GunBarrel Gauntlet: The Last Bronze II

17. The Scabeaters.

The Junkyard fortress of the Scabeaters was revealed in the glowing coal of dawn, high walls of compacted car bodies rising out of the Never-Never. Hypnotic windmill blades spun at the apex of gaunt frames over the complex, tendrils of smoke escaping from chimney pipes behind the barrier heights.

Keeping Audrey at a respectable distance from the compound, Carrion engaged the handbrake, never taking her focus away from the scrap metal defences as she contemplated the nature of those whom might dwell within.

Resting beside the truck, Tiny and Shamrock the Irishman stared at the Junkyards in awe, as did the Nomad, killing the switch on his bike before raising the visor of his helmet to take in the accomplishment of this monument to security in a savage world.

Leaving the side of the truck, Scratch unwrapped the cord of a bullroarer, rotating it over his head to begin sounding a haunting drone, the pitch dipping in and out with his effort to signal attention.

A wicket gate opened out from the larger entrance, allowing a single guard to pedal toward them on a 'tall bike' of three vertical frames, wobbling slightly with the exaggerated height as it progressed closer. Scratch called up toward the bearded man and pointed back toward the truck as it circled around his stance for some time, breaking away soon after to inspect Audrey and the crew from Sanctuary.

At first the Tall Rider did not speak, wheeling along Carrion's side of the vehicle as they made brief eye contact, returning along the passenger side to peak in through the window and give a non committal nod to Weary and Liu as he passed. Between the patches of wild hair over his face there were tight burn scars stretched over his cheekbones.

Under the bike seat, a bald magpie in a bird cage was also watching them down the dagger length of its beak, hopping within the confined space so as to continue facing them as the rider circled outside their windows.

"What's in the trailer?" Tall Rider finally asked, tracing a figure eight at Carrion's side.

"No surprises if that's what's troubling you, just a reserve tank and an engine. The rest is hollow, see for yourself if you don't believe us." The trucker spoke through the horizontal slats crossing her window.

"Alright, Scratch tells me that you ain't Dog Soldiers, and you don't look like Skin Pirates neither. You're welcome to enter the Junkyards, but only if you agree to the following; once your on the other side of the wall I want you all to exit this truck, nice and slowly, leave any weapons on the ground, then step back with your hands behind your 'eads until we're satisfied. Agree?"

She turned to read the silent expressions of Weary and Liu, then lifted the handset to confer with those waiting in the Corolla.

"Copy that Mama. Whatever he says." The speaker crackled.

"We all agree." Carrion dipped her head in acknowledgement.

Tracing his way back toward the wicket gate, Tall Rider returned inside the compound as Scratch moved in the opposite direction to climb back up the exterior of the truck cabin. The harsh protest of grinding gears began to twist in the distance, raising the portcullis of car bonnets aloft into a guiderail frame above the defensive barrier, beckoning them to enter.

Moving underneath the shadow of the lintel support ahead of the convoy, the Nomad explored the ramparts and scaffolding of the watchtower with a sweep of his head, locking eyes with the inhabitants of the Junkyards. Like the scarecrows that had been erected along their borders, the residents appeared to be garbed in all manner of patchwork clothing, the remnants of the civilized world before The Lawless Times, torn apart and stitched back together.

Kicking his leather leg over the saddle to dismount, he obeyed Tall Rider's request and removed anything that might offend the anxious audience and their crossbows narrowed at his heart, dropping his helmet and the jacket which holstered his colt handgun.

The red and white jacket patch of the Holden Lion stirred some lips as it lay upon the earth, whispering in confirmation to one another along the battlements, mouthing that title bestowed upon him by the barbarians of the wastelands.

With Audrey and the escort Corolla also brought within the confines of the walls, a committee of Scabeaters examined the piles of arms left on the ground after Carrion's crew disembarked, motioning with loaded crossbows to make them turn slowly, while those with free hands patted along the limbs of the outsiders to be sure nothing had been concealed.

"Who are you lot?" A woman with a missing nose asked, the skin of her face sagging at the jowls with age.

"We're from Sanctuary, from the city." Liu gave her bravest answer to the maimed one.

"In need of repairs, ran into some trouble with a gang from Dogtown. We're strangers out here, unfamiliar with these lands. Any help you can offer us, we'll trade for as best we can and continue on our way." Lowering her arms after the frisk, Carrion shifted her right eye from the woman to the curious figures in the background.

"The city? Huh, never believed there'd be any of you still breathin'." Said the noseless woman.

"What about Blue Tattoo?" Another cried out. "Is it true? He's dead?"

"He's dead alright! Saw it me self, crushed as a can inside his own chariot. Just ask the puppet." Socky confirmed as the puppet sagely nodded on his left hand.

"You can't trust the ex-Road Jockey! He's a Skin!" A bitter voice accused.

In response to the outcry, Weary and Tiny focused on the afro haired wastelander beside them with a renewed suspicion.

"Wait a moment! Easy now! Socky 'ere hasn't betrayed us yet! And he and Scratch brought us here 'cause we all share a comm'n problem; Zeus!"

Shamrock's words settled the rising discontent against their travelling companion.

"Zeus the Lightning!" A Scabeater hissed.

"Why is he a concern of yours, stranger? The woman said you came from somewhere else, a city." Hobbling closer with a crutch under one arm, an elder with a conical hat fashioned from flattened tin cans emerged from the onlookers.

"We're looking for some friends of ours, at the end of the Trans-Con, the 'Gauntlet'. We've been told that Zeus controls the entire length of the highway, and he'll strip us for spare parts if we dare travel on it. If we don't reach our destination in the next few days, the settlement we come from will die." Carrion informed him.

"Die? How so?"

"From lack of water, our supply has gone dry."

"El Dorado..." Tin Lizard, the man with the hat pronounced slowly.

"Dog Soldiers! Heading this way!" A sentry from the watchtower cried.

Tin Lizard lost his train of thought, as did the rest of the crowd as soon as the warning came overhead.

"They've followed your tracks straight to us!" He accused Carrion. "We'll soon find out the truth of what you lot are really up to!"