Road Gangs: Ray Part II

Dawning lit a cigarette as he watched the moon rise behind the machinery of Thorne Three, remaining close to his technical in case of an attack. Being somewhat accustomed to human lifestyle, he would normally have his car stereo system livening up the sector. Unfortunately, with recent sightings and reports of gang activity among the other wells, now was the time for vigilance under uncomfortable silence.

It was becoming cooler as the moon rose. He knew it would not be long before he would have to get back inside the vehicle for warmth, but his back was sore from sitting in the uncomfortable kevlar seat for so many hours. He promised himself that on his next shift he would definitely bring along some warm clothing.

He panned his vision around the glowing vista, observing the odd shapes of the surrounding canyons silhouetted against the purple sky. He impulsively raised his hoof into his vision, trying to level out the slopes with the flat underside. The silhouettes matched perfectly if he closed one of his eyes. He panned around some more, flattening out more hills and canyons, until he reached another technical atop a nearby slope. It almost made an amusing impression of holding a toy car in the air.

It was a 1963 Ford Fairlane Thunderbolt battered with ghetto armor, armed with a roof-mounted Mk.19 grenade-launcher and a window-mounted RPK-74. Dawning remembered this was Lace Jade's vehicle. These two were close friends since childhood, yet Dawning had always felt there was a hidden competition between them. One that Lace had always won, with Dawning feeling somewhat inadequate at the end.

Case and point, Lace's cherry though battle-hardened Thunderbolt, whereas Dawning was stuck with an EMDETech imitation of a 1977 AMC Pacer. On the bright side, Dawning was a First Lieutenant, meaning he was solely in charge of Thorne Three's security. Lace was a Second Lieutenant. This made him an SIC of sorts, but still designated him perimeter-watch.

"What are you doing?" A voice came from the Pacer behind Dawning.

He finally realized how awkward he must have looked with his hoof pointed towards the horizon, topped off with random giggles of amusement to insinuate that his cigarette must be something more powerful.

"Dawn?"

He put his hoof down and turned towards the vehicle. "Succumbing to insanity. Want to join me?"

The white unicorn furrowed his brow as he sat up from his reclined passenger seat. "No." He found a magazine on the dashboard, which he draped over his face as he lay back into the seat.

Dawning turned back around to face the setting sun. "Why, of course not. That would only require effort on your part for some friendly communication. Celestia forbid."

His irritated mumbling held truth to his partner's disposition. Dusky had a real attitude problem with Dawning that he did not understand. For some reason he was bitter towards his partnership with Dawning, to the point that he desired no communication with him and instead would rather sleep the hours away in the technical while Dawning wandered about searching for as much amusement as possible. The only thing they could agree with, it seems, was a shared taste in human music.

Dusky could hear his mumblings clearly and groaned under the magazine.

Dawning decided to taunt out of boredom. "Sometimes I forget you're even here. With casual radio chatter prohibited I might as well force a tulpa to overcome my solitude. I mean, would it kill you to say anything at all to me besides questioning a simple action?"

"Booga-booga." Dusky answered.

"I'll bet you're a hit at parties. A real gala king."

Dawning was startled to hear the sound of the magazine ripping away from Dusky's face and turned to find it being crumbled and shredded at him, then thrown to the ground. He casually glanced away from it towards his partner. "Feel better now?"

Dusky made a deadpan ambivalence gesture with his hoof, then crashed back into his seat.

Lace Jade's voice crackled on the CB communicator. "Aggressor, this is Liberator. Come in, Dawn."

They both lunged for the communicator, but Dawning was the quickest to reach it in time.

"Aggressor here." he replied to Lace. "What's up?"

"We've got visitors approaching from the south end of Thorne Sector."

"Friendly?"

"Um... You should probably have a look for yourself."

Dawning glanced over to Dusky. They were both in puzzlement as to why he did not give them a straight answer like any other professional guardspony would. Dawning decided not to press the issue. "Copy that. Out." He reached for a pair of binoculars and ran to the elevation that concealed Thorne Three from the rest of the wells.

He was careful to crawl next to protruding rock formations as he reached the top of the slope overlooking the dunes around Thorne Three. Putting the binoculars up to his eyes he scanned the dirt road connecting Thorne Three with the main road through the sector. There he found the mysterious visitors mentioned by Lace, kicking up a cloud of dust as their vehicles charged down the road in an organized two-by-two column. Upon closer look at the vehicles themselves he began to understand the confusion.

The two lead vehicles appeared to be a 2S25 "Sprut" tank-destroyer and some kind of futuristic Jeep with an off-center rear blister turret. Both carried flags bearing the Equestrian coat of arms indicating that they were friendly, but the rest of the vehicles were obviously of Changeling origin. If the drones manning the external weapons were not an immediate indication of such, the design of the IFVs sure were. They were the most alien-looking armored transports he had ever seen.

Dawning was unsure whether this was classic Changeling deception or actual collaboration. With such an organized approach for their sector in a seemingly neutral stance possibly indicated the latter, but he needed to be sure.

He turned to face the nearest watchtower guarding Thorne Three with a whistle to catch the guard's attention. He then gave the "lookout" signal to indicate company, but it was immediately followed by the "hold-fire" signal to ensure the guards stood down while the visitors' stance was accurately determined. The guard nodded at his orders and casually leaned against the machine gun mounted next to the searchlight forward of the tower.

Dawning slid back down the hill and ran to the front of his Pacer to greet the coming visitors. The wait for them to emerge from around the corner of the slope bought him time to think of possible defensive actions or escapes should they take any hostile action towards them. Being out and exposed out in the open as he was was probably not the wisest idea, but his curiosity got the best of him and so he remained at the front of his technical, just waiting for the vehicles to emerge.

The first to appear was the odd-looking Jeep, which came to a screeching halt mere feet from Dawning's technical. Next was the 2S25, stopping just behind the Jeep, then the Changeling IFVs spreading out in wedge-formation behind the lead vehicles. With the Jeep in better visibility and its blinding headlights now off, he could read a small logo on the hood indicating that it was actually called a "Scrambler". An appropriate name for a fittingly odd vehicle.

The driver door slid open like that of the rear passenger compartment of a van, making way for the driver as he leaped out of the vehicle. Dawning recognized this human man almost immediately.

"First Lieutenant Dawning?" the man called.

Dawning nodded. "Yeah, that's me."

"I'm SIC Skyray of the REDF. Accompanying me is my associate Lieutenant Junkers, also Captain Armor, and Queen Chrysalis of the Changeling Empire."

Shining Armor exited from the rear passenger hatch behind the Scrambler while Junkers exited through the flip-over half of the turret blister above, both as Ray had announced their presence as if on cue. Most unsettling was that last part, just as Chrysalis emerged from the turret hatch of the 2S25.

"There's no cause for alarm," Ray assured as he stepped closer to Dawning, "the details of our mission call for Changeling assistance. We're here about the gang situation you've been reporting to headquarters."

"Ah, I see. It's about time you guys got here. Those colts of broods' are causing all kinds of hell down there."

"What do you mean? What's the situation?"

Dawning gestured for Ray to follow him up the hill that overlooks the sector. He did so, prompting him to continue the conversation. "Oh, first off they tore up the southbound circuit going after the patrols. I saw the whole thing through my 'glasses' here, a real gritty mess. Next we loose contact with Thornes One and Two, then after that we see the rest of the faction moving to the north, leaving behind a good chunk of their manpower behind to guard their captures. We're damn lucky this hillside is here to obscure the third well or we'd be discovered like the rest."

They finally reached the top of the hill with Ray holding his hand out for the binoculars. Dawning handed them to him and he began scanning the sector. He could spot the two other wells in the distance, separated by hills and dunes. The darkened landscape distorted details of the locations, so he could not see the intruders from this distance, but the wells seemed intact. Even the electronic lighting was still active.

"Is that it?" Ray pressed.

Dawning snorted "Good goddess, no. The following night we saw an armored column patrolling the road towards Thorne One, but they got taken out by the gangs before they could reach the well."

"Did they take any prisoners?"

"As I said before to HQ, yes, I think about four or five of them. I think one was a human male. A bit hard to tell from this distance."

Ray lowered the binoculars and turned to him. "Did you see where they took them?"

"Yeah, they went that direction and disappeared behind those hills." He pointed eastward of the sector, towards a formation of hills with a small pathway cutting straight through them.

Ray carefully observed the location for a minute. "Another day, another roll in the dunes."

Cattani's bulky Explosive Ordnance Disposal suit was beginning cause him frustration as it restricted his movements while snout-deep in the convoluted mess of wires and circuits covering the bomb that hung suspended in the dark alleyway. He too was hanging suspended, just above the bomb on a system of harnesses and cables.

He mumbled sarcasm to himself in response to his own frustration. "A hundred dead ends, a thousand booby traps, a million ways to totally fuck up my day..." He accidentally dropped his small LED light on the ground while juggling a pair of pliers and a screwdriver. He finally gave up and turned to the other drones observing him from a safe distance. "I think we oughta approach this a bit differently."

Five minutes later, he was safe on the ground among the other drones, as well as Agusta, arming himself with a 12-gauge shotgun.

Agusta could not silence himself about the situation any longer. "I'm not so sure Chrysalis would be comfortable with you putting yourself on the line like this. There's other qualified personnel."

Cattani shrugged. "Beats sitting around the palace all day reading human literature."

"Alright. But are you sure about what you're doing?"

"Of course." He walked towards the door frame of a rear entrance to one of the buildings. "Zero likelihood of shrapnel at this distance. But as a precaution, the frame and EOD suit should protect from any overpressure."

"Zero?"

He shrugged again. "Just about."

Agusta shook his head. "Just remember the Abrams, Cattani."

"How can I forget, Agusta?" he responded sarcastically. "I'm reminded of it everyday."

"Alright. Your jurisdiction. Your call."

"Damn straight." He cocked his weapon.

Another five minutes later, Agusta and the other observing drones were at a safe distance on a rooftop overlooking the alleyway.

Cattani stuffed a wad of chewing gum in his mouth to ease his nerves as he aimed his weapon at the cylindrical charge hanging in the middle of the alleyway. A part of him nagged at how unprofessional this plan seemed, but another assured that it was the safest alternative to gambling with his life by disarming, picking out the correct circuits and isolating them from the traps. He was at a safe enough distance. With both buildings evacuated and the streets clear, what could go wrong?

Something else nagged at him. He forgot to load a shell into the rifle. With a groan he reached into a pouch on his suit and pulled out a red 12-gauge slug, then proceeded to load it into the chamber.

"Cattani, what's the hold-up?"

He suppressed his annoyance at Agusta's voice on the internal communicator in his suit. "Nothing. Don't rush me."

"Sorry."

Sweat began trickling down his face and his chewing became more vigorous as he took aim again.

Agusta watched carefully through his binoculars, assessing the situation in his mind. He decided to be supportive without being too intrusive and spoke to him with the softest tone possible. "You got this. You own it." The lack of response indicated how deep in the zone he really was.

But something suddenly seemed off about the location Cattani picked out. He knew that what he said about the shrapnel was statistically correct, as well as the overpressure, and that disarming such a complex device would be too time-consuming and left impossible room for error. The Changeling police squads checked the area thoroughly and found no additional devices, eliminating the possibility of a collapsing circuit. So what was wrong with this picture?

Then he noticed a dumpster at an odd angle, just along the building opposite of Cattani's location. His observation led him back to the device: it was also at an odd angle. He assessed the situation even more carefully. Cattani right there with a shotgun... the dumpster right there at an angle... the device pointing that way... He was certain of a relationship between these key details. Shotgun... dumpster... device... the device is pointing at the dumpster...

Cattani lightly squeezed the trigger.

... A rebound. The realization hit him like a golden bullet and suddenly the world blacked out, with only him and the alleyway in a soundless vacuum. "Oh Shit!"

BA-BANG!!!! The device detonated from Cattani's shot, sending a blast of fire down the alley that rebounded off the dumpster and forced him into the metal door beside him in a painfully hard collision.

The split-second action and initial shockwave still processed in Agusta's mind as he watched the large, fiery mushroom cloud rise and dissipate into thick, black smoke. It was an image that burned into his mind like a branding iron as he looked on at the blast-stricken alleyway. He turned to the equally shocked drones around him. "Somebody get an ambulance! Now!"

Agusta's race to the disaster site was an unstoppable journey with any obstacle rendered insignificant. Doors swung open without care and caution tape ripped away while sirens could be heard faintly in the distance. He stopped at what appeared to be Cattani's body, lifeless and slumped in front of the metal door, of which now sported a nasty dent that nearly ripped it away from its hinges, undoubtedly due to the force of his impact upon it.

Agusta coughed and waved away the smoke, slowly removing Cattani's helmet and face armor. He feared for the worst as bruises and blood covered his face, prompting him to check his pulse. "Cattani?"

Movement. Cattani's eyes slowly opened as he regained consciousness. "What happened?" he breathed.

"You sprung a trap, but we'll talk about it later."

Cattani tried to move but was met with intense pain all over his body.

"Don't move, don't move. You'll be fine. Help's on the way."

He looked around for a minute, obviously thinking about something, then rolled his eyes.

"What is it?"

Cattani replied with a sigh. "I swallowed my gum."

A crowd of frightened and curious Changeling residents swarmed the nearby streets, struggling to get at good look at the chaos that had unfolded in the alley. Several officers and soldiers sealed off the intersections with barricades and squad cars to make way for the local fire engines and ambulance rushing to the scene.

One drone in particular looked on with neutral disposition. "It was only a matter of time that your pride became your downfall." He withdrew from the crowd after receiving an odd look from one of the drones and made his way down a nearby alley.

With a green flash, his disguise was wiped away and his build became slightly more lean with a taller stance than how he appeared before. Damn you, Cattani. That blast wasn't meant for you.

Either way it only progressed his plans further. He just needed to get more creative with his true target, and fast.

The smell of burning gasoline and freshly-welded galvanized steel filled the air in Overdog's main garage, where his men tirelessly slaved to maintain their vehicles under a thick curtain of smoke generated by several running engines. The sounds of these metal monstrosities were as piercing to the ears as the flickering florescent lighting above was to the eyes in contrast to the darkness of night outside.

Overdog himself casually strolled through the immense building, overlooking the many tasks at hand. Not one of his men slackened in his presence. He made sure that every one of them understood just how personal the maintenance to their machines were. They were every part of the machine as much as the sand of the outer wastelands were a part of the earth. They were the machines. A physical and psychological singularity.

If a vehicle lay neglected, its owners might as well lay waste with it. To starve it of essential fluids meant starvation of one's self. The discipline in caring for one's machine resided in the discipline in caring for one's self. If one valued their pathetic life, they would surely value their machine. The same applied to their weapons, and not one was without proper cleaning and other maintenance.

He was proud of his army of Zone Ravagers. They were loyal and fierce, merciless in the wastelands and thorough to the benefit of their clan. But as proud as he was, they were nothing without him. Mere scavengers no better than radioactive vultures or insects. He was the key in this clan's very organization. He gave them reason. They were servants to his cause, therefore expendable. No one dared cross his superiority without meeting a terrible fate. They made no mistake, for he was Lord Overdog. Their leader. King. Religion. Life.

McNabb, Overdog's heavyweight muscle, emerged from group gathered around one of the machines and approached him. "My Lord, our first shipment will arrive momentarily."

"Shipment..." Overdog spoke of the word with incredulity as this new method of obtaining their precious fuel had previously been out of their element. Their capture of the wells was indeed a great triumph that would benefit the growth of the clan for ages.

"The oil from the wells." said McNabb, mistaking Overdog's expression for a question of confusion.

"I know!" Overdog barked. "Filled to the spout like I asked?"

"Yes, I made sure of it myself."

"Good. When the trucks arrive I want the tanker adapted to the pumps immediately."

"When do we begin refinement of the crude?"

"Tonight, McNabb. And from this night forth, we will continue to refine our precious fuel until our wells are mined of it." Overdog started towards the loading doors heading outside, with McNabb following behind. "The desert is ours again."

Headlights rose from the dunes ahead, growing brighter as they approached the main gate to the hideout. The gates opened, making way for two large Peterbilt 379 trucks accompanied by several smaller scout vehicles protecting them. One of the trucks carried a long, 10,600-gallon petrol tank trailer behind it, while the other had a standard cargo container for carrying troops and other equipment, sometimes smaller vehicles. The fuel truck headed towards the refinery pumps and the cargo truck followed the rest of the vehicles into the garage.

One of the scouts spotted Overdog and pulled up to him. "Sir!" he shouted.

Overdog stepped closer to his vehicle. "Yes, what is it?"

"My Lord, we spotted another caravan heading this way!"

"Are you sure?"

"Yessir! Coming from the east! And it's bigger than the last one!"

Overdog swiftly turned to McNabb. "Warm up the 'Thunder Dragon' and 'Screaming Minnie', now! And wake my gunners!"

"Yessir, right away!" McNabb sprinted towards the helo pads.

Faust and Silverspade held each other close in a warm embrace as the cool night air washed over them. The moonlight cast slight illumination into the hole, reminding them that the world still existed above them. What was left of it, anyway.

Suddenly nothing mattered to the two lovers but their happiness in that very moment. But then, the world outside came back and so did their troubles. They were prisoners and they were starving. Death...

Faust attempted to re-immerse himself back into the moment and stroked Silver's mane. She was so beautiful in this light, radiant with non-human beauty that he had never known before. She slept soundly on his chest while he lay with his back onto the earth.

The ground began shaking, followed by a familiar sound. Silver awoke to the vibrations, eyeing the sky for the source as Faust did. The sounds and vibrations grew louder until two objects with flashing lights passed over the hole. Undoubtedly the Hind and Dauphin that attacked the column before their imprisonment.

Now what are they after?