There wasn't as many as I'd hoped. The three healers only dubbed around thirty five people good enough to join us. I was cutting hair for at least two hours, a good sized pile of dirty hair accumulated on the floor around me. Each new soldier had this truimphant glow to their eyes, as if they had won the game that is life. They have lived so long in the sea of desperation and survival, and now they have something close to a family. I wish I could bring myself to tell them that war was not as glorious as the original war boys made it out to be. They didn't know that the only reason war boys relished in bloodshed was because they wanted to ride into Valhalla. All the new soldiers could see was access to food, water, and medicine.
I gathered all of the hair into a bag of cloth and walked it to the supply closet. This was only a little corner that we threw things we didn't want in. There were loads of cargo pants awaiting new owners, screws, gloves, boots, and goggles. It always amazed me how much self control the boys had in order not to swipe all of these waiting treasures. We all knew that sometimes you just took what you needed and passed on the rest. What was a pair of pants that was too small? Or a baby doll head smeared with dirt? No one knew, unless you yourself needed that item. The supply closet seemed to be a symbol of our shriveled up humanity, as it was never abused.
I tossed the sack into the pile, turning on my heel and trudging off to the Black Thumb's cave. The tunnels were bursting with noise and excited whispers. As I turned the corner, I was met with a crowd of white skinned figures, painted with black grease and shaved heads. Most of them were already sporting dark cargo pants peppered with tools. What a fine group of war boys.
I clapped my hands together, silencing them at once.
"Time to get ya some mentors!" I announced.
I saw a few grudge ridden faces flash across the group, but they were gone as if they never existed. I suppose a to-be war boy would not stand to be taught like a common pup. The fact that their egos were damaged meant nothing to me, not while Capable was still in Gastown's clutches. These people didn't know a lick about cars or war, and I wasn't going to send them out without proper training.
By now all of the war boys able to stand were gathered here as well. They parted from the crowd and joined me, gazing at the new recruits with mixed emotions. I could see resentment sparking in some of their eyes. I always heard whispers, grumblings about the way things were these days. I didn't expect every war boy to accept Furiosa, accept Immortan Joe's death. She had traitored him, and as a result traitored everyone who followed him. But we, a band of rejects, brought Immortan and his army to their knees. No remaining war boy dared to question the new order.
"Alright, um, oh! You, yeah-" I pointed to one of the recruits, "You, with the scarf." The man stepped forward, eyebrows raised, "You're with Bellow." I gestured to a bulky war boy with a necklace of teeth.
"Alright, next..."
~~
One. There was only one left. He was a tall man of around 20, with skin that was so dark it seemed to seep through the bone-white clay covering him. He was thin, as I could see his ribs surfacing through his flesh.
"You're with me."
I took a few steps towards the man, clapping him on the shoulder, "I'm Feral, Imperator Feral." I greeted him.
He gave me a wary blink, "Blaze." He replied.
The other mentors have already begun to train with their apprentices. Pups were even helping them with some things, like hooking pipes to gaskets or showing them how to properly hold a blow torch. Our conversation was between the two of us.
"You a blackthumb, boy?" I asked, nodding towards the men and women bent over open vehicle hoods.
He shrugged, "Hardly see cars up close."
I bobbed my head, "Ya seem more suited for lancing anyway." I laughed, waving to tell him to follow me. I led him to my corner, where nothing but my table and variois car parts. Leaning against the wall were a bundle of thundersticks. I picked one up, pointing with a single finger at the explosive tip,
"See this?" I said, "This 'ere is a thunderstick." I picked it up like a spear and pretended to throw it, "All ya gotta do is aim and stab 'em. Then...Kaboom!" I billowed out my free hand's fingers, mimicking an explosion.
He flashed me a yellow-toothed smile, taking the thunderstick from me as I handed it to him. He tried the same technique as me, letting the stick slump until it was horizontal and tested throwing it. The weapon slid from his fingers a little, and he frantically scrambled to catch it.
A laugh rose up from my chest, and I plucked the explosive from his arms, "Slippery bastards, ain't they?"
I carefully placed the thunderstick back in its place, then faced Blaze again, "So, can ya drive either?" I questioned.
He pursed his plump lips, then shook his head slowly.
I sighed through the breath of my nose, "Figured. Alright, let's go for a practice ride." I concluded, walking away and out towards the garage. Heavy footsteps told me that Blaze was not far behind me.
My mind's inner workings faught with the strength of ten war rigs to keep my thoughts away from Hummer. That was, after all, the last time I had an apprentice. I felt a twisting sickness at the bottom of my gut, because I felt like I was replacing him. How long had it been since he died? Four days? It seemed like years. Was Hummer watching me from Valhalla, with his young face contorted with hurt? No, no! I can't think about this. I was doing this because I had to. I had to save Capable.
When we emerged from the caves, I went straight to the rig Jr., where my wheel waited. I never took it back to the alter, as there has been so much on my mind lately. I reached in through the open window and yanked it from its spot. I was not about to let Blaze wreck my ride, no matter how sturdy I belived her to be.
I scanned over the assortment of cars, wondering which one I should take. Nux's vehicle was most likely out of the question, as last time I used his car Hummer crashed it...Damn! I shook my head furiously, clearing my mind.
"There, that one'll do." I said a little too loudly, pointing to Bott's old car. It was so rusted and covered wit decor and modifications that I wasn't really sure what kind of vehicle it was. Images of Botts' dead body curled in the sand flashed behind my eyes, but I forced them down. I suppose he wasn't going to need it anymore.
Once we made it to the vacant ride, I placed my wheel in the empty slot in the driver's seat. Then I scurried to the other side and slipped inside. Blaze was hesitant at first, but climbed into his seat nevertheless. He placed his large hands on the wheel, squeezing the rim gingerly and then sliding his palms around it.
"Big petal's the brake, small one's the gas. Turn the key to start 'er up." I said shortly, drumming my fingers on the window ledge impatiently.
He twisted the key, and Botts' car roared to life. Blaze jumped, black rimmed eyes wide.
I patted the shift stick, "Move this to shift up a gear, or go in reverse." I told him, "But you gotta press your foot to the clutch before ya shift up, see?"
He nodded once, and I took this as my cue to lean back and let him figure out the rest. Here we go again...
-----------------------------
A/N: Again, I'm sorry about the short chapter...I promise the next one will be long!! :) happy reading
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The Power Hungry (Mad Max: Fury Road Fanfiction)
Fanfiction| Part 2 of The War Girl | It's a dog eat dog world, some would say. As soon as one lets their guard down for more than a moment, snap! Their throat has been ripped out. We thought we escaped fury road unscathed, but we could not have been more wro...
