“How long are we talking?”
“A few days. Maybe a week. Is there somewhere you’ve got to be?”
“No… not exactly. I can wait — what’s important to me is that she’s up and running again, one-hundred percent. You seem like a straight up guy, and I think I lucked out running into you. I’ll wait a week if that’s what it takes, rather than have it break down someplace where nobody’s got a clue.”
“Sounds good. Tell you what, since I’m getting a learning experience out of the whole deal, I’ll top off your fluid levels too, free of charge.”
Wentworth nodded slowly. “Alright.”
A sudden yawn caught Raxx, and he covered it with his fist. “What time is it, anyway?” He stepped out of the garage, and looked up at the sun. “Huh. Just about noon. You want to grab something to eat? I need food or my brain box stops working.”
“Sure. You got stuff here?”
He shook his head. “No, I’ve never been good at that. One of the locals does a lunch run for the farmers, though. Her name’s Tracy; she brings out sandwiches and juice for them. She does all her prep work at the market, and I head by there sometimes when I’ve forgotten to stock up. She should still be there, and it’s on the way back to Landfall’s.”
“Right on. Let’s go.”
“Yo, Billy!” Verizon wandered over to the cargo trailer, scratching idly at a bug bite on his arm. “There’s the cutest little redhead working in the office over there! She’s got those weird tattoos like everyone else here, but I’ve got to tell you’—” he nudged him with his elbow, “I kind of like it!”
“That’s great, man.” he paused in cleaning his rifle, and put it down on the cargo behind him, “Any word on what’s going on with Vince?”
“What? Vince is fine, no problems. What do you mean ‘That’s great’? I was giving you an opening there, Prince Billington — I figured green and red would go nice together. But if you don’t wanna jump… I can always take your place.”
“Dude, we’re only here for a week.”
“So? You know what they say ‘bout these small places…”
“And what’d that be?” he scratched at the stubble growing in on either side of his mohawk. It might only be midday, but he was tired and looking forward to that pint Vince had promised.
“They say that the men like the mules, and the women sleep alone!”
“I thought that’s what they said ‘bout you and your ex-girlfriend.”
“Maybe with your mother — on her trampoline! Oh! Seriously, though, Billy, you’ve gotta make the most of these oppor-tuna-ties — locals are always looking for some new blood!”
“Nah man… I got a girl back in Hope. Met her a year back when I was working for the Stanson company. Can’t be doing nothing while I’m here.”
“Shit, man, you didn’t say nothing! What’s her name? Maybe I know her.”
“I’d be wagering that you don’t know her.”
“That ain’t what I meant!”
Billy chewed his lip. “Her name’s Arel. Uh, here,” he shifted his weight and reached into his back pocket for his wallet. “I got a picture of us.”
He pulled out a sepia-toned photo wrapped in plastic and handed it over to Verizon, who lifted up his aviators and examined it thoroughly.
“Prince Billington… If I ain’t mistaken, this ain’t no charcoal sketch. What we got here is one of those high-end chemical pics — the full woozle-caboozle, usually reserved for them married rich-folks and Petrolians. You really like this girl, doncha?”
“Yeah…” he looked down and went back to cleaning his rifle, “It was a Valentine’s Day present I got for us. Her family’s the florists out in Hope. They ain’t too keen on their daughter shacking with some caravan guard, so that’s why I’m trying to save the bucks to get some cargo to take down south, for the next time I’m with a proper caravan.”
Verizon whistled, and handed the picture back. “You’re an ambitious boy, my Billy-O. But I thinks I know why — I saw her in the city square before tacking on with Vince here. She’s a sweetie, alright. You could just tell by the way she smiles.”
“Thanks,” he put the picture away and leaned back, elbows up on the cargo. Verizon jumped up and sat next to him taking up the same position.
“Oh ya, I was gonna say; Vince is having some sort of conversation with the Councilman. Red said they’ll be a while — Hey, that rhymed!”
“Think we ought to start unloading?”
“Hey man, it ain’t like we know what Vince wants done with all this stuff.”
“Yeah, that’s true.”
They sat there, shooting the breeze, nodding at the locals, and watching the shadows drift, until Billy jolted forward. “Hello! Is that who I think it is? Hey, Raxx! Is that you?”
“Huh? Bill… Billy? Oh, hey man, how’s it going?”
Raxx walked over to the trailer, and the two guards jumped down.
“I haven’t seen you in ages,” said Raxx, shaking his hand. He glanced over to the man next to him. “Billy and I worked some of the same caravans a while back. That must be, what — almost two years back? This here’s Wentworth. He’s new in town; I’m doing some work for him.”
“Hi there Wentworth, pleased to meet you.” The man shook his offered hand and nodded. “This here’s Verizon.”
The other guard bent his arm out at an awkward angle and shook both their hands with exaggerated theatrics. “Pleased to do-ya for!”
“So what, you guys here with Vince?”
“Yeah, he’s in the Offices over there talking to the Councilman. Me and Verizon are waiting for him.”
“Well, we just came down to the market to grab a bite.” He craned his neck, “Tracy is still here.” He smiled with an exaggerated grin. “So how are you feeling gentlemen? Would you like to join us?”
Verizon smirked, “I could do with something other than trail mix.”
“Yeah, why not?” agreed Billy. “Then Raxx here can explain to me what he’s doing out here in Blackstock of all places!”
Vince walked out of the town hall, lost in thought as he tried to dredge up more details about the stranger. Despite urging the Councilman to stay calm, he was growing apprehensive. He’d lied about only having second-hand information; but he’d forgotten the details of the first-hand. All he remembered was the tone.
The younger merchant had been hushed, leaning across the table as if the story were illicit. His eyes had darted back and forth, glowing with excitement and pride. He’d come within a hair’s breadth of danger and survived to tell. It had been a grand tale.
But Vince hadn’t really been listening.
He’d heard dozens like it before, and this one took place at the far end of the North Route — nowhere he’d ever be travelling. All he’d been interested in was the price of steel, the pint in front of him, and the bronze-skinned girl working behind the bar.
Now he was kicking himself — what was the name of the group chasing the man? ‘The Regent?’ ‘The Revenants?’ And why did they want him? He shook his head, then looked up and came to an abrupt halt. Next to his cart stood his two guards, that boy Raxx, and a fourth man dressed all in black.
Wentworth.
The other three were animated; leaning against the cargo trailer, eating sandwiches, and talking with their mouths full. Wentworth stood off to the left, chewing slowly. His face was impassive, his eyes were hidden behind dark lenses, and there was a dangerous looking rifle slung across his back. His silent nods were his only response to the other three’s conversation.