GunBarrel Gauntlet: The Last Bronze II

21. Pigface and The Nipplebiter.

On the second morning since their arrival at the Junkyards a hot air balloon was sent aloft into the opening skies, floating above the defenses at the end of a great tether to keep it positioned as a landmark signal for the wheeled war machines that were materializing out of the western horizon.

Under the canopy of the patchwork envelope of the balloon was a basket large enough for three people that hung from a network of ropes, in which they intently watched the travelling dawn shadows of the Skin Pirate's convoy drawing closer along the earth.

The height of the balloon was too distant for their voices to carry distinctly back to the ground, but they had other mean of communication; from over the edge of the basket the scouts dropped a fist sized rock on a parachute, descending on the wake of the dawn breeze back into the compound below as a warning to prepare for the arrival of the convoy from Gaswells.

From the manway gate a line of bodies in tattered robes came forth to wait outside the walls. Among the six figures were Carrion, Shamrock, and the Nomad in disguise, joining company with the three Scabeaters Scratch, Roach, and the Derro.

Scratch folded back his hood to get an unobstructed view of the vehicles approaching them, silent like the others until he recognized the lead vehicle, a square Ford F-100 chassis with missing roof pylons.

"Pigface... and the Nipplebiter." The Scabeater gave voice to his concern.

As predicted by Tin Lizard during his discussion of the plan nights previously, the Ford pickup was leading another escort vehicle and two cab-over tankers; a Volvo G-89 and Kenworth K-124 that arrived in a haze of dust and exhaust fumes.

Stretched over the frame of the lead vehicle was a decoupage of human hides tanned sienna brown under a burning sun, screaming faces with empty eyes and mouths like the images of ghosts stitched together in eternal torment. The imagery was almost as frightening as the visage of the tribal raiders whom piloted this lead war chariot.

The one they called the Nipplebiter had the unblinking stare of a psychopath, bold orbs that looked out from a narrow beak-nosed face with no lips, torn off to leave him with a perpetual grin. Pigface was just that, a bike helmet made from the cured head of a wild boar that obscured the upper half of the monstrous disfigurement his countenance had become.

Like the others, the Nomad studied their appearance briefly before his attention settled onto the stencilled icon displayed on the door panel, a skull with lightning bolts shooting out from the eye sockets. He had seen the same heraldry on the underside of a plane days earlier, before reaching Dogtown that fateful night.

"I'm seein' too many of you Scabs for my likin', we don't need six of you to negotiate!" Nipplebiter leant over the passenger side of the Ford pickup as he squawked at them with a piercing voice. "What's goin' on here?"

"We need them for today, Tin Lizard said to teach them the protocol for the exchange." Scratch quickly replied to placate the villain. "You see, many of us are very sick now, and if we should die soon without any replacements to carry on the job... it would be a great offense to Zeus the Lightning, so we thought we'd prepare them now and show them the way."

"Pig's arse!" The other Pirate grunted.

"We're sorry we couldn't inform you earlier, but we thought it would be easier this way, so there's no hiccups for the haitch-two-oh; wouldn't wanna upset Zeus or Hercules now, would we?" Scratch continued to make his excuses.

"Come closer!" Nipplebiter sneered.

Carefully approaching the vicinity of the war chariot, the six figures huddled together under the unnerving gaze of the Pirates.

"We ain't got all day to go flayin' the unroadworthy." Pigface spoke from behind the totemic steering wheel. "Get 'em in the truck, let's get this show on the road."

"Any monkey business from you Scabs, and I'll have to castrate you with my teeth!" The Nipplebiter chattered his rodent incisors together like a rattlesnake warning. "Now, go on then, you heard 'im! Get on the truck!"

In obeisance to the Pirate's command, Scratch guided the rest of his kind away from the lead vehicle at an easy pace as they all suppressed their fears of discovery. Carrion, Shamrock, and the Nomad were alarmed at the pipe rifles and modified armaments on display among the marauders guarding the trucks; crude firearms with multiple barrels that could be twisted to accommodate a variety of ammunition calibres.

"Up there!" A tire armoured thug pointed his crank-rifle toward a roofless cage that was positioned along the upper deck of the Volvo tanker's carriage.

In quick succession the hooded Scabeaters climbed the access ladder at the rear end of the carriage, entering the cage deck through a gate that was held aside by another Pirate adorned with a necklace of fingers. With a clang of doom the gate was closed and bolted, four guards remaining inside with them as the vertical exhausts on the cabin ahead began to exhale smoke with the anticipation of movement.

As the convoy began to turn about in the heavy chorus of engine noise, Carrion felt as though she had just given away her freedom for the sake of an impossible dream, cheating herself and Sanctuary for having believed there could be any hope in negotiating for water. Everywhere she looked there were armed men, either inside the cage or positioned along the deck of the opposite tanker, staring back at her and the others from the Junkyards as though they could see through the ragged disguises.

Gazing back toward the fading walls of the compound as the landscape rose and fell in the oscillation of the hills they travelled across, she made a silent vow to Audrey that they'd never be separated again by savage men...