Gallimaufry

Writing Prompt: Desert Dogs

Prompt: Write a "Mad Max : Fury Road" inspired story based in Australia. 

Grit was everywhere. It didn't matter how much a person brushed it off, the stuff dug into every crevice and cranny within your body. The day had just begun, sun rising harshly above the hard packed stretch of dead earth that stretched for miles in every directions, when I arrived back at the compound. 

You travelled in the night, when the world was cold, or you found yourself suffering from the heat sickness before you got ten feet out of the cool safety of the commander's compound. I had almost stopped at a way station this time, having ranged further out than normal to find the typical supplies that we needed to keep this small vestige of humanity alive. 

My teeth ground against the microscopic grains of earth that had found their way into my mouth, despite the tattered bandana I kept over my face. My boots echoed along the creaking, salvage boards of my ramshackle sanctuary as I trudged tiredly through the door and kicked it behind me. I shrugged out of my shoulder rig, dropping the two heavy guns onto the box that served as a table while I glanced over my tiny room.  Dark shadows created by the draperies over the one window I had, streams of broken light streaming through different cracks of the walls and roof, as well as the thread bare patches of the blanket I used as drapes. 

I noticed the change in the air when I stepped in the door but I still didn't acknowledge the form hiding in the far corner. Nor did I call out whomever was now standing behind me, having been waiting behind my door when I had opened it. I kicked off my creaking boots, which stuck to my feet and pants with the dampness of my sweat, flinging them in random directions as I used my other foot to lever them off.  The form in the corner took in a sharp breath as the first boot hit the wall with a loud bang, but I turned the other way before the second boot made a similar sound, walking to my small cold chest. 

Opening the cracked plastic lid, I frowned at the sight of melted ice, sighing and merely dipping my hand into the water and taking a sip of that. It tasted like the machine the compound used to make the stuff, but water was water. Even as someone who had access to nearly as much as I could want, I didn't squander it. 

First mouthful, I swished in my mouth to clean out the grit, spitting it across the room to land at the feet of my shadow from the door, "care to tell me why you three are in my place?" 

There was a time when my voice wasn't permanent scowl, a time when I may have even sounded nice to people. But that had long past, the world had descended into chaos and I was merely a slave to my surroundings. 

"How'd you know?" The third form crawled out from under my bed, the three scrawny forms stepping more into the open in unison. 

I glanced them over, crouching where I was, and closed the container in front of me. Two of them were new arrivals. Pretty young girls. Stupid twits. They should have dealt with that beauty like the strong ones do. I had drawn a hot knife down my face twice, to ensure that I wouldn't be the first picked up for the fate these girls were dealing with. 

The third one, I knew. She had been here a little longer. And she still fought. She was a fighter, I could see it in her eyes as much I as I could see it in the bruises that covered her face, neck and arms. Probably other places too, but they were all wearing a semblance of clothing, long draping dresses that the rest of the commander's chosen had to wear. 

She had been the one in the corner, and she stepped closer to me, head tilting to the side curious. Her expression was firm, determined. I knew I wasn't going to like what she was about to say. 

"I know you run people to freedom. I have proof." 

Well, fuck. I blinked at her, smirking, "You don't have proof of anything, cause I don't do that." 

Someone had snitched. My last run was months ago, she had not been here very long then, there was no way she would have even had the chance to know who I was to observe me on my own. My brain started running through the ever dwindling list of  people who knew about the real reason I agreed to be a ranger, warrior, for the commander. 

One of the pretty ones looked ready to cry. She was the one who had crawled under the bed, the smaller one. There was anger behind those tears though, frustration. And her tiny fists balled together as she bared her teeth at me. 

"I would rather die than let that... thing... touch me." 

Now, granted, the commander wasn't the most attractive male specimen out there in the world. He was older, well fed and balding. His teeth were awful and he had those creepy little bug eyes that bulged when he got worked up. I'm pretty sure I'd seen him drool in fury before. Who am I kidding, he could be the most attractive man in the compound and no self respecting woman would want the fate that awaited these girls. 

But they could also be trying to bargain for their freedom in another way. He could have promised, and lied, that he would give them freedom if they helped him find the person who was rescuing people from his 'protection'. Hell, some girls would do it for a couple extra rations of water and food. 

"Well. The commander has decided that was your fate." I shrug and stand, rubbing my sand covered skin with my hands, "you're lucky I don't turn you in for even suggesting anything." 

I nodded towards the door, but merely raised a brow when girl I knew pulled an old, ancient six shooter from her robes, pointing it at me with a shaking hand. She was holding the thing wrong, her grip was tight and the barrel was wavering around like she was trying to shoot a fly. But I saw the intent in her eyes, she would shoot until the gun ran out or I was down. 

I really didn't want holes in my walls, things or self. So I stilled, levelling my glare at her, "really?" 

"Mack told me that you would help us out." 

Mack had been on the last shipment. Young kid who had been born here after his mom was taken in. He had been here when I arrived, it had been his dumb idea to start the whole rescues. He used to find the people for it. Had a second sense for trusting people. Things had gotten a little iffy here for him, and I had forced him to stay gone on the last run.  Was it possible he planned these things that far in advance? That he recruited people ahead of schedule? How could he know that they would be patient?

"Mack died months ago." I shook my head and glanced between the three of them. 

"He wanted me to remind you that you still need to show him how to get to the Red Rock." She pressed, her arm shaking now with the weight of the gun. 

"That's in Nevada. We're in Australia."  I muttered, shaking my head slowly. I was dead. I knew it. I hated everyone. I trusted no one. I had been lucky to find Mack and been planning on wandering out on my own for weeks now. When you trust no one, it is just as dangerous as trusting everyone. You have no ability to tell if a person was on your side or not. 

"There's boats on the coast." I could hear the relief in her voice, see the tears that threatened to spill. I could taste her hope. That dangerous thing that led people to their deaths. 

What the hell, these three girls were warriors. I could see it in their eyes. They wouldn't have survived this long if they weren't. 

"Didn't he tell you that gun didn't actually work." I drew my own gun from its holster on my back, hearing the click of the gun in front of me. The chamber of rounds fell out of it and clattered on the floor with the force of the misfire, followed by the front half of the broken weapon. I smirked at her as she pointed the ivory handle at me, her eyes widening in shock.

The chamber rolled towards me, and I stopped it by placing my foot on it, glancing back and forth to the three of them, "how much time do we have?" 

They had been here for a while, I knew that much. We had days, at most. 

"Tomorrow?" It was the girl who had been quiet until now who spoke, her voice cracking. "The day after, our training is supposedly done." 

Well, fuck.