12. Friend or Foe?
As turbulent skies began to glow in the predawn haze, the Nomad and his rescued passenger were skimming over the landscape on the stunt bike he had used to launched over the cage walls to escape Dogtown. Shielding her face from the high speed draft against the Nomad's jacket, Liu held onto his waist with both arms and peered back toward the direction they had come from. Kicked into the wind by the spin of many tyres, a squadron of machines in the distance was chasing them in swift pursuit.
Releasing a free hand to tap the Nomad's shoulder in warning of the encroaching danger, Liu pointed back and tried to raise her voice over the whipping wind. The sight of the Dog Soldiers was enough for the Helmet covered rider to understand their predicament, swivelling his head back into the rushing draft to continue steering the light frame cycle over the flat barrens revealed to the light of a rising sun.
In the seconds he had spent looking back over his shoulder, it was obvious to the Nomad that one of the dust trails was rapidly gaining on them ahead of the pack. In his many years fighting off the barbarians of the wastelands he had never seen a machine move so quickly, and the fear was beginning to burn in the pit of his stomach. Today might be the day he was finally caught, and there would be no second chances... no mercy...
* * *
Holding onto the handle-grips with teeth-biting effort, the Irishman fought to control the Enforcer Special as it bucked and dragged both himself and Socky across the empty wilderness. With only a pair of sunglasses and Chocky the puppet tied over his lower visage as a mask against the rushing air, he had been able to stay ahead of the swarm of Dog Soldiers that had been building up, witnessing the same dust storm of their wake the nomad had seen whenever he dared to check the rear view mirrors atop the handlebars.
Socky had guided him southward by tugging on his ears whenever he drifted off course, but now with the coming aura of dawn he could see other vehicles moving ahead of them, a thin trail from a motorcycle and something else, a large mass that was churning up the dirt as though it was leaning heavy on its right side.
"Caught between the Devil and a dirt brown Sea" He mused silently.
* * *
"How many?" Carrion asked as she drove the rig toward the rising ochre stain drifting on the north horizon
Leaning out the passenger window, Weary tried to count the wall of vehicles as he panned the rifle scope lens, the image bouncing with the rhythm of the truck.
"More than ten... alotta bikes. They ain't friendly, that's for sure."
The crosshairs came to focus on a modified trike with a lattice canopy over the driver, a second occupant standing behind it with a swivel mounted harpoon that looked like a scorpion's tail. From its vanguard position he guessed it to be the leader of the marauders. Shifting his attention onto the dust trails between themselves and the approaching armada, he studied the two motorcycles and deduced that they were fleeing from the Scorpion and its savage crew.
"Wait a moment... it's Liu! She's heading our way with a biker. They're in trouble, they're not fast enough... hang on! Looks like Socky, he's riding with someone else on a police bike, tryin' to catch up with them."
"To hurt them?" Carrion asked.
"Nah... both bikes are tryin' to get away from the raiders. They're gunna need our help."
"Help? They're more trouble than they're worth..." Shifting down gears, the truck decelerated, much like her tone of voice. "Get ready to shoot them, Liu and the mad one might have been taken as hostages; they're only bringin' them back to make a bargain."
Audrey rolled to a standstill, engine idling in apprehension as Tiny parked the escort car alongside them. From the console of the truck his voice asked:
"Mama, what's goin' on?"
"Trouble. Get ready to break away if the situation turns ugly." Carrion replied through the handset.
Nervous seconds passed as they sat and watched the approaching storm of vehicles spreading under the morning sun, the rumble of their many engines growing like a plague of insects.
* * *
As soon as the Enforcer had met their speed and was travelling beside them, Liu and the Nomad recognized the rider and passenger of the parallel bike as allies. It had been five years since their last meeting, but the Irishman hadn't aged a day in comparison to the Nomad's memories of those few fleeting days they had been forced to work together during the Lawless Times, dismantling a gang led by 'King Krome' to save a convoy of civilians from a forgotten city.
The Irishman was still wearing the shades of his dead mate, Bad Bruce; the road warrior that had sacrificed his machine and his life to help them all escape in those days long past.
Unsure of how much fuel was left in the stunt cycle, due to the missing gauges that had been stripped to decrease its weight, the Nomad would not dare to stop his current maximum speed lest he should burn the tank dry. Instead, he dipped his helmet in recognition and motioned for the riders on his Enforcer to overtake them and reach the safety of the truck waiting in the distance.
Reading the body language of his old friend from the past, the Irishman nodded once and accelerated around their position, taking a final glimpse of the one he called "The Bronze" in the rearview mirror as he whispered a prayer for them.
Leaving the Nomad and the girl behind as they continued to the south, it was not long before the sight of a truck shielded with improvised armour panels stood out against the bleak earth, a small sedan with a scorched bonnet parked beside it.
So the mad one had spoken the truth after all, the Irishman realized with thirsty excitement; there was a truck with haitch-two-oh, it wasn't a mirage.
Skidding to a halt before the rig, he raised his hands as the end of a rifle came out the window, aimed in his direction. Socky likewise waved his arms, speaking frenetically to whomever was waiting inside the truck's canopy.
"Easy now! I'm no Dog Soldier, Socky 'ere"- Irish motioned to the passenger at his back - "tells me you're in need of a Grease-Easy, that be me. I could see your rig limpin' from miles back."
"We only needed one mechanic... one Grease-Easy; why is there a small army following after you?" A woman's rough voice called out to them.
"They ain't followun me, sweetheart, they want me bloody hide! Yours too if we don't get movin' on outta here, real soon like."
"What about the other bike? The one with the girl on it?" A male voice asked from the truck's passenger window where the rifle was positioned at them.
"She a friend a' yours? They caught 'er in Dogtown and were about to feed her to tha mutts until me mate Bronze showed up. He escaped, jus' like we did. Listen, we ain't got much time to bargain."
"It's true!" Socky confirmed as he slipped the puppet back onto his left hand. "You can trust 'em, all they askin' for is a little haitch-two."
Inside the cabin, Carrion and Weary quickly debated the risks of taking the Irishman on board.
"He's right, we can't sit here any longer if we wanna try and outrun these ... 'Dog Soldiers'." Weary sighed.
"I dunno. What if it's a trap and they've come here to stab us in the back?" Carrion scowled.
"It doesn't look that way, from what I seen in the scope. And besides, you said earlier that Socky would know the wastelands, being a local. Well, we'd get more sense out of this other man; he hasn't been out baking in the sun for as long as Socky has."
"Dammit!" – Carrion picked up the handset to speak with Tiny – "You there Tiny? We're in trouble if you hadn't noticed. I want you to get out slowly and pat them down while we cover you. Remove anything they might use as a weapon."
"Ten-four, Mama." Tiny replied.
Exiting the Corolla cautiously, the giant they called 'Tiny' asked the pair to raise their arms as he approached with a cricket bat for a club. The pair complied, the puppet's face squeezing together at the mouth as though it had tasted something sour about their suspicious treatment.
Patting his hands quickly over their limbs and torso, Tiny removed all manner of bolts and spanners from the Irishman's inside pockets, including the screwdriver he had armed himself with to escape Dogtown.
"Nothin' but a few mechanic tools!" He called back to the truck.
"Hey now! That's me livelihood yur droppin' big man, I'm no use to yas without 'em."
"Alright, let him keep the tools." Carrion yelled from the cabin window. "The two of you! Join Tiny in the Corolla until we get through these Dog Soldiers."
"Oh no a won't, I'll be ridin' the bike... gotta return it to an ol' friend." The Irishman winked before crouching to recover the objects that had been loosened from his pockets.