I awake, lifting myself from heavy dreams of radscorpions and paper bunnies, the old man's words echoing in my head.
"The bugs love us,"
I shake my head. Archie had obviously lost a marble or two in the wasteland.
I stand up and check Tee on the upper bunk. She's still sleeping soundly, dreaming a child's dreams, maybe of green places, fresh food and water.
I go to to the door and try the handle. It's not locked. I emerge into the common room and the old man is there cleaning his rifle.
"Want to go hunting?"
"I thought you were going to kick us out in the morning."
"I changed my mind. You and I should spend some time together, son. You've got a lot to learn if you want to survive out there."
I roll my eyes and take a seat at the breakfast table, where there's already a bowl of food set out.
"Hope you like mut-fruit surprise."
I did like it, surprisingly. I felt the pleasant burning in my veins again.
"You put scorpid poison in everything?"
"Just about. Go into the back room and get a rifle and some wasteland clothing."
I walk past him and enter the storage room. On one rack is twenty rifles of all different kinds. Across from it are boxes and boxes of ammunition. I had never seen so many guns, unclaimed, in great shape. There were boxes of grenades, land mines, and gun parts everywhere. A single plasma grenade rests on it's side on the top shelf, and I pocket it. Archie leans in the doorway,
"Whoever set this place up was a gun nut. I've even got a rocket launcher in the back but don't bother, the thing weighs a ton."
I run my hand over the guns as I walk down the narrow aisle and I get a feeling from the goddess and stop. My hand rests on a beautiful gun, with gold inlay and mahogany stock. I lift it from the rack and examine it.
"Minty's .22. Good choice, but the penetration's not great. You won't kill a deathclaw with that gun." Archie smiles as he watches me, his great blue eyes crinkling at the edges.
"If I can't kill it with this it's big enough to stay away from. Is there someone else here?"
"No, no, it says Minty right on the stock," I check the gun. Carved carefully into the wood is a single word "Minty," in a child's scrawl. I run my fingers over the inscription and I know long ago someone had loved this weapon.
"You know, your kiddo is about the age to learn to handle a gun."
"Don't wake her up," I say as I turn to him, "She's dreaming of good things," and I test the weight of the rifle in my hands.
"Have you ever seen a deathclaw?" I visualized what I had heard about. Black, and ten feet tall, claws like a great bear, jaws that could crush iron, lizard skin, and covered in sharp spines.
"Oh, a few times. They're not around now so don't worry yourself. They migrate. They're not too hard to kill, as long as your not dropping all your shit, pissing yourself, and running in the opposite direction."
"But their hide, it's like kevlar."
"Not between the eyes."
"Your a good shot I gather?"
"The best. How do you think I got this old, by running away from every slaver?"
I look up and down the rows of ammunition and select a box of .22 cartridges and a leather bandolier to carry the ammo.
"Minty is a .22 repeater, she hold's 20 rounds, you won't need that."
"Yeah but I'm gonna look badass with a bunch of bullets across my chest, don't you think? Styling, right?" and I sported it, making poses, and we both giggled like children.
The old man smiles and says, "Sure son... Styling." and he seems to drift away in thought, he's eyes scanning the room but seeing nothing, "My wife used to talk like that. She always said, if you're going to wasteland it then do it with style."
Wife. I tried not to think about it.
"You really think Tee is old enough to handle a gun? Do you have any legos?"
"Goddamn it don't get her playing with toys, she needs to learn about guns. I've seen younger folks than her do it."
The little girl wanders into the common room and I hear from behind Archie, "Is there any food?"
"On the table, hon," I reply and I hear her pull a chair out and take a seat.
I look up and down the rows of big guns and from in the corner under a cobweb I pull out an old BB gun.
On the side it read, "Red Ryder." There's a red hooded cloak folded up on the shelf and I grab it too.
"This thing work?" I ask.
"Sure does. That was mine, a long long time ago, until I found bigger better toys." I grab a box of BB's from the shelf.
Tee wanders into the doorway beside Archie and looks around, her eyes wide as she scans the rows and rows of weapons, and she takes a handful of his pants and closes her fingers tightly. I hand her the red child's cloak and she oohs and ahhs and slips it on.
"Here little one, I got you a gift" and I hand her the Red Ryder BB gun." The first thing she does is look down the barrel with one eye squinted shut.
"It's dark in there," she says, and waves it around in one hand.
"Uncle Archie's gonna teach you to handle it today."
He kneels next to her and helps her shoulder it and look down the sight.
"Lesson number one, Tee, that barrel is for killing. Don't point it at yourself or anyone else you love," Archie says as she practices looking down the sight.
"See this lever? You gotta pump up the pressure, see the guage? Don't let it go in the red or it'll break." He helps her pump the lever, "that's enough right there, but don't shoot anything unless you have our permission. The girl nods, and her finger finds the trigger and pulls it.
"Ouch! Fuck!" I say and grab my arm.
Archie laughs, "And rule number 2, don't pull the trigger unless you're aiming at something to kill, ok?"
She blushes, "ok."
Archie plucks the BB from my arm with a set of needle-nose pliers and we finish gearing up.
I check out the array of pistols on the other rack and select a big 10 millimeter.
"Ready to go hunting?"
"What are we hunting?"
"Slavers,"
"That's a shitty idea Archie, we should stay the hell away from those people."
"And what, let them ruin more lives, take more prisoners? There's a pile of em at the clinic, probably all dosed up."
I shake my head, but I see his point. The wasteland needs champions, but there were none, not in the heat, dust, fear and decay. Only volunteers.
"Why don't we steer clear?"
His eyes darken and his face turns angry.
"I'll do it without you then ya goddamn wuss. My wife was taken by slavers and I'm gonna kill those bastards with or without you," and suddenly I understand.
"Ok, ok.. But can we leave Tee out of it? She's too young to understand."
"No," Tee chimed in, leaning her weapon on the wall "I get it. They're bad people, and we're good people, and they have to die. They take people and chain them and hurt them. We gotta do it dad," she says, looking at me sternly with her hands on her hips. My heart hurt at what she had called me. My own father had sacrificed himself long ago so I could live. Maybe I would meet the same fate, to save Tee. I knew I would do it in a heartbeat if I had to.
"Ok ok, I'm in," and I grab a couple fragmentation grenades from the shelf, and hand one to Archie.
We would be the champions of the wasteland today. Does that make us good, like Tee said? I don't know. But the mission felt great, like fresh blood in my veins. Purpose. Every wastelander needs a purpose, beyond white carpet, beyond the next iguana, and Archie had his. And now, so did we.
Today, we will become murderers of murderers.
Welcome to the wasteland.
"The bugs love us,"
I shake my head. Archie had obviously lost a marble or two in the wasteland.
I stand up and check Tee on the upper bunk. She's still sleeping soundly, dreaming a child's dreams, maybe of green places, fresh food and water.
I go to to the door and try the handle. It's not locked. I emerge into the common room and the old man is there cleaning his rifle.
"Want to go hunting?"
"I thought you were going to kick us out in the morning."
"I changed my mind. You and I should spend some time together, son. You've got a lot to learn if you want to survive out there."
I roll my eyes and take a seat at the breakfast table, where there's already a bowl of food set out.
"Hope you like mut-fruit surprise."
I did like it, surprisingly. I felt the pleasant burning in my veins again.
"You put scorpid poison in everything?"
"Just about. Go into the back room and get a rifle and some wasteland clothing."
I walk past him and enter the storage room. On one rack is twenty rifles of all different kinds. Across from it are boxes and boxes of ammunition. I had never seen so many guns, unclaimed, in great shape. There were boxes of grenades, land mines, and gun parts everywhere. A single plasma grenade rests on it's side on the top shelf, and I pocket it. Archie leans in the doorway,
"Whoever set this place up was a gun nut. I've even got a rocket launcher in the back but don't bother, the thing weighs a ton."
I run my hand over the guns as I walk down the narrow aisle and I get a feeling from the goddess and stop. My hand rests on a beautiful gun, with gold inlay and mahogany stock. I lift it from the rack and examine it.
"Minty's .22. Good choice, but the penetration's not great. You won't kill a deathclaw with that gun." Archie smiles as he watches me, his great blue eyes crinkling at the edges.
"If I can't kill it with this it's big enough to stay away from. Is there someone else here?"
"No, no, it says Minty right on the stock," I check the gun. Carved carefully into the wood is a single word "Minty," in a child's scrawl. I run my fingers over the inscription and I know long ago someone had loved this weapon.
"You know, your kiddo is about the age to learn to handle a gun."
"Don't wake her up," I say as I turn to him, "She's dreaming of good things," and I test the weight of the rifle in my hands.
"Have you ever seen a deathclaw?" I visualized what I had heard about. Black, and ten feet tall, claws like a great bear, jaws that could crush iron, lizard skin, and covered in sharp spines.
"Oh, a few times. They're not around now so don't worry yourself. They migrate. They're not too hard to kill, as long as your not dropping all your shit, pissing yourself, and running in the opposite direction."
"But their hide, it's like kevlar."
"Not between the eyes."
"Your a good shot I gather?"
"The best. How do you think I got this old, by running away from every slaver?"
I look up and down the rows of ammunition and select a box of .22 cartridges and a leather bandolier to carry the ammo.
"Minty is a .22 repeater, she hold's 20 rounds, you won't need that."
"Yeah but I'm gonna look badass with a bunch of bullets across my chest, don't you think? Styling, right?" and I sported it, making poses, and we both giggled like children.
The old man smiles and says, "Sure son... Styling." and he seems to drift away in thought, he's eyes scanning the room but seeing nothing, "My wife used to talk like that. She always said, if you're going to wasteland it then do it with style."
Wife. I tried not to think about it.
"You really think Tee is old enough to handle a gun? Do you have any legos?"
"Goddamn it don't get her playing with toys, she needs to learn about guns. I've seen younger folks than her do it."
The little girl wanders into the common room and I hear from behind Archie, "Is there any food?"
"On the table, hon," I reply and I hear her pull a chair out and take a seat.
I look up and down the rows of big guns and from in the corner under a cobweb I pull out an old BB gun.
On the side it read, "Red Ryder." There's a red hooded cloak folded up on the shelf and I grab it too.
"This thing work?" I ask.
"Sure does. That was mine, a long long time ago, until I found bigger better toys." I grab a box of BB's from the shelf.
Tee wanders into the doorway beside Archie and looks around, her eyes wide as she scans the rows and rows of weapons, and she takes a handful of his pants and closes her fingers tightly. I hand her the red child's cloak and she oohs and ahhs and slips it on.
"Here little one, I got you a gift" and I hand her the Red Ryder BB gun." The first thing she does is look down the barrel with one eye squinted shut.
"It's dark in there," she says, and waves it around in one hand.
"Uncle Archie's gonna teach you to handle it today."
He kneels next to her and helps her shoulder it and look down the sight.
"Lesson number one, Tee, that barrel is for killing. Don't point it at yourself or anyone else you love," Archie says as she practices looking down the sight.
"See this lever? You gotta pump up the pressure, see the guage? Don't let it go in the red or it'll break." He helps her pump the lever, "that's enough right there, but don't shoot anything unless you have our permission. The girl nods, and her finger finds the trigger and pulls it.
"Ouch! Fuck!" I say and grab my arm.
Archie laughs, "And rule number 2, don't pull the trigger unless you're aiming at something to kill, ok?"
She blushes, "ok."
Archie plucks the BB from my arm with a set of needle-nose pliers and we finish gearing up.
I check out the array of pistols on the other rack and select a big 10 millimeter.
"Ready to go hunting?"
"What are we hunting?"
"Slavers,"
"That's a shitty idea Archie, we should stay the hell away from those people."
"And what, let them ruin more lives, take more prisoners? There's a pile of em at the clinic, probably all dosed up."
I shake my head, but I see his point. The wasteland needs champions, but there were none, not in the heat, dust, fear and decay. Only volunteers.
"Why don't we steer clear?"
His eyes darken and his face turns angry.
"I'll do it without you then ya goddamn wuss. My wife was taken by slavers and I'm gonna kill those bastards with or without you," and suddenly I understand.
"Ok, ok.. But can we leave Tee out of it? She's too young to understand."
"No," Tee chimed in, leaning her weapon on the wall "I get it. They're bad people, and we're good people, and they have to die. They take people and chain them and hurt them. We gotta do it dad," she says, looking at me sternly with her hands on her hips. My heart hurt at what she had called me. My own father had sacrificed himself long ago so I could live. Maybe I would meet the same fate, to save Tee. I knew I would do it in a heartbeat if I had to.
"Ok ok, I'm in," and I grab a couple fragmentation grenades from the shelf, and hand one to Archie.
We would be the champions of the wasteland today. Does that make us good, like Tee said? I don't know. But the mission felt great, like fresh blood in my veins. Purpose. Every wastelander needs a purpose, beyond white carpet, beyond the next iguana, and Archie had his. And now, so did we.
Today, we will become murderers of murderers.
Welcome to the wasteland.
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