As I Walk These Broken Roads (25 page)

*
*
*

Wentworth
’
s dreams were broken and distorted. He kept thinking he was chasing something, or maybe being chased, but he couldn
’
t say what or who. In t
he waking world he was sweating w
herever t
he sun beat down on his jacket. I
t kept intruding into his dreams, making him feel sticky and unclean, like he was in a swamp. There was a buzzing sound in his ears whenever insects flew by. The dreams kept his heart at a heightened pace, and adrenaline flowed through his veins. Not enough to be called a panic, it was more like caution, or edginess – but too much for proper sleep.

The amputee
woman moaned
, struggling against the straps
, her skin blistered. He aimed the rifle at her head.

He
a
woke up with a jolt. His eyes opened up, surveying the scene around him, keeping the rest of his body still. The tree branches above him, gray and eldritch, were swaying gently in the wind, covering half the sky. Immediately about him he could hear the sounds of nature, the quiet breaking of twigs and shuffling of leaves as the forest animals went about their lives, the wind whistling through the branches above and the grass around him. Beyond that, the far-off shouting of men and machines. The air was humid, and he was uncomfortable in his jacket. The fresh morning air was gone, and the earth no longer stole his body
’
s heat. The shouts were becoming more frequent.

“
You picked a good time to wake up. I was about to give you a shake.
”

“
Why? What
’
s happening?
”

“
Well, after they woke up Blondie made them exercise for a bit, and then they started doing maintenance – I wrote it all down – but now they seem excited about something. There
’
s all lining up.
”

Wentworth had his binoculars by now
, but he was wary about using them
,
“
They
’
re getting ready for an inspection parade.
”

“
A what?
”

“
But not from Slayer… that
’
s him down by the front gate… shit, they
’
ve got guards up now!
”

“
I wrote it all down – and I kept an eye on them,
they won
’
t see us
.
”

“
Okay… somebody
’
s coming in the front gate… shit, Raxx, is that who I think it is?
”

“
Yes
it is.
”

“
Damnit, h
e
’
s the last guy we need killed… we might just have to–
”

“
They
’
re not going to kill him.
”

“
Well, yeah, not at first – they
’
re going to parade him aro
und and make fun of him
. I wonder how they hell they got him to–
”

“
No, Wentworth, you don
’
t get it – this
‘
parade
’
or whatever, isn
’
t to make fun of him –
this parade is for
Jenkin
s
’
sake.
”

A grim wind was blowing across compound, settling into the corners and moaning against the earth. The band was gathered in the north end, facing the entrance, Slayer and his Second standing to the side. The men weren
’
t formed into rows, they jittered, and their postures slouched,
but
they stood with a martialness
which
traced back to the first hunters standing solemnly on the savannah. As Jenkins
’
dark-cloaked figure
drifted
through the entrance, they all went down to one knee. The priest moved towards them, hands clasped.

Wentworth
’
s eyes narrowed. Some of this was ritual that he understood, but there were other elements he didn
’
t recognize. Next to him, Raxx furrowed his brow. The elements he recognized were frightening.

Slayer
’
s face was dark and serious. His Second
’
s, void. The assembled band glistened with the same sweat and anger as the night before, but now it was controlled, transmuted into a new form.

The Elder kept his visage remote.

He reached them,
walking
slowly up and down the makeshift lines, staring hard into each one
’
s eyes before pacing to the next. His robes drank in the light, a carbon cut-out from the dust and the shine. His movements were deliberate, his gaze was inevitable. The wind
’
s sad moaning was the only voice raised against him.

He paused at the final set of eyes then walked away, taking up a position in front of the assembled band. He raised his arms – for a moment even the wind silenced – and then, projecting from deep within his chest, he started chanting in a melodic tongue.

O, Incendia ut nisus orbis terrarum,

Recipero illum virum ut discipulus.

Ira lemma, Suo lemma, Consecro lemma.

Up on the cliff side, the distant hum of it reached the two watchers.
“
It
’
s Latin,
”
whispered Raxx

Robure meus manus,

Ut is vires noceo.

Lentus meus tergum,

Ut sentio haud poena.

“
How do
these jokers know Latin? …you manage to catch any of it?
”

Congelo meus anima,

Ut misericordia may non habito intus.

Vos es nostrum Satraps.

Vos es totus Verum.

The M
echanic grimaced,
“
I only know
a few
words,
”
He shook his head,
“
Couldn
’
t even guess.
”

“
Looks like they
’
re done anyway.
”

* * *

Jenkins continued speaking for some time, but without the chanting projection only a deep sibilance reached the men on the cliff. Upon finishing the speech his body seemed to close in on itself, hands clasping; effectively dismissing those gathered. Within a heartbeat Slayer
’
s Second had bounded to his feet, facing the men. A set of sharp, terse orders burst from him, he gestured fiercely. The men stood and scattered, returning to their previous tasks. The Second watched them go with an intense aspect, while Slayer stood and walked over to Jenkins.

Wentworth could see his lips moving, his hand itched for the binoculars – but there were too many eyes that might
notice
the glint.

Jenkins responded with a slow nod.

The three walked slowly to the hangar, past the other men who had returned to their previous work. When they had disappeared into its depths, Wentworth
’
s shoulders relaxed.

“
Looks like you were right,
”
he pulled his canteen out of his belt, unscrewing the cap,
“
Right about Jenkins. He
’
s no victim. There
’
s something in him now that wasn
’
t there before.
”

“
It was always there. It was just hidden under false piety.
”

Wentworth swished the water around his mouth, washing away the sleep. The Mechanic seemed to have a penchant for archaic language.
“
Raxx, if there
’
s something going on here that you understand and I don
’
t, I
’
d appreciate it if you told me.
”

Raxx ch
ewed his lip ring for a moment, then lit a
cigarette
to
collect his thoughts.
“
Wentworth – here
’
s the thing – you
’
ve been a lot of places, and seen a lot of things, but sometimes I think you miss a lot of what makes people tick. If you don
’
t agree with what some group thinks, well, then you just sort of dismiss them.
”

He
raised an eyebrow
,
“
You know as well as I the type of nonsense most of them believe in. You said yourself, last week, how they don
’
t accept the truth, even when you hand it to them on a silver platter. How
’
s that relevant?
”

“
If you
’
re going to predict what they
’
re going to do, then you need to know what they think.
”

“
To a certain extent, sure, but listen, Raxx – whe
n you get right down to it they
all basically think the same. Doesn
’
t matter what city you go to, you watch their movements, you look at their faces, and you can figure out ninety percent of what they
’
re all about. Add on another nine percent if you hear them talk for a few minutes. Any of the cultural stuff just isn
’
t that important. Maybe if you
’
re trying to live with them, then maybe it matters, but when you
’
re trying to figure out whether or not they
’
ll riot?
”
he shook his head,
“
Get right down to it, they
’
re all just animals.
”

“
I
’
m not explaining it right. It
’
s like – okay, how about this – remember what you were saying last week about the difference between tactics and strategy?
”

“
To be honest, not really. But if I said something like:
‘
Tactics is the Battle, Strategy is the War,
’
then
yeah
.
”

“
That’s what I mean. Y
ou
’
re talking about – knowing if someone
’
s about to go for their knife, or whatever – reading their body language – that
’
s the tactics of the situation, right? And I
’
m not saying that you
’
ve got any problems there.
You’ve got the ninety-nine percent.
But to figure out the strategy – to figure out what someone
’
s going to be doing, not five minutes from now, but five days from now – you need that other one percent. It doesn
’
t matter in a bar fight, but when you
’
ve got a mess like the one down in that mine pit there – well, yeah. Knowing
why
they
’
re doing what they
’
re doing will tell you what they
’
re
going
to do.
”

Wentworth tapped his fingers then pulled out a cigarette for himself.
“
Okay… let
’
s say you
’
re on to something. What does that mean here? What
’
s that one percent that I
’
m missing?
”

Raxx let out an exasperated breath,
“
Honestly, I
’
m mostly going by instinct right now; something
’
s bugging me about them, but I don
’
t totally understand. I guess… I
’
ve seen other groups that are like them. I
’
ve seen this sort of behaviour before.
”
He took a puff of his cigarette,
“
It
’
s the religion. It
’
s there in the corner, motivating them – they
’
re confide
nt about something – too confide
nt. Like they know something they couldn
’
t. Nobody gets that way without religion involved.
”

“
Religion…
”
During their conversation his subconscious had
been breaking
down the band
’
s milling about. A pattern was beginning to emerge.
“
I guess that makes sense. There was a reason they tried to ban it before the War, after all. Maybe if they
’
d done a better job…
”

“
Don
’
t blame that on religion. It didn
’
t start the war.
”

“
Yeah, well, maybe not. Anyway, that
’
s a conversation for another time. I think I
’
m beginning to suss out the organizational structure of these guys.
”

* * *

As the day wore on, a sheet of clouds rolled across the sky, dimming the light to a washed-out grey. The sweat and dust of the morning had given way to an unseasonable cool. Several crickets mistook it for dusk. Jenkins stayed holed up in the hangar, and Slayer
’
s band carried on as before. The clang of metal on metal, and the grunt of meat on meat did little to fill the silent air.

Atop the cliff, they
’
d divided up the responsibilities. Raxx kept a close eye on the small group servicing their vehicles. He watched them perform various minor repairs and maintenances. Every so often he
’
d make notes about the vehicles
’
conditions
.

Wentworth stayed focussed on the bulk of the men. They were clustered in three separate groups, spread out across the cleared area of the compound. The group furthest from them, lined up by the side of the hangar, were practicing weapons drills. One of the sergeants he
’
d spotted earlier, a wiry man with eye-liner tattoos, had been demonstrating the operation
of
different small arms – thankfully no heavy weapons, just rifles and submachine guns – then when that was over, they
’
d started target practice with a dozen-odd cross bows of different manufacture. Wentworth surmised that they must not have any chemists in their group; that would explain why they were conserving ammunition.

Another group was gathered out front of the hangar, closer to the cliff face. A heavy-set sergeant with a thick, black beard had been running them through different combative
drill
s. The moves he was teaching
were
a mixture of boxing and some of the more ornamental martial arts. Nothing too impressive, but it
would be
enough for the local
Mennite population
.

It was the third group that had him
most
worried. They were spread throughout the structures abutting the entrance, practicing different run-and-gun manoeuvres. Some of them he recognized –
ripped straight from the pages of documents in his Datapad. Their sergeant was a man almost a
s
large as Slayer himself, with a sheer black mohawk across his head. He drove the other band members at a frantic pace, firing them through the moves, repeating them, forcing them to get it right.

He was getting a bad feeling about this. They were uns
killed, but
weren’
t amateurs
. These men would know how to work as a team.

“
Looks like they
’
re not just mechanics.
”

“
Huh
?
”
he
’
d been so focussed on what the others were
doing;
he
’
d missed seeing the group working on the vehicles wander off towards the hangar.

“
It looks like they
’
re cooks, too.
”

“
Porters.
”
Several had grabbed some of the raided supplies on their way to the kitchen.
“
So, learn anything about their fleet?
”

“
The vehicles? Yeah. They
’
re all in working order, the worst are a couple that
’
re burning oil. There might be a coup
l
e
of
other minor problems, I couldn
’
t say about the alignment – oh yeah, one of them
’
s got bad suspension – but none of that
’
ll stop them from moving. I don
’
t think these guys are the one that restored them, though.
”

“
Why do you say that?
”

Raxx shook his head,
“
The work they were doing wasn
’
t that good – the guy with the welding torch seemed okay, but welding the body-panels on like he was doing isn
’
t something I
’
d expect to see from a mechanic that
cares
. These guys are good enough to keep
‘
em running, but I don
’
t think they
’
ll be able to maintain them for long. I
’
d guess they stole them from one of the Chicago caravans, except that those troupes carry some serious armaments.
”

“
Maybe you shouldn
’
t second guess yourself, Raxx. You see that group running around the sheds there? What sort of organization do you notice?
”

Raxx stared down at them for a long moment, lips parted.
“
Well, they seem to be working in teams of two.
”

“
They are – but look bigger. They
’
re also working in bigger teams of four, and two big teams of eight.
”

“
…okay, I think I see what you
’
re saying.
”

“
Remember what I said about the two of us doing this together?
”

“
You said the difference was exponential, not linear?
”

“
Yeah. Well, the same idea here. These guys are organized, and some of the manoeuvres they
’
re using are based on lots of history and practice. It
’
s a good thing we didn
’
t try and take them out last night – drunk or not, at least a few of them would have reacted in time. They aren
’
t good at what they do – but they
’
re working together.
”

“
That
’
s bad, right?
”

“
Yeah.
”

“
Shit. So what are we gonna do then?
”

“
I don
’
t know. A direct assault would be too risky at this point. There
’
s still the question of Jenkins though – I want to know how he
’
s mixed up with these guys. Those Mennites don
’
t really seem the type to mix with Slayer and his men. They
’
re too
insular
.
”

“
I agree. They barely mix with the people in Hope, even though they
’
re trading. Just look at how they treated us.
”

“
Exactly. I want to know what that relationship
’
s all about before I make any decisions.
”

“
Hey – those guys
are breaking. Looks like they
’
re going for lunch.
”

“
Maybe Jenkins will finally come out.
”