth with his body turned slightly away,
hows it going?
Not too bad, said Wentworth, Just finished a long hike, and figured I deserved
a beer to relax with. That music downstairs is certainly helping. Gotta say, Im pretty
impressed with the tech you guys got going here.

Heh, glad you like it. He put his hands behind his head and stretched overdramatically. Yup, yup, a bit of old Raxxs handywork!
Oh really? said Wentworth, perking up, The music or the generator?
Well, both, really, but dont tell that to the Bill. Hes the old guy that runs the
feed store. He smiled, The generator was easy, I designed my first one years ago.
There are a couple parts which are too difficult to make that I need to salvage, but theyre
easy to find. The rest of it you can make out of available materials. He paused to light
his cigarette and take a sip of his beer.
What about the sound system?
He got a serious look on his face and focused on a spot in the table in front of
him, while gesturing with his hands. Bill managed to find an old solid-state music
player and some speakers. The music player looked like some kind of personal-use item.
Something that a person would carry around on them, not a public system. Its only
about yay big, he held his hands slightly apart to demonstrate. The speakers were in
pretty rough shape. The interior bits worked once I got the rust off, but I had to build
new cases for them. Then there was the problem of designing an amplifier. I tore apart a
couple of old cash registers to get the pieces and got it working. Bill found the thing
though, so Im letting him have the all the credit. He smiled again, Heh, except when
people ask. And there you have it: music a la Raxx.
Thats pretty impressive. Say, I dont suppose you know anything about
mechanics? Wentworth said.
I might know a thing or two. Im the general fix-it guy here in Blackstock. Ive
dealt with internal combustion engines before, whats the problem?
My bike broke down on the way into town. The chain snapped while I was
riding, the wheels are probably going to need realignment, and one of the cylinder heads
may need replacing. Its been sounding funny for the past couple of days. Does that
sound like something you could fix?
Yah, I should be able to help but what happened though? Are you okay man?
Mostly, Wentworth rubbed the back of his right calf, the chain whipped
around and hit my leg when it broke, but I had chaps on and it didnt make it through the
leather. For a while my leg was numb, but now its just a nasty bruise. I didnt wipe out
or anything, and I can walk; so yeah, Im okay.
Glad to hear it.
Yeah, so am I. The walk was bad enough without a broken leg.
How far out were you?
About twenty klicks. Thatll be a problem.
Hmm, Raxx thought for a minute, Its doable. Come by my workshop
tomorrow in the morning and well talk. Dont worry, my prices are fair. But Im off the
clock right now, so I dont want to talk business, he smiled, I havnt even said welcome
to Blackstock. The names Raxx, by the way, like I said earlier.
Pleased to meet you. People call me Wentworth. They got up and shook hands.
Raxx relocated to a couch next to him. Ive got to say, he went on, this seems like a
pretty nice place. Everyone Ive met has been friendly so far.

Yeah, its a pretty good place. Im new here myself. Moved in about six months
back. I think its because its so isolated. Back west there are a lot of problems. People
are denser, and all the governments out there are competing with each other. Now you
take Blackstock; its isolated off of any major trade routes, and there are no operational
railroads in the area, but they still get the occasional trader coming through. Just enough
contact to keep them oriented, but none of the shit. The locals are suspicious at first, but
they give you a chance if youre alright.
What about you then? You seem pretty talkative.
Like I said, Im an outsider here too, so I guess its that I just want to talk with
someone else in my position. If you head downstairs though, Ill bet that Jake hes the
bartender will start up a conversation with you. He likes hearing any news from other
places almost as much as he likes to hear himself talk! Raxx smiled as he said it, without
malice.
As Raxx was speaking Wentworth drained the last drops of beer from his glass. It
was warm, bitter, and it left him feeling heavy and tired after the long walk. Well, I
should get heading before I fall asleep in my chair, so Ill have to talk to him tomorrow or
something. Say, I might as well ask you; are there any Inns in town? Or am I stuck with
a rock for a pillow?
Good news, youre standing in one. Landfall used to be an Inn back before the
war when there were people to rent rooms. Nowadays most of its been converted into
the towns Ale House, but Jake and his family still keep some rooms up for rent for
people coming through the area, mostly the traders. I think they include breakfast and
dinner in that, too.
Thanks a lot, thats good to hear; Ive been carrying this duffle bag for far too
long. Im going to go downstairs and get things sorted out then crash. What time should
I come by tomorrow? Im assuming youve got a shop or something.
Raxx made an expansive gesture with his arms, Any time. Ive got nothing on
the plate for tomorrow. Its just down Main Street halfway, an old service station nobody
else was using so I set up kip. Its got a red and blue sign on a post out front that says
Esso. If Im not there just ask around with anyone whos there. Theyll tell you where
I am.
Thanks a lot, mate. Ill see you tomorrow. He got up and shook Raxxs hand,
then left to sort out the details of his nights stay, bringing his empty pitcher with him.
Raxx drank the rest of his glass slowly; listening to the music below and watching
the stars come out through the window. It was a quiet night and nobody else came out.
He wondered a bit about the stranger, but mostly he thought about Conny. He hoped she
would be feeling better in time for next weeks Corn Festival.

Chapter 2
The next morning Wentworth awoke refreshed. His leg and back muscles were
sore from the walk, and the welt on his right leg made him hobble a bit, but he felt alert
as he made his way down the street to Raxxs workshop.
Breakfast had been included just as Raxx had said. It had consisted of eggs, hash
browns, stewed tomatoes, coffee, and Jakes conversation. He was talkative; as
Wentworth ate he was furnished with anecdotes about the weather, local rumours, the
Landfall familys brewing methods, and the two-headed calf born earlier that year.
Wentworth had eaten in silence, offering the occasional nod or grunt to keep him going.
The coffee was strong and black, and it had revitalized him.
As he walked down Blackstocks Main Street he noticed things that hed missed
the evening before due to his fatigue. Although there were a fair number of trees
growing within the city limits, outside of them there was nothing but stumps. South of
the town he saw smoke rising from what he presumed to be the towns coal flue.
The road was cracked, and the buildings were makeshift, but the locals kept
things neat. On his walk he passed several different women sweeping their walkways.
The roads were free of cars which had been pushed into rusting packs on unused property
here and there. It was about nine in the morning and the stalls in the market place were
just beginning to be set up, the empty booths from the night before were being filled with
various types of produce. As he walked by people showed the same polite indifference to
him the bar patrons had the night before. Some nodded to him.
Raxxs workshop was easy enough to find. The sign Raxx had mentioned, rising
twenty meters in the air, was easily the tallest structure in town. Though sun bleached,
covered with grime, and broken in places, it was easily identifiable.
The building itself was a small service station with a couple of vehicle bays with
garage doors attached to its side. It was set back from the road, with four rusted out fuel
pumps placed along two concrete islands out front. The walls were a greyish-white, and
at one point it looked as if some colourful logos had been painted on but that paint had
long peeled. There had once been large windows looking out from the store-portion of
the building, but the glass was missing. Now they were walled up with spare planks of
wood and sheet metal. An eves system on the roof ran to a rain barrel next to the door,
next to where Raxx sat, smoking a cigarette and drinking out of a chipped mug.
Morning, said Wentworth, walking up.
Yes it is, replied Raxx, Howd they treat you over at the Landfalls place?
Breakfast was included like you said. It was good.
Glad to hear it. Nice piece of hardware, by the way.
Wentworth tugged on the strap of his rifle which was slung over his back, Yeah,
well, speak softly and carry a big stick, right?
Hey, Im not complaining man. I dont go out into the country without my
shotgun. Glad to see you came prepared, he stubbed out his cigarette, Now lets get to
the task at hand. You said your transmission chain snapped. Did you happen to check
the chains grade?
Its diameter you mean? Yeah, Wentworth pulled a notebook out of his pocket
and read off the number hed written down there the day before.
I think I have that. If not I should be able to repair your old chain. Tell you
what, how does this sound? Ill look it all over for fifty dollars, then I can give you an
estimate. Sound fair?

Okay, sounds good. So whats the plan then, are we bringing your tools with us?
If we are its a bit of a walk, wed need a cart and a donkey Id guess.
Huh? I was planning to bring the bike back up here. Oh, I didnt mention it last
night, did I?
Mention what?
Instead of answering Raxx just smiled and slid open the first garage door.
Towards the back was a motley assortment of engine parts, tools, and other mechanical
devices which made up the Raxxs workshop, but the thing that stood out to Wentworth
was the pickup truck sitting in the front.
What do you think? asked Raxx.
He nodded, surprised to find a working vehicle in such a small town. Nice. I
guess we dont have to walk after all. The truck looked to be a 2500 from its bulk, large
enough to be capable of heavy hauling, with fuel consumption that wasnt horrible. It
had been built with an aquiline style. A predominant middle ridge on the hood housed
the engine with two lesser bulges on either side ending in headlights, but the once smooth
features were now corroded at the edges. It may have been painted black at one point,
but what paint was left was heavily sun bleached and scratched, making positive colour
identification difficult, while in some areas unpainted sheets of metal had been welded on
- presumably to replace bits that had been completely claimed by rust. At some point in
its life its wheel base had been modified, and it now sat higher on sturdy chain-belted
tires which would have been too large to fit in the wheel wells, a necessity with the way
roads had degraded since the war.
It was an extended cab, four-seater, and where once there had been glass in the
windows there was now Plexiglas; a bit scratched, but clear enough to navigate safely
and keep the occupants insulated from the elements. The truck bed was had no topper,
and the side walls flared back into fins. The right fins tail lights had been smashed out.
There were dents at various points on the vehicles surface, but the damage looked
cosmetic to Wentworths untrained eyes. Besides, any working vehicle was a sight to
behold in Ontario these days.
The two of them started loading Raxxs tools into the back, along with the
replacement parts to compare to what the motorcycles engine might need, and some tiedown ropes for the bike itself. While they worked Raxx told him about the truck.
When I first found her she was in pretty rough shape. I did most of the repairs
myself, but I was lucky. I came across it one day back when I was a kid out exploring. I
used to do that a lot, when I wasnt working on the farm, Id load up a bag with water and
food and take off to some of the nearby cities which were mostly in ruin. One day I came
across a building which had been mostly destroyed. It looked like a bomb had gone off
there. Roof gone, walls mostly rubble, you get the idea. I was just strolling through it,
not really expecting to find anything, when I noticed a stairwell going down subsurface.
I cleared out the crap blocking the door then pried it open with a crowbar. It was
a heavy wooden door, but it wasnt too hard to get off. What I found was a small
underground garage; I hadnt noticed it earlier because the ramp on the outside had been
so full of debris. Thats where I found this baby, protected from most of the elements
except a bit of dampness in the garage itself.

Whoever the owner had been he must have been a mechanic or something,
because there were a number of tools and manuals shelved there. Enough for me to
figure out the basics. I didnt tell anybody else about this discovery, and over the next
few years Id make a point of coming back and working on the truck. Even without
getting direct exposure it had still been rendered inoperable. I gathered too that if you
leave a vehicle idle for long enough, or any machine for that matter, it just dies. Theyre
designed to keep running.
I was lucky though that this baby was an automatic. Uh, automatic transmission
that is. Heh, Id been playing around with it for a long time before I even learned there
was such a thing as standard. From what Ive read, I probably would have destroyed the
engine without even realizing it if it had been a standard.
By this point theyd already finished loading up the vehicle, and were going down
the highway. Theyd passed the Blackstock: Population sign a while back. Underneath
the hood the engine was making a deep rumbling noise, to Wentworths ears it sounded
healthy, but expensive. So what kind of mileage do you get?
About twenty klicks to the litre, with a ninety-two litre tank.
Ouch.
Raxx shrugged, Yeah, its not that great, but its got a lot of torque. In my spare
time Ive been playing around with a duel-torque engine system to lower the
consumption when I dont need it, but its far from workable just yet.
How do you fuel it?
Well, we get shipments in from trade caravans every so often, he said, Thats
how I heard of Blackstock in the first place. Anyway, I arrived with a nearly full tank,
and only had to wait a couple of months before the next caravan came through. Id told
him what I was interested in, and he took care of it for me. Guy named Vince I think
hes coming into town later this week. The nearest town is a couple of days if youre got
an Ox pulling you like most of the traders do, so hes not by too often. He supplies me,
and there are some storage tanks in the building I took over, he glanced over at
Wentworth, Dont worry about this though, its free. Shes fully charged, so I dont care
about driving out to your bike. Fuck, its good to be on the road again. I dont usually
have an excuse, so I dont drive as much as Id like to
They drove on in a comfortable silence. The sun was approaching its zenith and
in the distance the road wavered from the heated air on its surface, mirages appearing and
vanishing. Suddenly the light hit the right angle to create a glare on the road, turning it
white. Wentworth slid his goggles on while Raxx reached for a pair of sunglasses sitting
on the dash. With the sun out condensed moisture from the night before left the earth and
new cracks appeared where no scrub or grass existed to hold it together. Wind currents
picked up the loose dirt and dust devils rode across the land, calling it their own.
Staring out the window Wentworth saw all the landmarks from his journey the
day before flash by with a rapidity he did not remember. Barns once red, the wooden
beams weathered to a lonely grey, with parts of their roofs caved in. The orange twines
of rusted wire fences. A brick house, once home to a family of human beings, now
inhabited by mice, louses, and black moulds and mildew waiting for a bare foot or a pair
of lungs to take root in. The hills rolled by. Sometimes forest had reclaimed the land,
but more often than not it was the dust devils. The grasses eked out an existence between
the two.

You know, said Wentworth, breaking the silence, its surprising to meet
somebody as skilled as you with the old tech. Id been worrying I was going to have to
abandon my bike or figure out how to fix her on my own and that wasnt going to
happen. I didnt really expect to find anyone in a small place like Blackstock whod
worked with motorcycles before.
Raxx shrugged, Well, to be honest, I havent. Its not easy to find the machines
to practice on. So Im stuck with old manuals and what not, but Ive read a lot on all
kinds of maintenance. Motorcycles are exactly the same as cars, except simpler. The
basic machine is a lot less complex really, there shouldnt be anything that could go
wrong with a cycle that I cant fix, while theres a number of things I still dont
understand about this truck, and other things where the repair would require advanced
tools I dont have. So its going to be kind of new to me, meaning Im going to take it
slow, but its almost definitely within my abilities.
Wentworth nodded, Oh, I trust you with it, thats not the issue. I was just saying
that not many people are educated on the old tech. Its rare to find one who is.
Its a question of will, not education.
What do you mean?
Raxx sighed, looking exasperated for a second before speaking, Alright, its like
this take Blackstock. Its been isolated for a long time; there isnt much trade that
comes through of products or ideas. But despite this, the people there are pretty stable,
mentally speaking. Theyre still in touch with reality. The oddest cultural trait theyve
developed over the years is their tattooing.
Yeah, I was meaning to ask about that. All of the men I saw had them.
Raxx shrugged, It shows bloodline. All the boys get them when theyre initiated
into adulthood at nineteen. Its like, to us its a bit odd because we werent born there,
the same way this metal in my face might look odd to you, depending on where youre
from. But theres nothing wrong about it, nothing self-delusional.
I dont quite read you. If youre going to refer to some cultural traits as
delusional, then really, shouldnt you admit that all of them are delusional in some
manner? I mean that they all are based upon an imaginary norm that only exists because
of commonly held belief not reality. Culture is nothing more than a commonly held
norm a delusion accepted as universal fact.
Raxx smiled, I like the way you talk. And yes, thats true. But what Im
pointing out is that they dont attach any sort of mystical meaning to their facial art.
Their tattoos only show their family history and mark them as adults. They dont, for
instance, think that by tattooing themselves they will have better luck growing food.
Okay, I think I see what you mean. Ive seen some communities that have been
taken over by all sorts of weird superstitions. Isolation can allow strange ideas to develop
sometimes. Youre saying that Blackstock is still in touch with common sense, that they
dont have any particularly irrational traits theyve acquired over time. That theyre a
fairly average group, and maybe one of the better ones. Are we on the same page?
Yes, exactly, theyre a fairly average group but then heres the problem have
you noticed that theres no new construction in the town?
Yeah, but its like that everywhere.

Exactly my point. Its as if . . . people have just given up. Theyd rather sit
around all day amidst the wreckage of our ancestors and forget the past, then try and pick
themselves up and rebuild things. Even out west where the population is denser, all the
politics are about power plays, not rebuilding. On the one hand, people want to forget the
technology. But on the other, their current lifestyle is based on the old science in so
many ways. We live in the old houses, all of our tools, from weapons to farm
implements, come from the ancients. How about the fact that I survive by maintaining
the old tech? Then look at petroleum its critical out west. Here in Blackstock theyve
reverted to coal, but most places still heavily rely on oil. The old tech is still everywhere,
its the bedrock of our society. And yet, almost nobody understands the basic mechanics
of any of it. Most of the technicians who are involved know what buttons to push, but
theyre disconnected from the process. They dont know why they push the buttons.
People have closed their eyes to the truth underlying all tech. This is . . . its
wilful ignorance, and its everywhere. Knowledge seems to scare most people, I find.
Very few people want to hear me explain what Im doing, or how to prevent the
malfunction from happening again. They just want it fixed and working so that they can
forget about it.
Some places outright blame technology for the war, others have escaped so
deeply into fantasy worlds of pretty lies that theyre completely lost, its nearly
impossible to even discuss the concept of truth because theyre so wrapped up in their
own little worlds. Believe me, I tried. Its like, none of them will try to examine the
reality to find out whats going on beneath the surface. They wont try to muck out the
gears hiding behind the walls, they dont want to understand. They wont open up the
black boxes, they just keep expecting them to perform their magic.
Thats what I meant about it being a question of will, not education. People
dont have the will to understand things; in fact they actively will themselves not to! So
as a result we live in shitty, recycled buildings because nobody will re-learn construction
techniques, the vehicles which are out there are all antiques because no-one wants to
learn how to make new ones and socially? Were stagnating. Seriously, its a fucking
mess where civilisation is denser, theres even slavery in some places. Theres no
progress. He let out a long sigh.
Wentworth just nodded to this and smoked his cigarette.
Heh, sorry man. Bit of a rant there. Im just frustrated because there arent
many people I can talk to about even the basic stuff I do. They dont want to hear it and I
get lonely.
No, dont apologize. I was just thinking about what you said. It strikes a chord.
Ill have to get back to you on it, though.
Hey, no problem, man.
The engine rumbled beneath the hood as they continued on down the highway.

Chapter 3
Alright lads, were almost there. Weve got about an hour left, and then we can
all have a sit down and a pint. The Landfalls brewery alone is almost worth the
journey! Vince McGraw punctuated his remark by snapping the reigns on the two oxen
whod been slouching since the day before. Something must be wrong with their feed, he
figured, some vitamin missing and leaving them fatigued.
He sat on the first of two carts linked together and pulled by the oxen. The first
cart was designed to carry passengers. It was built from the rear half of a station wagon.
The many unnecessary pieces had been removed to lighten it, and a third wheel had been
installed in the centre of the front end. The roof had been removed and replaced with a
tarpaulin to create some shade, and behind him were crates of the heavier trade goods.
The second wagon was just a long flat bed with tie-down straps; it was piled high with
the lighter cargo.
Vince sat centered behind the two oxen. He was wearing earth tones; brown
pants, a white shirt, with a tan utility vest overtop. While on the road he also wore a wide
brimmed hat to block the sun and a light scarf over his nose and mouth to keep the dust
out. He was a barrel-chested man in his late thirties, and sported an unkempt beard,
standard merchant style from long days on the road.
His bodyguards sat at the back of the first cart, facing outwards on either side.
Hed hired them back in the town of Hope after leaving the Gage City Petrolia
Mississauga caravan. Few merchants came out this far, so hed been stuck shouldering
the cost of bodyguards and rations himself, instead of the fee he would have paid to a
Caravan Master who would took care of all such details. Theyd been good company
thus far thanks to their high spirits, and despite their youth, both being in their early
twenties.
Ya know, Vince, said Billy, who had the poorly dyed green mohawk of a street
tough, The way youve been talking about these Landfall folk and their ale, if Verizon
here isnt shooting rainbows out of his ass after the first pitcher Ill be disappointed! His
voice was high pitched, and he had a smile on his face.
Before Vince could say anything, Verizon shouted, Shooting rainbows out of my
ass with your mother! On her trampoline! Oh!
Vince smiled and didnt reply. The mother-trampoline line was something
Verizon had been repeating constantly throughout the trip. Vince had no idea where it
had originated, or even if it had come from anywhere other than the lads own deranged
mind. Verizon was a smart ass and he was wearing a biker jacket with the sleeves torn
off, he had a mullet on top and wore aviator sunglasses. He certainly helped the time
pass.
The two bodyguards continued to banter back and forth as Vince guided the oxen
in silence. Theyd been on the road for two days already, and were looking forward to
reaching the town. Knowing they were getting close lifted everybodys spirits, and the
boys banter made Vince chuckle. He could already make out the line of smoke rising in
the sky from the hamlets coal flue, and the land on either side was flat and treeless, with
little threat of hidden banditry. Soon enough another trip would be through without
incident.
The two of them had been driving in silence for a while when Raxx spoke up
suddenly, You like driving too, eh?

Yeah, said Wentworth, nodding, When youre moving you leave your worries
behind. Theres nothing you can do about them.
Yeah, I hear ya.
A few more minutes passed then Wentworth said, Pull over just after this hill.
My bikes in a gully here.
Raxx pulled the vehicle over and shut off the engine. They both stepped out and
grabbed their weapons. Wentworth was wearing his jacket and helmet again, Raxx
before leaving had donned a pair of old football pads reinforced with boiled leather and
metal plates. He still had his revolver on his hip, but now he also carried his shotgun.
I know you said that the areas pretty quiet and theres not much banditry, but we
should still scout out the area before we get occupied with the motorcycle, said
Wentworth, We made a lot of noise arriving in your truck, and if theres anyone here
they know about us. That hill up there is one of the highest around, and it has enough
scrub that we can make our way up there with a good chance of not being seen. Thats
part of the reason why I chose this spot to leave my bike in yesterday.
Makes sense, said Raxx, You seem to know what youre doing so Ill just
follow your lead.
The whole time Wentworth had been scanning the area for anything that didnt fit.
After Raxx spoke he nodded and started off towards the hill motioning for him to follow
and keep his eyes on the way theyd come. He moved to the left side of the road and
immediately slid down into the ditch to make himself less visible. The hill hed indicated
started fifty metres from the road. Rather than walk directly to it he followed the
contours of the land, and didnt start climbing it until the hill was to the east. They were
now travelling parallel to the road. Once theyd started climbing the hill Raxx realized
the reason for their detour. The path they were now on had a great deal of brush on either
side. The kind of stuff that would make them difficult to see from far away, but since it
was close to them it posed very little impediment to their own long-distance observations.
As they neared the top Wentworth hunched over so that his torso was nearly
horizontal, and continued at a slower pace, carefully choosing where to step to avoid
unnecessary noise. Raxx imitated, and as they moved towards the top they both started
crawling.
Once they got to a good vantage point Wentworth motioned for Raxx to come
closer. He said in a hushed voice, Do you have binoculars or something?
Yeah, said Raxx. He pulled out a pair of plastic tourist binos. Hed coloured
the red plastic black with a marker long ago. Wentworth nodded. They werent top
notch, but theyd get the job done. Dont use them unless if you see something
suspicious. The glare from them could be noticed. He pointed toward the south-west,
indicating for Raxx to take that arc, then pointed towards himself and the north-east.
They both shuffled to better positions, and started scanning the horizon.
Five minutes later Raxx felt a kick on his boot. He looked behind him and
Wentworth was looking back at him. He nodded and they both started crawling back the
way theyd come. Once they reached the bottom of the hill Raxx whispered, Is it okay
to speak now?
Yeah. I didnt see anything. I take it you didnt either?
Nothing.
Wentworth nodded, You might think Im being paranoid, but I dont want to die
in a stupid way.

No worries. I dont either. That was some pretty hard core shit there, though. I
mean, dont get me wrong, I know how to use this, he hefted his shotgun, but Ive
never thought to go to those lengths before. Makes sense though.
Wentworth shrugged, Thanks.
So wheres this bike of yours? I was kinda looking around for it while we were
up there, but I couldnt spot it. By this time theyd made their way back to the road.
Its right there. Raxx looked where Wentworth was pointing and didnt see
anything but the wooded valley south of the highway. He kept looking while Wentworth
stood there with a slight smile on his face, when all of a sudden his eyes went buggy. He
shook his head and looked again, then realized hed been staring at a camouflage net
about fifty metres off in amongst some bushes. Hah! he barked, nice! Your bike is
under the cloth there?
Wentworth confirmed this.
Alright, well tell you what Ill look over the bike, you stay on the rifle and cover
my back.
With that the two of them walked over, Wentworth carried his rifle in both hands,
while Raxx had his shotgun slung across his back. Hed picked up a toolbox and the
transmission chain from his truck. They reached the bike and Raxx pulled the cam net
off. The bike was a cruiser, built for long distance riding and heavy loads. The leather
saddle bags on the back were voluminous, and the body was a metallic grey, non
reflective. It was rust free and appeared in good working order, aside from the broken
transmission chain. Raxx kneeled by the side of the bike and compared the original chain
with the one hed brought.
Good news, its the same grade. Im going to check the motor now. He opened
up the engine cover and continued tooling with the machine. Occasionally hed start it up
and listen to the engine, or adjust the pressure on various bolts and belts on the inside.
The chain shouldnt take me too long to fix. The engine might be another story. Tell
you what all together, how about we say an estimate of eight-hundred and fifty?
Wentworth nodded, I can afford that.
Alright then. Ill get started on replacing the chain, and then well bring the bike
back to town so I can poke around at the engine. You might want to step back, Im going
to have to do some welding and if youre too close it could damage your eyes.
Wentworth did as Raxx suggested, scanning the area while Raxx worked on the
bike. After a while Raxx put down the welder and lifted up the mask.
Im just going to go over a few more things while Im here, he went back to
working on the bike, looking at the engine and watching the chain as he turned the engine
on and off, finishing up a few minutes later. Well thats it for now. You want to help
me tie her down on the back of the truck?
Sure thing.
While Wentworth packed the cam net up, and walked the bike over to the truck,
Raxx pulled a wooden plank out of the truck bed to use as a ramp. Together they hauled
the bike up the ramp, and secured it with chains. Then they both got into the cab and
took off back towards Blackstock.
Vince rode the wagon into town, heading towards the market. As he rode he
waved to people on the street. He tried to make it into town two or three times a year.
Being one of the few strangers who came by at all, he was well known.

Behind him Billy and Verizon were unloading and clearing their weapons, the
rifles wouldnt be necessary in a quiet town like Blackstock
Hey, Billy, said Verizon, how about that sheep over there? Is she more your
type?
Fuck you, Verizon. From now on its William Buckley to you.
Whats that, Prince Billington you say?
Fuck you, and the horse you rode in on!
The horse with your mother on a trampoline! Oh!
Alright, quiet down lads, said Vince, youre going to give the good folks here
the wrong impression. He guided the oxen over next to the beige, brick building next to
the marketplace, nodding and waving to the merchants, and making sure to avoid the
children who were darting about his wagons, excited at the presence of the stranger.
Stay here and look after the goods. Im just going to speak to the Councilman and get
my booth sorted out. After we do that, and get the stuff secured, well go over to
Landfalls and Billy, then you can watch Verizon shoot rainbows out of his arse!
Vince dismounted, and strolled over to the doors of the brick building. There was
still a plaque out front which read OPP Det. 42 Blackstock, and the words Police
Station were still emblazoned above the double doors, but inside there were only a few
clerical officials working. With the decline in population, the police force had become
unnecessary. Blackstock only numbered a couple hundred people. The occasional
disputes which arose could be resolved by the Councilman and a single constable,
deputized for the duration of the incident then released.
The inside of the building had been converted. The front desk and the small
office portion just inside the door remained essentially unchanged. There were still a
couple of clerks working them, and the Chiefs office had been taken over by the
Councilman, but aside from that corner most of the interior walls had been ripped out to
provide storage area for the machines and supplies which were communally owned.
Well, if it isnt Vince McGraw! the bubbly receptionist behind the counter
noticed him as soon as he walked in, And such good timing, too! Theres a stranger in
town hey, Ill bet Councilman Vree will want to see you about him! Give me a sec to
ask her.
Without giving Vince a chance to reply, the redheaded receptionist, Vince thought
her name was Marie, dashed around the corner to alert the Councilman. Vince didnt
have to wait long for her to return.
She came back and grabbed Vince by the hand, pulling him towards the office,
Yes, she wants to see you right away. Ooh, I hope you get your booth set up soon.
Have you brought in any more of that New Yorker jewellery you had last time? I showed
my cousin Conny the necklace I bought from you last time, and she loves it and wants to
buy her own! Okay, heres the office, Ill see you later Vince!
Vince walked through the door Marie held open for him, then took the knob and
closed it behind him. He looked at the Councilman and let out a sigh.
She could talk the leg off a mule, he said.
Ah, youth, Ester Williamson had been the Councilman for twenty years. She
was one of the oldest citizens of Blackstock, and her natural aptitude for history and law,
combined with her quiet demeanour, maintained the farmers faith in her to run what was
mainly a management position, keeping track of contracts and overseeing such things as
seed production and storage.

She seldom had any need to use the full extent of her powers, and that was how
she liked it. Sometimes I think that Marie does more of the running of this place than
me. Shes always dumping the next job on my lap before Ive even decided what its
going to be. Ah, well. I suppose she told you why you got called into here instead of
arranging your market stall like we normally do?
Yes, something about a stranger in town.
Ester laughed, She barged in here just now telling me about how youd just
arrived, and that shed bring you in to tell me if you knew anything about the stranger.
Not that Im complaining, its what I would have done an hour later. See what I mean
about her doing the job for me? But yes, there is a stranger in town. The strange thing is
he came from the east. I dont think weve ever had someone come in from that way, so
people are a bit suspicious, not that hes done anything. You get around a lot more than
anyone here, so I suppose I might as well ask you if you know him. Ever hear of a guy
named Wentworth?
Vince had been sitting there bemused as Ester related the situation to him. Small
towns could get quite the bee in their bonnet from a stranger being around, he thought. It
was funny that Marie and now Ester thought hed know any random wanderer coming
through, but small town living could throw off a persons perspective that way, make
them underestimate the size of the wider world. His face was set in a friendly half-smile
until she finished by mentioning the strangers name.
Wait did you say Wentworth? As in Iain Wentworth?
I didnt hear anything about a first name, just Wentworth.
Is he a tall, dark hair, dressed in black? With a motorcycle and a longarm of
some sort??
Youve heard of him? Thats what he looks like, and that boy who came in with
you some months back, Raxx, hes out trying to fix the mans motorcycle as we speak.
Vince, what have you heard?
Vince pulled over one of the chairs from the wall and sat down in it. He stroked
his beard while he thought, Honestly, not much. But the fact that Ive heard anything
speaks volumes. You know that Im part of the Southern Merchant Compact, right? We
stick to the southern Ontario region. Technically Blackstock here is outside of the
jurisdiction that it covers, so I dont have any insurance right now. But theres nobody
else who comes out this way, and theres no banditry either, so I figure I might as well,
right? I figure that its worth my time, and it helps you folks out too.
Anyways, when I was in Hope a few days back I got talking with some lads from
the Northern Route Trading Co.. They travel all over the smaller communities north and
east of hear, going to Pettawawa and the Ottawa valley. So we were sharing stories about
whats going on all over the place, and a bunch of them mentioned stories about this guy
called Iain Wentworth way out east, Ottawa ways. I remembered his name cause its the
same as a street in Gage City.
Apparently this guys been going around from town to town on his motorcycle
and trouble comes along with him. Some of the rumours say hes causing the trouble,
others say that someone else is hunting him. The stories, theyre all mixed up, and the
Traders, they all admit that theyve only got second-hand information to go on, and that
they dont really know whats going on. Theyre good that way, they dont make stuff up
if they dont know all the facts.

But all of this information was about three months old, were talking the
beginning of spring, and all of it happened a long ways east of here. So I cant tell you
anything definite, but Id be careful of him if I were you.
The Councilman shook her head, Im too old for this. Weve never had to deal
with this kind of stuff before. She steepled her fingers together, and leaned back in her
chair thinking for a few moments. Well, I guess Im going to have to send some runners
down to the fields to get some of the bigger boys in here and deputize them. When he
gets back well have to take care of him.
Wait a minute, Councilman, you said that he hasnt done anything yet. He
hasnt caused trouble, or even mouthed off to anyone yet?
Well no, I would have heard if he had. You said hes dangerous though,
whats your problem with us evicting him?
Vince shook his head, Aside from the problem of him being innocent of any
crime yet? The fact that youre underestimating him! Listen, if he is some kind of
troublemaker, hes one whos survived long enough to make a reputation for himself.
Trying to take him head on like that would be dangerous. Trust me on this you dont
get many people through here, but out West therere a lot of Cowboys and Indians who
come through towns. Some, if not most of them may be trouble out in the wastes
between towns, but while theyre in town theyre usually pretty quiet.
The local law enforcers know this; and they dont mess with them as long as
theyre law abiding at the time, and therere no warrants or bounties out on them. And if
there are these boys arent the type to go quietly. Trying to take down this Wentworth, or
even to evict him, just runs the risk of pissing him off. Its too dangerous.
Well what do you suggest then?
Wait it out. Hopefully once Raxx gets the mans bike fixed hell be on his way.
Just be prepared for the worst.
Alright Vince, you make sense, but youre not very comforting to an old woman
who just wants to relax with her grandchildren. Ill get together a council of the Seniors
to discuss this, and for now well wait. Id like you to be there to tell them first hand
what youve heard. Im not going to let some wanderer hurt my people you have my
word on that.

Chapter 4
Mad Dog woke from his slumber with a splitting headache. The noonday sun
burned down on him, he could feel it on his skin, and with his eyes close he saw nothing
but red. He was uncovered, having kicked the blankets off while sleeping. His air
mattress had deflated over the night, and he could feel all of the sharp edges of the earth
beneath poking through. He rolled over and got up, despite the hangover.
He was naked from the waist up, a giant of a man, with tattoos covering his body,
and the long blonde hair and beard of the Norse God he tried to be. The tattoo on his left
shoulder of a serpent striking had been burned off the night before in the unmarking
ceremony hed ordered. Picking up a bottle of disinfectant he sprayed it onto the red and
swollen area, ignoring both the sting and the ongoing throbbing throughout his arm.
He tossed on his leather jacket and started kicking the other members of is gang
awake. Wake up, Hounds! Get a move on things, lets get some food cooking.
Amidst grumbles the other gang members arose. All shared the burned off tattoo.
His lieutenant awoke and took charge of the meal preparations. Mad Dog
grabbed his canteen and went to the back of his Dune Buggy. He opened up the crate and
gazed with satisfaction on the stacks of Petrolia dollars contained therein. It wasnt really
all that much of a take home, but theyd survived the gangs civil war and that was the
main thing. Coming away with some loot was just gravy.
One of the younger members came over bringing him breakfast on a melmac
plate. He took it and sat down in the passenger seat of the buggy, looking at a map and
planning their route for the day while he ate.
His jacket was torn in places, and covered with the standard assortment of zippers
of a biker jacket. On the left shoulder, above where his Vipers tattoo had once been, was
a patch sewn in of a flaming dog. A Hellhound. His new symbol; his new gang.
Look alive, Hounds! Weve got a lot of travelling to do yet. We won, and we
had the celebration last night, but weve still got to move further east and find some new
settlements before anyone thats left comes after us. Those Mississauga pigs will figure
out they were played sooner or late. We leave in fifteen minutes, be prepared to mount
up.
It was with great satisfaction that he watched the gang his gang start packing
away the nights gear and preparing to move. They were like a well oiled machine. Soon
theyd find some settlements and it would be time to Bring It.
For the next week Wentworth, the stranger, was seen very little by most citizens
of Blackstock. The townsfolk gawked at his motorcycle, which lay in front of Raxxs
shop while he worked on the engine, but the man himself was seldom to be seen.
Vince managed to sway the Town Seniors to his point of view regarding
Wentworth. They agreed to play it cautious, keeping their concern a secret. As the days
went on, and the stranger did nothing notable, the rumours stopped and people went back
to normal.
Wentworth would occasionally be seen out front of the Landfalls in the morning,
sitting on the front porch watching the sun rise while drinking a cup of coffee and
smoking a cigarette. On his third day in town he alerted the Landfall family that hed be
disappearing for a couple days, so that they wouldnt claim his stuff. He walked off into
the country side with a backpack of food. Two days later he returned in the evening just
after sunset, saying nothing of where hed gone, or what hed done during his absence.

The evenings would often find him sitting in the upstairs portion of the bar in the
same seat hed sat in the first night, slowly nursing a pitcher of beer and watching the sun
go down, keeping to himself, aside from some nights when Raxx would join him.
Connys flu carried on keeping her bed ridden, so with little else to do he found himself
gravitating towards Wentworth who he discovered was a good conversationalist. Raxx
would discuss the work he was doing on the motorcycle, although Wentworth understood
little, other times theyd discuss philosophy, carrying on the conversation theyd had
during the truck ride and branching into other areas. Wentworth offered challenges to
Raxxs ideas which were unique and made him go back and rethink his positions, coming
up with better arguments for them. As for his own opinions however, the man remained
tight lipped, sticking to a Socratic method while they spoke.
While this was going on, Vince had his booth arranged and manned during the
day, taking breaks while Billy or Verizon took over. After failing to draw Wentworth
into a conversation the first night theyd seen him in the bar, the two bodyguards settled
back into the bantering that had been going on throughout the trip there, nodding at him
when they saw him, and engaging him in small talk while they played pool, but otherwise
paying no attention to him. Vince, for his part, would watch Wentworth out of the
corners of his eyes, but couldnt come up with a judgement on what the character of this
man might be. He was generally self effacing, polite, and seemed to have a good sense of
humour, taking things in stride. But he remained withdrawn, and Vince sensed
something dangerous inside of him. The relaxed self-confidence and his limber stride
might have been what ticked off his radar.
Things were beginning to settle into a routine a week after Wentworths arrival in
town when Councilman Vree showed up at Raxxs door one morning just as he was
waking up with a cup of coffee.
Good morning, Raxx. Hows the day finding you?
Um, okay, I guess. Whats up? It was too early to be dealing with anything, he
though, and he had no idea why Blackstocks Councilman would want to see him.
Im here because the Town Seniors would like to see you today. Theres a
matter theyd like to discuss with you. If it wouldnt be any trouble would you mind
joining me to go see them?
Uh, yeah, I guess so. Just let me finish this coffee.
Of course, Raxx.
Wentworth was stretched out in a sitting position on his bed reading a book when
there was a knock on his door.
Come in! he shouted.
Raxx turned the knob and stepped in. Wentworths bed was old and worn, and
the sheets were frayed. It was carved in a Victorian style, like the Landfalls building
itself. He was wearing jeans and a grey t-shirt, his jacket and helmet were thrown over a
wicker chair next to the bed. The room was done in a cheerful style.
Hey, man, said Raxx.
Hey, whats up? You got my bike working?
No, not quite yet. Listen . . . Raxx looked around at a loss, I need to go for a
drive. My trucks out front and Id like some company. You want to join me?

Wentworth memorized the page number in his book and slammed it shut. Yeah,
sure thing, he swung his feet off of the bed and started putting his boots on, Anywhere
specific that youre heading? he asked as he struggled into his jacket and clipped his
pistol to his belt..
Nah, just around.
Wentworth slipped a magazine into his rifle and slung it over his shoulder,
picking up his helmet with the same hand. Alright then, lets get going.
He locked up his room, and the two of them walked out through the bar. Raxxs
vehicle was on the road idling. Wentworth tossed his rifle into the backseat, next to
Raxxs shotgun, then the two of them jumped in and Raxx manoeuvred the vehicle onto
the highway.
As they drove Wentworth noticed a tension in Raxx which wasnt typical of him.
He wasnt acting like the cheerful and level-headed mechanic Wentworth had got to
know. Studying him out of the corner of his eye, he allowed Raxx to break the silence.
Finally after a minute or two he did. So what are you thinking about doing when
your bikes fixed? Going to keep heading west?
I dont know, replied Wentworth, Ive been considering your suggestion from
the other night about settling in Blackstock. It might not be a bad place to rest the feet for
a while. Raxx nodded but didnt say anything. The only thing is that I dont really
know what Id do with myself in the town. Unlike you, I dont really have any skills that
could help out the community. And being a farm hand doesnt exactly make the spirit
rise in me.
Yeah, I know what you mean. When youre stuck in a position like that, thats
pretty much it. Even if youre the farmer youre married to the land. Im lucky I found a
place that I can ply my trade to put food on the table.
You miss the road though.
Yes, I do. In some ways. But its good to know where your next meal is coming
from.
Despite the normalcy of his words, Wentworth thought Raxxs tone sounded
artificial. His facial expression remained tense throughout the conversation; as if there
were something he was hiding. A sudden suspicion arose in Wentworth. Hed had too
many close calls not to be cautious. Doing his best not to show it he relaxed his muscles
and focused his senses to pick up anything that might be coming. He kept his facial
expression blank.
So whats really going on? You had a specific reason for wanting to head out,
you didnt just want to go for a drive.
Raxx sighed, Yeah, I did . . . listen. The towns Councilman spoke to me today.
The Seniors know about you . . . your reputation. Your full names Iain Wentworth, isnt
it?
Wentworth just stared at him, not saying anything. Hed thought hed come far
enough. Two days travel by bike without any settlements worth mentioning. He thought
hed finally left it behind. But it hadnt been enough; the dogs were still nipping at his
heels. He glanced down at the pistol on Raxxs belt and noticed that the latch securing it
in the holster was undone. A deep sense of loneliness surged through him.
They know about the shit storm that follows you. They know

Wentworth shook his head and interrupted him, And now you want to give it a
shot too, earn yourself a bounty. You can try, but I wouldnt recommend it. You
wouldnt be the first, and you probably wont be the last, either. Id really hate what Id
have to do to you. I like you; but dont think I wont. He willed his limbs loose, ready
to respond in whatever manner would be necessary, and gave Raxx a dead stare.
Earn myself a bounty? Shot . . . what!?! suddenly Raxxs expression went from
tense to furious, For fucks sake! He hit the brakes hard, screeching the truck to a halt
at the side of the road. Behind his sunglasses his expression was frightening.
He got out of the truck, slamming the door behind him. He lit a smoke and walke
to the front of the vehicle, simmering.
After a couple of seconds Wentworth got out too, and walked over to Raxx,
Listen, I
You thought I was going to fucking kill you? To collect a bounty? Well Jesus
H. Motherfucking Christ, what do you take me for? I mean, for fucks sake man! Ive
only known you for a week, but still, you really think Id do that? Trick you into coming
out here so that I could shoot you? Whats the matter with you?
The anger began to rise in Wentworths chest, Whats the matter with me? Do
you have any idea how many people out there have betrayed me, tried to put a bullet in
my head while they had my trust, or when I was sleeping? Do you have any idea what
its like to be hunted?
Hey, I dont know what kind of shits been following you, but you just called me
a murdering piece of shit, thats the way I see it. Just because youre paranoid doesnt
mean you should be taking it out on me.
Paranoid? Fuck yes Im paranoid! How else do you think Im still alive, if
youve heard so much about me? You trick me into driving out with you into the middle
of nowhere, you start pulling some spy bullshit about knowing who I am, while youre
holsters undone and your pistols ready!
What? Look, the goddamned thing just came undone, alright? Here, Im doing
it up. And if youd bothered to look the actions not even cocked back. I mean,
goddamnit!
Oh, Jesus Christ! He threw up his arms, then lit his own cigarette and the two of
them stood there, leaning against the grill of the truck, ignoring each other and smoking.
The finished their cigarettes and flicked them to the ground. Then they each lit up
another one.
Finally after a few minutes had passed Wentworth spoke, Listen Im sorry. I
didnt mean to disparage your character.
Yeah, fine.
No, seriously; Ive had a lot of people after me, and a lot of close calls. It makes
a guy nervous, and a bit paranoid. I over reacted. I apologize, sincerely. Will you accept
it? he reached out his hand to Raxx.
Raxx looked at him for a moment, then took his hand and shook it, Alright. I
guess I can understand; I wont take it the wrong way.
Glad to hear it, he took a pull on his cigarette and looked into the rising sun,
So what was it then that you wanted to talk to me about?

Lets keep moving and Ill tell you. The two of them got back into the vehicle
and Raxx fired her up. Once they were moving at a good clip again he started speaking
Like I was saying, rumours about you have reached the people who run Blackstock.
Theyre nervous that trouble is going to follow you and show up on their doorstep. That
seems to have happened a few times. Theyve now enlisted me, since they know weve
been talking, to try and get rid of you.
Basically, Im supposed to get you to leave town as soon as your bike is fixed
without pissing you off enough to cause them trouble, he shook his head, I think Ive
spoken to you enough to know that youre not a monster, but theyre scared of you. I
tried to talk reason to them, but they wouldnt listen. Man . . . thats what I took you out
to tell you. It pissed me off, thats why I wanted to drive. All I can say is that Im sorry
man.
Wentworth looked out the window at the scenery passing by and flicked out his
cigarette, I cant say I blame them, to be honest. Trouble has been following me. I can
tell you that its not really my fault, but that doesnt matter. You have to take care of
your own first and thats what theyre doing. The cold loneliness with which he was so
familiar swept over him again. He looked over at Raxx, I enjoyed our conversations.
But youve got a life here and I dont. I appreciate everything especially getting my
bike back in working order. But its about time for me to move on again. He sighed,
Lets turn back around so that you can get my bike fixed and I can get out of
everybodys hair.
Sorry man.
Dont be.
Raxx slowed the truck, then made a U-turn on the road. There was nothing left to
say between them. Wentworth took the sudden stillbirth of what hed thought to be a
promising friendship in stride. Hed been there before, he was used to being the stranger
in a city full of cold faces. He lit up another smoke and stared down the highway in front
of him.
While he stared he contemplated what he was going to do next. Just in case he
was still being followed if theyd heard of him in Blackstock this was certainly a
possibility then asking for directions to the nearest town would be a mistake, it would
leave a trail for them to pick up on. Better to take Raxxs comments about civilization
back west and head for the setting sun, seeing if he could find it.
As they drove Wentworth noticed something in the distance, Say, he said, Isnt
that a lot of smoke for the coal flue to be producing? Were still a ways away.
Raxx leaned forward and peered out the window, Hmm. It is a lot of smoke, its
not the coal flue. Probably a grass fire they happen this time of year. Shouldnt be
anything to worry about.
They continued driving, but as they were getting closer the smoke was getting
denser. It was forming a black column, rising and spreading out across the sky.
Wentworth took another drag on his cigarette. That grassfire must be huge.
Look at it all. Are you sure the city will be okay?
Yeah, there is a lot of smoke. The city should be fine, but Im worried about the
farm fields. They have burn lines to protect them, but that is a lot of smoke. It could be
bad. He spoke with a measured indifference, knowing that there was nothing he could
do about it at the present. A wrinkle on his brow betrayed an underlying anxiety,
however.

The closer they got to the town the thicker the smoke got. It looks a lot thicker
than youd expect from a grassfire, said Raxx, studying it with concern.
Yeah, youre right. Its too dark, agreed Wentworth. He flicked his cigarette
out the window and moved to roll it back up when Raxx spoke.
Wait a second. Wentworth waited, not sure what Raxx wanted, Do you smell
that?
Wentworth sniffed the air. He realized that theyd come close enough to be able
to smell the smoke. Mixed in with the smell of burning wood was that of gasoline, and
the smell of scorched meat. Shit, he said.
Shit, agreed Raxx.
They continued on, neither speaking, neither wanting to give voice to the
scenarios they were envisioning. Raxx was bent over the steering column, staring
intently at the road ahead of him as if it could tell him what lay over the next hill. His
hand found its way down to his hip and squeezed the revolver secured there. Wentworth
grabbed his rifle from the back and adjusted it so that the butt was just under his armpit,
with it lying across his lap at a forty-five degree angle. His thumb started nervously
flicking the safety.
Im not sure what this is, said Wentworth, but I can honestly tell you its not
connected to me this has never been their modus operandi. Unless if theyve drastically
changed tactics. Its me theyre after.
Raxx just nodded, not responding.
The truck finally crested the hill, and the town Wentworth had barely got to know
lay stretched out before them. It was the source of the smoke. Raxx slowed the vehicle
and eventually stopped just slightly into the main street. The two men stepped out of the
truck slowly, weapons in hand, but relaxed. Neither thought theyd have to use them. As
theyd begun to fear it was the town which had been burning.
There had been no movement as theyd driven into town, and the only sound was
the crackling of several fires, spreading from the quick burning thatch roofs to the slower,
bubbling tar roofs of the older buildings. The smell of burning wood seemed somehow
obscene when it was coming from burning buildings - homes, and it was almost
overwhelming, but beneath it were other scents that the mind couldnt ignore. Meat.
Sweat and body odour. Gunpowder. Excrement. It overwhelmed, and made their legs
rubbery. Both of them felt light headed.
Wentworth was the first one to notice a body. A trail of blood led from the street
to one of the doorways, as if the victim had been dragged or had crawled to the illusion of
safety. It had been a futile effort. The victim probably a child of about ten to fourteen
years, or a small woman maybe had died curled up in the doorway. The building must
have caught fire after they died, or maybe they just hadnt noticed the fire in their haze of
pain. Positive identification was impossible because the roof of the building had
collapsed. From the chest up the body had been caught in the inferno, it was the source,
or at least a source, of the sweet meat smell. The skin had charred black, and the arms
had been thrown up into a bent position above the head as the heat of the fire dried and
tightened tendons, while the lower half of the body remained relaxed in perfect condition.
Wentworth could make out flower designs on the sandals shed been wearing. He didnt
ask Raxx if he could identify them.

Raxx was surprised with a sudden and violent nausea. His first heave flew
horizontally across the street before he could grab the truck for support and expel the rest
of breakfast onto the ground. Wentworth looked towards his rear and saw the bar hed
met Raxx at the night before. A sudden pang went through him.
I thought Id left this kind of shit behind. The internal turmoil hed been feeling
for days stepped up a notch and he began to feel dizzy confused emotions swirled
around in his chest, and his face flushed.
Raxx regained his composure, and looked over at Wentworth. His face was pale,
but his eyes were dancing with hurt and anger. These were good people. This shouldnt
have happened. This was a quiet area his eyes dropped to the ground, darted to the
feed store Wentworth remembered that a guy named Bill owned it then back to the
ground again, and around to several other buildings while he took a moment to steel
himself before looking backup at Wentworth. He was breathing in pants. Goddamnit!
He yelled, pacing now.
Dude, I . . . Wentworth had been about to say again that this wasnt connected
to him. But somehow dodging blame seemed weak and petty with all of the carnage
around them. He closed his mouth, as still the emotions swirled around him. For a
second he though he heard a gunshot, but it was just memory. Along with it came a wash
of anger that cleared the other emotions away.
Im going after whoever did this! said Raxx, eyes ablaze, Listen, I his eyes
dropped down for a second, I could use a man of your skills with me. You know what
youre doing, you showed me that back where your bike was, and that just backs up your
reputation. He shook his head and looked down again, But this isnt your fight. Fuck,
its not even mine, not really, Ive only known these people for a few months. But Ive
got to do something. . . he silently mouthed the word Conny, So what Im saying is
is Id appreciate it if youd help me. But, he sighed, but if you dont want to get
involved Ill understand.
Wentworth looked at Raxx for a moment, then down at his rifle. With a sudden
move he cocked the weapon, and with a hard metallic noise the bolt slid forward then
back, and the first round of the magazine slid into the chamber. He quickly hit the
forward assist and closed the ejection port with his right hand. He looked back at Raxx
and jabbed his finger at him; the swirl of emotions had crystallized as his face flushed
with rage. We are going to find the dirty fucks that did this. Were going to find them,
and I promise you when we do we are going to hit them so hard that there wont even be
a memory of who they were. We will take them out of history, his back straitened as the
rage cooled and turned hard inside of him, Lets go make some food for the wasteland.

Chapter 5
They spent several hours preparing before they eventually left town, by which
point the sun had settled into a mid-afternoon glare. The town had been empty of living
people. Although theyd remained cautious while exploring it neither expected whoever
had done it to stick around. They found more corpses, however, and Wentworth saw a
flicker in Raxxs eyes which each one. They discovered the tracks of several All Terrain
Vehicles on the southwest side of town cutting through the soya fields and cow pastures.
Several of the animals lay dead, and Raxx mentioned that he thought some might be
missing.
The route the raiders had come from went over rough terrain. Blackstock lay on a
slight ridge and through his binoculars Wentworth could make out the torn shrubs and
brush which evidenced the raiders passage. They seemed to be off-roading for the most
part which meant that Raxx and Wentworth would have to abandon the truck. Even if the
motorcycle had been working it would have flipped too easily, and the frame of the
pickup wouldnt have survived the abuse, even with its modified tires.
After finding the traces that the raiders had left the two of them returned to
Raxxs home and garage to pack their rucksacks with the equipment theyd need.
Wentworth went through his duffle and saddlebags finding anything he thought might be
necessary, but leaving behind things like sleeping kit and extra clothes, aside from a spare
set of socks. He hoped that theyd be able to catch up with the raiders at some point
during the night, and speed was more important than comfort. He noticed Raxx was
packing a number of off-white bricks into his bag from a pile stacked up next to an old
bathtub in the garage portion of his building. He asked Raxx what they were.
A side project of mine: C4. I found a recipe for it a while back and after some
very careful experimentation I managed to brew this up. Theres a small market for it
with the locals and the Vince the merchant that come through. He said all of this with a
dead pan expression looking down at the packing job he was doing, then suddenly looked
up at Wentworth, C4s a high explosive. Once youve made it, its extremely stable.
Uses an electric primer and a secondary explosive to set it off, he said matter of factly.
Wentworth nodded, though he knew this already. They finished packing and
headed out.
The tracks were fairly easy to follow. The raiders had seemed to take a positive
joy in tearing up any living thing in their path, and where the earth was soft enough to
show there were a number of tracks left behind, vehicles and footprints, and along the
entire route was the occasional cow pie. Wentworth guessed that there were a dozen
ATVs of various sorts with different sizes of wheelbase. The tracks followed the natural
contour of the land veering off towards the south, making Wentworth wonder if the
raiders had been attempting to frustrate pursuers or simply had little notion of how to
travel overland in any sort of decisive manner. More likely the latter.
Raxx remained quiet as the trip progressed. Wentworth glanced at him
occasionally, worried that he was going to start manifesting the sorts of mental
aberrations that would result in suicidal heroism, but although he looked morose he still
appeared lucid. As for himself he felt more focused than he had in weeks, possibly
months. Things, right then, were clear for him. After half an hour he decided to start up
a conversation to try and ease tensions. He went over the different hand signals and
tactics he knew. He discussed the different manners for implementing shotguns and
rifles. He went over formations and movement techniques.

Raxx was reticent at first, asking few questions and responding mainly with nods
and grunts, but as the conversation went on he began speaking more.
So what do you think were looking at here? You said there were tracks left by
about a dozen vehicles or so, do you think were going to run into a small biker gang?
Wentworth nodded, I think so, that or something like it. What we saw back in
Blackstock was the sort of random violence you get from marauders; it didnt look
targeted or directed. I cant even think of anything to target in the town can you?
Raxx shook his head, Its just a small farming community, a fair ways off from
any other townships. Theres nothing anybody could want with it, except he looked
down and shook his head at the morbid thought, leaving the sentence hanging.
Wentworth nodded, Except for me, yeah. But they probably wouldnt have done
anything if I hadnt been there its not like anybody in town would have kept secret
where we were. Now you said that previous to this the areas been pretty quiet. And
youve been here for six months? Raxx nodded, and the merchants that come in
havent said anything about attacks?
Nothing this big, and nothing consistent. Just occasional shit, he shook his head
while looking at Wentworth, No patterns that Ive heard of.
Then Id guess that these guys arent headed to any sort of permanent
encampment. They might be squatting in some abandoned buildings at most. Im really
not getting the impression that they have any clue what the fuck theyre doing. They
dont seem like professionals. Showing up with motorized vehicles and guns blazing is
enough to terrify most people, and the panic would work to their advantage. Lets say
that therere thirty of them. Thats what I figure their vehicles could hold from the tracks
we saw. Thats more than enough to take on a couple hundred civilians.
Civilians? thought Raxx, Thats an interesting turn of phrase.
So Im guessing theyve been run out of some community west of here and now
theyve decided to take a try at slaving. If we hit them right theyll be disorganized and I
think we can take them out if were careful. Of course, Ill have to wait till we get there
and I can see what sort of
Look. While Wentworth had been talking he hadnt been paying attention to
where they were going, and now Raxx pointed down the track about a hundred metres
ahead. There was a body lying there.
They both started jogging, Look out for an ambush! said Wentworth, and they
both scanned the horizon while they jogged. The land was free of any major cover, so
the chances were slim, but this was not a time that either of them felt like letting their
guard down.
As they neared the body they realized it was man in his mid thirties, and he was
still alive. Raxx spoke up, Its Vince, hes that trader I mentioned, he came into town a
few days ago! Vince, without his hat, had thinning black hair, and was laying on his
back. His skin had a waxy appearance where it wasnt covered with blood and grime,
and as the two of them approached he looked at them through half closed eyes.
Water? he asked, stretching out his arm towards them.
Wentworth was the first one to get his canteen free from his hip pouch. He
kneeled down and cradled the mans head in his lap, lifting it up so that he could sip
comfortably. While he did this Raxx kneeled on the other side and checked his body for
wounds. He quickly noticed a swelling on the right ankle.
Vince took the water in slowly, showing that he had experienced dehydration
before. Very little was spilled, and his skin slowly regained its colour.

Thank you, he said hoarsely, Between the stress, the ankle, and the sun I was
pretty fucked up. With a groan he lifted himself into a sitting position, leaving his right
leg sticking out straight while he tucked the left one in. He ran his hand through his hair,
I must have passed out for a while there. Thanks, he nodded at Raxx then looked at
Wentworth, Youre youre that guy. I thought you were with the, the
Im Wentworth, and I was with Raxx here when they attacked. As far as I know,
they have nothing to do with me. Hows that ankle of yours?
Sprained, I think.
Raxx said, Can I take off your shoe? We should get that thing tied up. With
care he removed Vinces shoe while the man winced in pain, then slowly rolled the sock
down. He placed his fingers against the swelling and he could feel the heat radiating off
of it, Yeah, it looks like its just a sprain, but its still pretty bad. Im going to tie it off
with your sock, okay? Vince nodded, and he went to work. Wentworth gave him his
canteen while Raxx did this and Vince quickly finished off the last of the water. That
should help, said Raxx, but I dont think youll be able to walk for a few days.
Thanks a lot, guys, if you hadnt come along I dont know what I would have
done. Uh, Wentworth? I guess youre looking for that the rest of the town?
Wentworth confirmed this, Is there anything you can tell us about the guys who
raided Blackstock? Like I said, we were out of town when it all went down.
Vince shook his head at the memory, They came into town about mid-morning.
The only warning we had was the sound of their engines in the distance, and the screams
of the cattle as they came through their fields shooting them for no reason! They were
all mounted on dune buggies and they were screaming and laughing the whole time.
Nobody knew what to do. There was no organization, and the few people who
pulled out weapons to fight back got mowed down without taking out any of the
gangsters. Id left my gun behind in my room at the time, I was sitting at Landfalls
eating breakfast, which I guess makes me one of the lucky ones. Both of my guards. . .
O, goddamnit. They were young . . . he shook his head, then went on with the story.
After taking down what little resistance there was and making a few examples of
people who struggled they herded everyone into the centre of Main Street. Some of them
started setting fire to the buildings while the guy who I assume was their leader addressed
the citizens.
He was a huge man with a beard, and he was wearing a Viking helmet the kind
with horns coming out of either side. He was a nutter, he started referring to himself in
the third person, calling himself Mad Dog, and telling everyone how they were now his
cattle, the property of the hellhounds. I swear he was getting off seeing the kiddies
crying. But fuck, Ill admit it; he scared me too. He was a big guy, and he knew how to
project, plus theres the rest of his gang riding around on their vehicles and shouting war
cries.
Vince shrugged, So they started herding us between the vehicles back to their
base, or whatever. Id been kicked in the gut during the attack, so I wasnt feeling too
good, and then I busted my ankle in one of the vehicle ruts. So then those assholes
decide to kick me a few more times, but I couldnt move, so they left me here. I thought
they were going to shoot me, but maybe they were saving the ammo. I guess theyre still
moving the rest of the people as we speak, he sighed, Im glad you guys came out this
way because you saved my ass, but there are at least two dozen of them. Unless if
anyone else was lucky enough to bust an ankle, theres nothing we can do.

Those Hellhounds are nasty and there are a lot of them. Those lads aint afraid
to shoot. He looked honestly regretful for saying this and Wentworth could see that he
meant it. It wasnt callousness, just straight up honesty. Wentworth looked at Raxx and
saw that the resolve was still in his eyes.
What sort of weapons did they have? asked Wentworth.
Uh weapons? I dont know. Pistols and rifles I guess. Listen, Im serious,
youd be stupid to go after them. Dont be a dead hero.
Raxx interjected, Maybe well be lucky enough to catch them sleeping. We
gotta check it out at least, right? There could be more survivors.
Yeah I guess youre right. But I dont want to see you guys biting it with the
rest of them. Dont get me wrong I liked Blackstock, hell, I barely broke even coming
out this way, but I did it because the people were refreshing from the assholes you get out
west in Petrolia. If there were only five or six guys, sure . . . but twenty or thirty? Well,
listen, just dont do anything stupid. Remember, if you guys bite it then Im probably
going to die out here in the middle of nowhere Im going to need help getting back to
civilisation with a broken ankle. Now their Boss, Viking Helmet, was yelling at the rest
of them to, ahem, whip the spirit into those cattle if you want to be home by nightfall
so Im guessing that wherever they are it cant be much further. If you keep going you
should get there by midnight. Now as for me, would you mind helping me over to that
tree over yonder? This sun is killing me, and it would be good to have some shade while
Im waiting for you guys to come back.
They helped Vince up and put his arms around their shoulders, then helped
support him as he hopped towards the shade a short distance away. After setting him
down Wentworth pulled out a combat knife hanging from his belt and handed it to Vince,
telling him to use it if the coyotes got uppity. Vince thanked them again, and they
resumed following the trail.
The sun was in its final arc of the day. The landscape turned red with it and
Wentworth started moving faster; the trail would be harder to follow in the dark. A
headwind started up.
Listen, Raxx, about what Vince said well check things out when we get there.
And if these . . . Hellhounds are the jackasses I think they are were going to be okay,
alright?
Raxx nodded, Yeah, Ill do what I can. Now that were getting closer Im
getting a bit worried though. I dont have any experience with this kind of thing. I killed
a man once, this idiot at a bar who didnt like the way I looked he sighed, Im not
bragging.
Yeah, I know.
I regret it. Honestly, I wish Id just never gone to that bar in the first place. That
guy was a shit head, but he didnt deserve to die the way he did, yknow? I didnt have
much choice, but its not something Im particularly happy about.
Yeah, I know buddy. Listen, the first time he stopped speaking suddenly and
grabbed at the Datapad on his belt. Oh shit. He said after examining it for a second.
He put it away and stopped dead in his tracks, putting the rifle down and taking off his
pack, while Raxx looked on confused.
Whats up? asked Raxx, but Wentworth didnt respond, he started rifling
through his pack.

Take these. He handed Raxx a couple of pills from a bottle taken out of his
ruck. He quickly shook out two more pills into his hand and took them, gesturing for
Raxxs canteen. Raxx give him his canteen and learn why Wentworth had wanted it after
taking the pills.
Fuck, those tasted like shit! I feel like the back of my tongues burning off! he
said after washing them down. What was that about?
Wentworth looked pissed, Those fucking idiots. Were entering a fallout zone.
That wind must have washed it over us. Those pills I gave you are potassium-iodide
pills. Your thyroid absorbs iodide, and its one of the first things to become radioactive
when theres a source of radiation. But your body can only absorb so much iodide. Low
levels of radiation only harm you if the particles get ingested into your body so by
taking these pills you overdose your system and any irradiated iodide that enters your
system will be flushed out without harming you.
What about the people from Blackstock?
Wentworth glared, Exactly. Well just have to hope the wind starts blowing the
other way soon, for their sakes. We should stop to eat now before the fallout gets any
worse. Well need full stomachs when we go into battle.

Chapter 6
The ate quickly, trying to expose the food to the air as little as possible, keeping
the bags it was in half-closed and eating in a hunched over sitting position. The both took
quick swigs from Raxxs canteen and within ten minutes they were on the move again.
They walked with greater urgency than before. Wentworth explained about his
Datapad to Raxx, it was a handheld computing device, this particular one had a prewar
military package. It was loaded with several different sensors, including a Geiger
counter, it was designed to be army-proof, and held a massive library of files
Wentworth had installed on it to boot. It kept vibrating periodically as they moved.
Whenever he checked it showed only minor fluctuations in the radiation levels. The
headwind continued.
For a while Wentworth worried that theyd lost the trail. Theyd hit an arid patch
of land. The thick grasses and occasional patch of bushes had given way to only the
lightest bits of scrub. The earth was hard packed here, cracked, and showed no evidence
of any overland travel that might have occurred. The wind picked up the dust and blew it
in their faces. Although they had their eye protection, Wentworths goggles and Raxxs
sunglasses, it stung their faces and hands leaving them sore and red. Aside from the
occasional patches of grass growing between the cracks, the sole benefactors of some low
lying water seep, there were tiny branching coral-like growths. Pale grey-green lichens
only a few centimetres high, with red tips where further growth was slowly occurring.
They looked alien, as if they belonged at the bottom of the sea.
They continued going in a straight direction and after sometime noticed Brahmin
scat a little ways off to their left. They were still on the right track. Eventually the dry
plain turned back into softer grasslands where the violence of the raiders passage was
once again made evident.
The Hell Hound leader, Mad Dog, must have been exaggerating when he urged
on his followers. Even with their delay of several hours, Wentworth and Raxx reached
the raiders encampment just before sunset. The red light beamed horizontally across the
earth into their faces, and even with the polarized lenses on his goggles it was difficult for
Wentworth to see. It wouldnt have made much difference if they were going the other
way though. Evening twilight was upon them with its deceptive light. It was easy to
make the mistake that one could see more than was actually the case.
The first sign of their impending approach was the diesel fumes. You smell
that? said Raxx, were getting close. The land here was getting hilly again. The
shade provided by the hills helped the plant life, and the small valleys concentrated
rainwater. There was a great deal of bush here, even a fair number of trees, but the
fallout had left half of them dead years ago. Their trunks black and twisted like
something out of a childs nightmare, those that were still alive were just as twisted and
their leaves showed strange mottled colour patterns.
They followed the contours of the valleys as they approached, keeping out of
sight until they heard voices up ahead. Excited shouting that couldnt quite be made out.
They located a rise with cover and little bracken, the noise from which might give away
their position, and they ascended cautiously making sure not to silhouette themselves
against the sky. When they reached the top, crawling on their bellies by this point, they
could make out the old pre-war building the raiders had set up camp in.

It was not more than fifty meters distant. The surrounding plant life must have
killed the noise more effectively than Wentworth had expected, this was closer than he
had expected or would have liked to be. Hold still, he muttered to Raxx. But the Hell
Hounds didnt appear to be feeling particularly vigilant, and in the twilight the low
hanging tree branches in front of them would be ample cover. They settled in and
observed quietly.
The main building was a two story concrete structure with a tar roof. It was still
in excellent condition, just filthy with vertical streaks on its sides from acid rain and
filthy air. It had industrial stamped all over it, an unimaginative grey box. What had
been the back of the building, from their perspective on the right, looked to have been
where the administration offices were kept. The last ten metres were only one story high.
The front half of the building had only the occasional small window set on the ground
floor, like a warehouse or some sort of vehicle bay. In the middle of the building was an
open garage door where the two halves of the building were separated. They couldnt
make out anything on the interior.
The main structure was surrounded by a paved area and a chain link fence, barbed
wire at the top. The only opening was on the south side to their left, a large rolling gate
lay off its tracks on the ground next to a paved road headed south. One of the larger
ATVs was parked across the gate and the others were in a row out front. This building
was the roads end of the line. Inside the compound were piles of machine parts, a
forklift, and yellow plastic barrels covered with the accumulated dirt of decades. There
were several smaller fenced in areas at the back of the compound. Cages. The
townspeople were being them. The Brahmin were wandering all over.
The Raiders had set up a large bonfire outside of the garage door. There was an
empty spit overtop of it, and a various makeshift benches had been set up in a circle
around it. The raiders were celebrating their successful raid with alcohol theyd probably
stolen from Blackstocks bar. They were shouting and milling about. One pair had
gotten into a fist fight while half a dozen others circled around them and cheered them
on. Some of them had village women sitting on the ground next to them, their faces tear
streaked and broken.
Those fuckers started Raxx.
Ignore it, ordered Wentworth, Dont think about it. We need to stay calm or
we wont be able to help anyone. Weve got a job to do.
After the fight broke out their leader called things to order. Wentworth observed
him carefully. Mad Dogs Viking helmet was just a couple of bull horns strapped onto
a normal combat helmet. It was the most idiotic thing hed ever seen. Id put a round
into him for that helmet alone, he thought to himself. He was wearing the same rag-tag
hardened leather as the rest of them. Like many of the others there was some sort of
patch sewn onto his left shoulder, probably a red dog representing a Hellhound, but it was
too far to be sure. His speech was that of a braggart, full of empty pomp and bravado,
Thats right you assholes, youre real heroes, Wentworth quickly tuned out the bragging.
He counted twenty-two of them, roughly what hed expected. They were mostly carrying
pistols, though one had a crossbow, and there were a few shotguns. The best thing they
had was a hunting rifle with iron sights.
We need to sit and observe for a while, he said to Raxx, I need to see what
theyre going to do after night falls before I can come up with a plan, so were going to
be waiting here a while.

The sun was slowly setting when Wentworths Datapad vibrated again. The
bonfire was surely killing the Hellhounds eyesight, so he slowly pulled it out. The rad
count had almost doubled since the last time hed checked. Nothing to do about it now,
so he simply set it down next to him.
The leader had finished his speech and the raiders were getting back to
celebrating when out of the corner of his eye Wentworth noticed movement by the front
gate. The breeze had stirred a metal sign which was barely hanging on, it was flipped
upside down and facing towards the interior of the compound. He slowly reached for his
binoculars and used them to read the sign. There was still just enough light.
Ontario Power Generation
Pickering Plant Temporary Storage Facility #012
Federal Government Property
NO TRESPASSING
He didnt like where this was going. He slowly put down the binos and punched
in Pickering Plant OPG into his Datapads database search engine. It was, as hed
feared, one of the pre-war nuclear power plants. He picked up his binos again and
examined some of the yellow barrels. Underneath the caked earth he could barely make
out part of a radiation warning label.
Raxx was watching him do this and waiting for him to explain. This building
was a temporary storage facility for nuclear waste before the war. Those yellow barrels?
They contain radioactive material. Some of them must be leaking. Those stupid, stupid
fucks have decided to take up kip in a fallout area. When we go in its critical that
whatever you do, dont shoot any of the barrels. Right now were just dealing with
secondary radiation - airborne particles irradiated by the waste. If any of the barrels
become punctured those pills wont do anything to help us, he looked Raxx in the eyes,
and yes this means its a lot worse for those people in there. Lets hope these fucks pass
out soon.
Whenever youre ready. Are you sure we can handle them? Were pretty
fucking outnumbered.
Wentworth just stared straight ahead for a second, Yes. Yes we can. Listen, Im
going to do a cloverleaf around the compound. Im going to back up a ways, then hop
around to examine the building from each side. Do you mind staying here and keeping
an eye on what theyre doing?
No problem. The next hour and a half were unpleasant for Raxx. He found
Conny among the survivors. He saw what was done to her and was not comforted. He
watched it all, not just with her but with most of the women. Councilman Vree was not
among them at her age maybe that was better. Not long for the world anyway, at least
she got to leave it with dignity, he thought. He watched and became numb. When the
sun set things got chilly. He lay there, occasionally flexing his muscles so that they
didnt cramp up, while the ground sucked the warmth right out of his body. He clenched
his jaw so that the occasional bouts of shivering which went through him didnt cause his
teeth to chatter and give away his position. And still he watched.

Oddly enough not only did he not feel rage, he didnt feel any fear either, just a
nervous excitement which made his limbs feel light and jumpy. He wondered about this.
By all rights he should be damned scared because of the odds they were up against, but
all he felt was a cool determination. Determination and anticipation for the moment
when things would begin.
By the time Wentworth returned the Hell Hounds had turned in for the night.
Theyd left two guys on sentry, whod filled one of the metal trash cans with wood and
set it on fire, then moved it down towards the cages, where they were able to keep an eye
on both the prisoners and the side door of the building which was being used as the main
entry and exit point. As Raxx related a less graphic version of the events during
Wentworths absence the two sentries were sitting down and playing a game of cards on
a table theyd dragged out of the building.
When Raxx was finished speaking Wentworth nodded, Alright. Good news, Ive
come up with a plan. Lets head back down the hill. They retreated back into the gully
where they were out of sight of the compound, Might as well have one last smoke
before we go in.
After they both lit up cigarettes, they sat down leaning against their backpacks.
The other sides of the building are as unoccupied as they seem from here, the Hell
Hounds are concentrated on the east side and the prisoners are all being held in the north.
The front of the building will be where we approach. The front is a series of large
loading bay doors, three of the four are open. The interior is almost completely empty
except for some tool benches and shelves along the walls, and some machines piled up in
the far corner. Along the back wall, just a short distance away from garage door that we
were facing on the hill, is a large steel door. While I was watching they were going in
and out of that door, and there was a light in the room beyond it. I could make out
bedrolls. It appears to be a fairly large room, and it seems to be where theyre sleeping,
while he spoke he gestured in the air to describe the layout, You got that?
Raxx affirmed.
They only have the two guards on this side; theyre not expecting any trouble.
Those guys are probably just out here to keep an eye on the prisoners. We have a major
element of surprise. Having gone over the buildings layout, he went over his plan.
Raxx suggested a couple of things, and after spending a few minutes hashing out the
details he crushed his cigarette beneath his boot. Remember, speed and aggression will
get us through this. Lets get going.
They moved out about a hundred meters from the building, and circled around to
the front. There wasnt as much cover on the south side, but it was dark, the guards
werent paying attention, and they stuck to the natural dips in the ground. After circling a
third of the way around the building they were out of eyesight of the guards or anybody
getting up in the middle of the night to piss. They approached the front gate.
The ATV parked out front was there to keep the cattle milling about the
compound in, it posed no obstacle to them slipping by. They moved quickly, knees bent
and weapon ready, not quite running to the bay door on the far left. When they got there
they hid behind the concrete for a minute, then Wentworth lowered himself to the ground
and peeked around. The interior was as empty as before, and through the smaller garage
door on the east side he could make out the flickering shadows from the trash can fire.

He looked up at Raxx and nodded. He got up, and with the same swift glide the
two of them entered. They stuck to the wall for cover should anyone appear, sliding
around the room in a clockwise manner until they reached the door that went to the Hell
Hounds sleeping quarters. It was heavy steel, and probably locked thought they didnt
bother to check this. Raxx got out the C4 hed prepped and placed it on all four corners
of the door, its hinges and its handle. While he was doing this Wentworth noticed a sign
next to the door, which he pointed out to Raxx. It was a yellowed paper map of the
building, and it showed that the next room was large enough for all of the raiders to sleep
in. Raxx nodded at him.
When he had the charges placed, he looked towards Wentworth. He held the
primer connected to a thirty second fuse in his left hand, and picked up his shotgun with
his right.
Safeties off, said Wentworth gently turning the switch on his rifle, and nodding.
Raxx did the same and activated the primer.
The fuse burned silently behind them as they went up to the garage door.
Wentworth stood by it waiting, his rifle at his shoulder. He felt Raxxs hand on his
shoulder. After a few seconds he felt him squeeze, and simultaneously they stepped
around the corner.
The sudden crack of gunfire shocked them after the long period of silence. The
card players never stood a chance. The one with his back to them died instantly as
Raxxs buckshot took off his right shoulder and lower neck. The one facing them barely
had time to register their presence before the double tap from Wentworths rifle sent one
round into his gut after travelling through his buddys shoulder, and the other hit just
above his right eye, snapping his head back.
The whole time theyd been moving while firing. They came close enough to
confirm that the two were dead, then lined back up by the garage door. Wentworth
switched the fire selector to fully automatic, and Raxx quickly popped in a fresh shell.
They could hear people beginning to stir inside when the C4 went off. They started
moving at the fast glide again, ears ringing. Where the door had been was a cratered
hole, the door had been sent flying into the bedroom. As they stepped up to it Wentworth
felt his heart flutter. Now was the moment. If anybody was prepared with a weapon
trained on the door he was going to bite it and there was nothing he could do. It all came
down to luck at this one moment.
He stepped through the door.
Inside the room was chaos, the C4 had left the raiders punch drunk and bleeding
at the ears. Wentworth went left and Raxx went right. At this point speed was of the
essence. The raiders were awake and outnumbered them; they needed to be killed before
they figured what was going on. Desks and machinery had been pushed to the far wall,
the rest was empty except for the raiders bedding. Wentworth fired burst after burst,
starting from the center and sweeping left, as Raxx did the same on his side. Bodies
caught bullets like catchers mitts, blood sprayed and bullets whizzed, and people
screamed in pain, fear, and panic.

Wentworth was almost done his arc when he heard the bolt of his weapon lock in
the rear position. With his right index finger he pushed the magazine release, letting it
fall to the floor as he kneeled, and with his left hand pulled a second magazine out of his
pocket. As he did so he saw one of the raiders whom he hadnt got to yet, looking
confused but lucid, start raising a pistol in his direction. Too slowly he affixed the fresh
magazine and thumbed the bolt release. He could feel it as the bolt flew forward,
catching the round and sliding it into the chamber, then locked in place. He took up a
point of aim just as the raider fired.
His world spun and he saw stars. He heard the sound of the pistol going off as his
body slumped against the wall, hard. He heard the blast of the shotgun, felt the buckshot
disturb the air as it rushed past his face, and then there was silence.
Wentworth, get up! Wentworth!
The stars faded and the dizziness passed.
What?
The bullet ricocheted off your helmet. Youre not hit.
This made sense to him. He reached up and felt a five centimetre groove along
the left side of his helmet. He stood up, propping himself up on the wall as he did so, still
feeling woozy. Weve got to make sure theyre all dead.
They quickly went through the room kicking the bodies. When one of them
groaned it got a bullet in the head. As they did so they counted.
Twenty, plus the two outside. That your count too?
Yeah, twenty-two total.
Good. Well quickly take the rest of the building, using the same tactics as
before.
But what about the darkness? said Raxx, We wont be able to see shit if theres
anybody hiding.
Wentworth nodded. Youre right, he thought for a moment, Fuck it then.
They should all be here. But lets try to clear out as quickly as possible, just in case, he
stumbled, and gave his head a shake, Actually, you mind taking charge of things? Im a
little dizzy, and besides you know these people.
The trip back to Blackstock was more difficult than their journey to the holding
facility during the afternoon. With Councilman Vree dead from the initial attack there
was nobody else who had the presence of mind or the sense to be able to rally the people.
Raxx did his best, but in some ways he was still an outsider to them. Not that you could
blame them for their disorderliness after what theyd been through. Even with the ATVs
to move the wounded, sick, and exhausted it wasnt until dawn that everybody had
arrived back in town.
The Councilman had been one of the lucky ones.
The cleanup took less time than anybody expected, even with half the town too
injured or distraught to participate. Within a week all of the bodies had been buried and
the rubble had been cleared from the streets.
It was around this time that people started getting sick.
Radiation poisoning. Once your DNA gets destroyed by subatomic particles
theres not much that can be done, even with the best facilities and medical staff. It was
completely beyond the skills of the local midwife.

One by one, the residents started losing their hair, their bones became increasingly
brittle, and diarrhoea became so serious that not just dehydration, but malnutrition
became a worry.
Raxx and Wentworth kept waiting to develop the symptoms themselves.
The two of them, along with Vince whose ankle had healed by this time, did what
they could to keep everybody fed, and in good care. For a week the three of them hardly
slept.
Then the first one died, an old man. The second to die was a young child. More
joined them.
Some opted to take the quick route.
Raxx sat by Connys bed as she breathed her last breaths. Shed been one of the
longest survivors. He held her hand and reflected on the fact that hed never really
known her. The crush hed had, the flirtatious relationship, was nothing. He didnt know
who she was. With her family dead, nobody did. Hed never be able to remember her
to him she was just a cute girl, not a person. However much he wanted it to be otherwise
the chance for that was gone.
He buried her himself, refusing aid from Wentworth or Vince. He stood there a
long time afterwards, eyes dry, a confused and troubled expression on his face. He
shivered from a cold more imagined than felt, and left to a troubled sleep.
The Hell Hounds have been wiped from history and no one shall know how they
suffered during their last minutes of life. Their origins remain a mystery. Perhaps they
just grew out of the wasteland itself, radioactive demons of destruction, remnants of our
ancestors who first brought this destruction down up on themselves, now shades to bring
it upon their children. But wherever they came from, their name has died with them, for
we, the last witnesses of their time on earth, will never speak of them again. But three
weeks after the night they breathed their final breaths, the community they had attacked
was nothing but an empty shell. Buildings without people, slowly being reclaimed and
savaged by nature like so many other places in this fucking world. Only the stones would
remember the people of Blackstock. And me, Raxx and Vince. This is another thing I
carry with me. Another reason I have to go on.
History must be remembered if it will ever be understood.
Theres nothing East of here for a long way, slurred Wentworth. He was
slumped at the bar, while Raxx stood behind it serving shots of whiskey.
You guys are welcome to join me, offered Vince, sitting next to Wentworth,
Im heading back west. Theres a Mennonite community near here.
Tomorrow morning then. Said Raxx, Well leave this dustbowl. But right
now I need to get drunk.

This work is fictional