GunBarrel Gauntlet: The Last Bronze II

13. War Dance.

13. War Dance.

Hurtling across the poisoned earth, the Dog Soldiers had spread themselves into a dragnet formation to swallow up anything that should fall into their path. Enclosed in the roll cage of the Scorpion gunner trike, Blue Tattoo led the vanguard position. At his left hand rode a hotrod Volkswagen with multiple muffler pipes that fanned out from its undercarriage like folding wings. To the right, a supercharged Chrysler Valiant with a front end fashioned into carnivore teeth.

The heaviest vehicles grouped themselves around the centre three; Chevy pickups, road hogs, a Ford Falcon with bat fins, leaving the flanks occupied by all manner of dirt bikes that tore through the dust as they inched closer to their prey.

Intruding toward the wake of the lone stunt cycle ahead, the pack could sense that their target was struggling, a wounded animal on the brink of exhaustion, running with uneven speed as its engine choked on the last vapours of fuel.

From the glare of the desert a black machine suddenly dashed toward the failing bike, braking in a drift of dust before it to exchange riders.

Blue Tattoo grimaced his yellow teeth with unsated violence as he observed the new arrival, signalling to the lieutenants on either side of the Scorpion to quicken their pace and slaughter them. Peeling away with a grunt of energy, Lovebug and Grillfang roared with energy to reach their quarry.

* * *

Raising the visor on his helmet as he let the stunt bike fall back into the dirt, the Nomad's blue eyes studied the Irishman sitting on his Enforcer, Liu nervously waiting nearby as the high pitched scream of approaching engines gathered volume.

"A believe this is yours, Bronze..." The Irishman called out over the idling horsepower.

"Why'd you come back for us?" The Nomad queried.

"Eh... Couldn't stand the thought of you going under the wheels like Brucey. That, and the girl; 'er mates got some haitch-two, figure they'd trust me if we could bring 'er back."

Casting his gaze further to the horizon, the outline of the Kenworth truck was looming closer.

"Water? Now I believe you. We got a problem" –he kicked the other bike where it lay flat – "Outta gas."

"You can carry us on that one, right!?" Liu pointed to the Enforcer.

"Too heavy with three of us." The Nomad shook his head. "They'll get us before we reach the truck."

"So what do ya propose, Bronzey?" Irish spoke as he dismounted the black bike.

Turning his head from the two marauders in the north to the truck approaching from the south, the Nomad bit his bottom lip in thought.

"Wait here."

"What?!" Liu cried out in panic.

Straddling the Enforcer, the man with the Lion jacket closed his visor, launching away at speed toward the leading wake of the Dog Soldiers.

"The bastard's gone and left us!" She wailed, stepping toward Irish as though he was the only one left between her life and the encroaching gang.

Riding head-on toward the Lovebug and Grillfang, the Lion tested their resolve as he kept Irish and Liu hidden from sight behind his profile. Behind the wheel of the VW, Tick-Tock flexed his fingers in excitement at the black bike playing chicken, leaning back in the seat to brace for impact, his wristwatches ticking at different intervals all along his forearm.

Seconds from annihilation, the Lion eased back on the throttle, allowing the nose of the two cars to pull toward him as they both assumed the other would panic. Their greed for manslaughter was their undoing; revving the bike suddenly with a hard turn of the wrist, the front wheel lifted like a stallion as it thrust through the gap between their panels, both vehicles rebounding off one another as they fought to regain control, bounced wide of their collision course.

Holding on to one another as waves of churned dust stung their bodies, Liu and the Irishman opened their eyes after the expected collision with an ecstatic realization that the two cars had somehow become separated to completely avoid them, leaving them to shiver with adrenaline between the snarling engines.

Barking out in frustration, Tick-Tock pulled at the wheel hand-over-hand to loop back around, searching through his windows for any sign of the Enforcer. Bullet Tooth, the occupant of the Valiant, likewise threw his back wheels around to re-align with the two figures that had so far eluded him. That's when he noticed the armoured mass of the Kenworth truck trying to intercept the stranded pedestrians. Wresting the gear shaft as his foot flattened the pedal, his cleft lip spread into a maniacal smile, racing against the truck to reach Irish and Liu so he could break them across the bonnet of Grillfang.

"Run!" Irish screamed, taking Liu by her thin arm to move her out of harm's way, feet slipping over the fine dirt as his lungs burnt in hyperventilation to reach the oncoming truck.

Inside the cabin, Carrion's good eye narrowed in determination as her free hand went for the third engine switch atop the gear selector. Then a red light began flashing on the console; the third engine was dead.

"Aargh!" Vocalizing her exasperation, she returned her hand to the wheel as the blur of the Valiant rocketed into her peripheral.

Audrey shook violently as it scraped with the weight of the Valiant, forcing it aside just in time as the running pair dived forward to use the length of the truck as a shield. The thick smoke of burning oil bellowed out of Grillfang's bonnet, the chassis bent out of shape as it skipped over the barrens in a scrapheap wreck.

Braking hard, the Kenworth ground to a halt metres ahead of the collision. Raising his head out of the dust, the Irishman could to see Weary's face staring back at them from the passenger mirrors. Another vehicle flew past them, the Corolla escort going wide after the truck had jarred to a halt.

"Love birds! Climb aboard, before I change my mind!" The bald trucker's voice commanded.

Scrambling back onto their feet, the two figures darted across to the safety of the carriage, using the wheel guard as a step-up to reach the tanker. As soon as they were aboard the rig began to move, heading into the storm of raiders charging across the field. Climbing along the carriage as the wind rippled their garments, Liu was ushered through the opening passenger door, leaving the Irishman to hang onto the exterior as he listened at the window, ogling the interior harem of pinup nudes plastered around the cabin until Carrion spoke:

"Irish! Time to prove yourself, I need more power" – she shouted over the rushing noise- "There's a third engine in the rear of the carriage... access it through the roof hatch... fix it so we can get outta this hell!"

Saluting with two fingers in response, he clambered back toward the rear and up the vertical handholds to crawl along the top surface, the panorama of the battlefield stretching for miles beyond the length of the truck.

Inside the cabin, Carrion the Long-Hauler took out her cigar stub, inhaling the musty aroma prior to gripping it out the side of her mouth for luck. She could remember a time before the Big One, when she hauled freight on the road trains that journeyed the lawless Trans-Con.

Then one night the armalite road gangs had blinded her with a spotlight. Her lover had been sleeping with her head resting on Carrion's lap, woken by the terror of the grinding brakes and gunfire breaking the glass. By the time the MFP had intercepted the gang it was too late, her life had bled away, just like the woman she had dragged out of the cabin; her partner, cold and unresponsive. In her daze Carrion had been unaware that they had shot out her left eye.

The memory made her belly burn. If they wanted a fight, this time she'd bring it them. No mercy.