The Deviant Future

Chapter 3

The bright sun in the sky did them no favors. It pounded the hard-packed dirt, the heat baking it into a solid clay while illuminating every shadow. It made it harder to hide, yet Axel would deal with it because it would lull those watching into thinking nothing could possibly be concealed out here.

They'd be wrong.

Body flat to the ground, his bulk covered in a netting meant to camouflage, he watched the road, little more than a rutted dirt track. So long as he didn't move, the drones flying zigzag ahead of the truck would never notice him. The patience required didn't come easily.

He would have wagered - and probably won - that, across from him, Gunner fought to not fidget. The man hated being still. Called it pretending to be a corpse, which went against his motto of living life to the fullest.

Speaking of living, how many times would Axel wager his life? He'd been lucky with his raids thus far. It would eventually run out. Especially as he got more and more brazen. Attacking this close to a dome could be dangerous.

The guards had no sympathy for what they called the Wasteland Rats. An apt name, given that, like the hardy rodents, Axel and his crew knew how to survive. How to scrounge. Eke out an existence. And hide.

He and his ilk long ago had learned how to scurry and became friends with the darkness. The art of stillness to blind their enemies. The lessons that said strike without mercy. Compassion could get a rat killed.

He cast out with his other sense, the kernel within that barely reacted out on the barren plains. It preferred the shade of looming trees where things could go.

Farther up the road, the twins, Casey and Camden - although he preferred Cam for short - waited for their turn. They'd proven to be steady companions when it came to missions such as this one.

Like many of the rats, the twins were Wasteland smart but not born. About twenty years ago they were discovered in the Wasteland, a pair children abandoned, injured, half starving, but alive. No one knew where they'd come from. How they'd managed to survive the Wasteland. Given the haunted look in their eyes, no one ever pried.

Casey and Cam had the most important and dangerous part to play, the triggering of the trap and the removal of the drones.

Couldn't have any eyes in the sky recording what happened and relaying it. As it was, single vehicle supply trucks between the domes were becoming rarer. Most had begun hiring mercenaries to accompany them, making the acquisition of goods more dangerous.

Good thing he liked a challenge.

The truck rumbled, the noise rising in the distance, as did belching smoke. One of the rare fuel engines, more powerful than the electric ones.

The vehicle spewed noise and evidence of its passing unlike the drones. The sleek aerial machines glided ahead of the truck and its cloud of dust.

No eyes could be seen on the devices, yet Axel knew they existed. Lenses recording everything they saw. Did they see him and his crew waiting? He was tempted to give them the finger.

Not yet.

Patience.

Out here in the flatlands, camouflaging body temperature proved easy. The sun beat down hard even through the dusty haze in the sky, making everything boil. But it wasn't heat that would give them away. Motion was more dangerous.

The moving shadows of the drones approached. He could see them on the ground, black mobile smudges. He peeked through the netting. They zipped and swerved ahead of the truck, kept aloft by whirring blades. If they saw anything, a signal would be sent and the truck would stop, immediately going into lockdown mode until the threat was handled. Also known as kill the rats.

It was too hot a day to die.

He and Gunner just had to remain still until the drones swept past. Their task in this operation revolved around the truck. Each of them would play their predetermined role.

. . .Eight. Nine. Ten. Axel counted after the drone swept past and knew Gunner did as well. They were probably safe from detection, but they still waited a tad longer as the armored vehicle rumbled into view, the hood boasting a machine gun, the entire body covered in bulletproof shielding. Even the clear windshield used a material that wouldn't crack without effort.

But they didn't want to destroy the truck. They wanted to steal it.

Usually Axel and his crew didn't bother with the ones coming from the Creche. Those going in had better goods. However, they'd gotten a tip. Something secret and valuable was being smuggled out. Important enough that the single truck had made a run for it rather than wait for an escort.

The vehicle came level with Axel, and he finally sprang from the netting. He threw himself at the door of the truck and clung to the handle, his boots magnetized to stick to the running board. The helmeted driver didn't even turn to look.

Axel hadn't given him reason to worry. Yet.

The truck increased its the speed, sending it jostling over the uneven terrain. In between the domes, the attempt at real roads never lasted. Nature fought back against those who thought to make a permanent mark. Just look at how well it had buried the last generation that thought it would master it. Old Earth had only a few crumbled remains left to show it once existed.

Axel held on with one hand and pulled his wand torch from a coat pocket with the other. The heated white blade emerged at the press of a button, immediately sucking at the power. His body jolted with each bump of the dirt path, jarring his teeth and his aim. He had to work fast.

As he sliced through the mechanism holding the door shut, it shifted. The weight of it dragged, and he released the handle, leaning away, trusting his boots to hold him in place. For a moment, gravity sucked at him and he wondered if he'd fall.

The door tore free, and he righted himself, reaching for the driver who happened to be armed. Not really a surprise. Only idiots traveled the Wasteland without protection.

The gun fired just as a large bounce sent the truck soaring, throwing off the driver's aim. Before he could sight again, Axel dove for the gun, wrapping his hands around it. It went off, the bullet embedding itself in the windshield. There was a similar struggle on the passenger side as Gunner wrestled with someone in another metal suit.

Damn those things. They protected all too well and made their wearers stronger. So long as they had power.

Axel let go of the gun hand to rummage quickly on his bandolier, snaring a fat disc. He slapped it against the driver's suit and then activated it.

The EMP zap went through them both, but all he lost was his boots' grip. The guy in the suit became an unmoving metal statue. Axel climbed over him, all too aware of the heavy foot leaning on the speed pedal. He grunted as he shoved at the suit until it tumbled out the side, falling out of the truck and landing on the ground in a rolling tumble he didn't watch because he slid into the driver seat. Hands on the steering wheel, he jammed his feet at the pedals and brought the truck to a stop. Rather than pause and take a breath, he leaped out, running for the guard on the ground. The EMP wouldn't last long. Already the suit was probably rebooting.

As he arrived, the driver began to twitch. A hand lifted, fingers bending. Axel pulled the gun from the holster at his back, the barrel short, but wide and powerful. The hole he blasted in the driver's chest stopped it from rising.

He quickly turned and saw Gunner kicking another prone suit. "Ow. Ow. f*****g Ow."

"Are you okay?" he yelled as he jogged toward him.

"My luck must be off today. Fucker bagged me on the way down."

A sympathy wince was in order. "Ouch. Where's Casey and Cam?"

It took a second rotation before he saw them trudging back over a hillock. The twins each dangled a drone over their shoulder.

That would buy them time before someone came looking, but not long. The vehicle was probably scheduled to call in when it reached the next interference free spot, about an hour's drive from here.

"Any problems?" Axel asked as the twins neared.

"As if," snorted Casey. "Although dumbass here put his knife through the belly of his drone rather than take out the propellers."

"I missed because you tripped me," grumbled Cam.

"Of course I did." Said by his sister with a roll of her eyes, the jesting a usual thing for them.

"Let's disable the tracking unit and get moving," Axel said.

While Casey and Cam took care of the truck, he returned to the body of the guard he'd downed and retrieved his EMP disk. He'd have to get it recharged. He then stripped the body of anything useable, removing its armor and ignoring the face of the young man inside the helm.

In the Wastelands, those who exhibited too much sympathy had only their bleached bones to show for it. Kill or be killed, the only mantra anyone in the Wastelands truly abided by.

A whirring noise signaled Cam's arrival with their heat-fueled buggy, the panels on its sides used to absorb and reuse the energy potential.

Rather than play with the lock on the truck for the cargo hold, Axel tossed the gear he'd stripped into the back of the buggy. The stuff Gunner recovered thumped down on top of it.

"How long until we move out?" he shouted to Casey, who had her head stuck under the hood of the truck, which remained rumbling.

"As long as it takes," she snapped.

Which meant not long. He slapped Gunner on the back. "Good job. Head back home with Cam. I'll bring Casey soon as she's done."

The twins didn't often split up, but of late, Axel had been trying. Mostly because of something Casey said after spurning yet another suitor.

He'd asked, "What's wrong with Javier?"

And she'd replied. "It's not him but Cam. He needs me as a keeper."

Or did she use her brother as a buffer?

Whatever the reason, Axel was trying to give them each some space, which meant Cam sped off with Gunner and he headed back for the truck. Casey still grumbled under the hood, so he detoured for the back and eyed the doors. What treasure hid inside?

Perhaps not a great one, given it had only two guards and a pair of drones. Then again, what better way to sneak something through than make it appear unworthy of attention?

He climbed into the cab of the truck and searched the barren interior. Nothing inside except for a radio. Doubtful they'd gotten a message off. This deep into the Wasteland, signals had a tendency of failing.

The hood slammed shut, and Casey, still standing on the bumper, slapped it. "Tracker disabled." She held up a hunk of plastic before tossing it.

A moment later, she swung herself into the passenger seat. The engine rumbled to life, vibrating the seat under his ass.

"Ready?"

"Did you seriously ask me that?" Casey groaned. "Just try and not dump me out, would you? I'm going to take a nap."

And she did. Slouched in the seat, eyes shut.

Might as well let one of them rest because it took hours of backtracking and laying false trails before he finally made it home.

Home being a misnomer.

Axel and his crew lived in a glorified cave. A big cave, he should add. A former building, long and narrow, buried by the grit outside and barely forming a hump that didn't look any different than the other humps in the area.

Exploration showed some used to be buildings that caved in. One had become a dangerous cesspool of snakes that enjoyed flesh. Another had a pit in it from which a strange chill emanated.

Theirs was the only one that sported a working pair of rusted doors, hidden behind camouflage netting, which parted as he neared. He flashed his lights in the right sequence, the signal to let him in.

Three quick flicks. Two long. Then four quick flicks. The code of the week. It would change in two days to ensure the wrong sorts didn't get unfettered access.

The opening proved wide enough for him to drive in, the change from waning afternoon sunshine to almost dusk jarring. But even worse was when they shut the door and he was surrounded by concrete and metal, his connection to the land muffled. He felt constrained already, and he'd not even gotten out of the truck.

He tugged the tinted goggles free from his face, having forgotten he even wore them. Just second nature the moment he stepped out of Hill Haven. The stupid name someone gave this place when they'd discovered it a few years ago.

Not quite a hill and he'd never intended for it to become a haven. Never expected he'd end up with a motley crew to follow him either. But beggars didn't get to choose. They took what they could get. And then stole what they couldn't.

He shut off the engine as Casey swung out of the truck parked beside the buggy. The stuff in the back had already been removed, the buggy prepped for its next run. Survival meant always being ready.

Casey headed away from the parking area, whereas Cam emerged from nowhere and trailed her. Gunner was nowhere to be seen as Axel dropped to the dusty floor.

"Just in time for dinner," Benny, the cook, announced as he wandered into the parking area of the shelter, his rotund frame leading the way. Shy of six feet, the top of his head bald but his beard lush, he wore an apron over his clothes.

"When isn't it dinner for you?" snickered Vera, who stood guard by the doors.

Axel shot her a sharp look. "Mind your manners or you know what he'll do."

The last time Benny went on strike in the kitchen, everyone lost a few pounds. There was a gift to making the food scavenged from the Wasteland edible.

The rolling doors sealed them off from the world outside, and he knew the netting would already be in place. With each home he'd lost, he'd learned to better protect. Two years and counting for this one. It wouldn't be long before they had to relocate.

Benny indicated the truck. "Think they'll have any heat-collecting panels in there? We could use a few to replace the worn ones we've got."

"My sources say there should be a few panels being sent in for rehab but still usable. Plus two new ones that accidentally got returned."

"How much longer is Anya going to work for us within the Creche?" Benny asked.

"Not much longer." Someone on the inside sympathetic to their cause wouldn't fare well if caught. "Where's Zara? The truck is going to need a new pair of doors. Possibly even a hatch if we can't bust the lock on the back cleanly."

Benny rolled his shoulders. "Who knows where she's gone now. That woman doesn't tell anyone anything."

"Did you ask?" Axel said, refraining from uttering a sigh. When had he become surrounded by so many personalities? He had preferred it when he was alone. Then he'd started running into strays who wouldn't leave. Some even dared to commit the crime of respecting him. He must be getting old because he didn't kill them for it.

"Zara's gone to Oliander for some medicine," Vera offered, wandering over from her post.

He frowned. "Headaches again?"

She nodded.

"Someone needs to check the ventilation system. This is the third person this week complaining." Axel turned to Benny. "Is the maintenance team back from the river yet?"

Something was impeding their water flow into Hill Haven, meaning he got to hear whining about the pressure. The maintenance team had gone to check the pipe. He hoped they could fix it, given how they'd struggled to get running water to Haven in the first place.

Benny shook his head. "Not a word, and they're past due."

"Fuck." Axel scrubbed a hand through his hair. That didn't bode well. "Who do we have in Haven right now that can pop out for a scout?" Because if the maintenance bunch, led by Darren, ran into trouble they couldn't handle, then they needed a subtle tracker to find out what had happened and report back before anyone else encountered the same issue.

"Xyle and Polly went to the Wasteland Bazaar to score some supplies. Domi is off visiting his family in the Southern Crack."

"I don't suppose anyone's heard from Titan?"

Benny shook his head. "Not since he left on your last mission."

Titan hadn't been the same since the accident and the repair to his flesh with metal limbs. Zara declared him a medical miracle. A pity Titan didn't feel the same way. He'd left with only a note that said, Don't worry.

"Send Gunner to figure out what happened to the maintenance crew. We'll have Cam and Casey check on the ventilation shafts and filters."

Management. The bane of his existence.

"What of my replacement so I can get some leave?" Vera earned a glare with her request.

"You know we're short on people."

Not entirely true. Almost forty people now lived in Hill Haven, but most weren't actually fighters. Many would call him weak for taking in Old Gordie. The man was ancient and blind but smart. So smart. Then there was Missy and her little girl, with another on the way. She'd left a food production dome when she realized the mandatory birth control failed rather than have her babies taken from her. What about Leroy, who could only move about in the dark because for some reason the light hurt him? Misfits and survivors, they seemed drawn to Axel, and he, in turn, felt obligated to help them.

A fine mess.

"You're scowling again," Vera remarked. "You'll never catch a woman that way."

"I don't want a woman."

"Then you'd better be switching hands often if you don't want to end up lopsided," Gunner offered as he suddenly popped up out of nowhere. "And she is right. You scowl all the time now."

"Maybe because that's how I'm supposed to look," Axel retorted.

"Constipated?" Gunner suggested. "You should try eating more fiber."

"You should try not talking so I'm not tempted to kill you." The low muttered threat brought a grin to Gunner's lips. The man was always in a good mood.

That made one of them at least.

"Leave the man alone. If he's grumpy, it's because he's hungry. Come and eat," Benny stated before leading the way to the kitchen.

"I need to - " Axel glanced at the truck. What did it matter if it waited a while longer to be cracked open? "What's for dinner?"

"Stew."

"What kind of stew?"

The grin Benny tossed over his shoulder proved less than reassuring. The mystery meat did, however, taste pretty good. Even better, it didn't cause any cramping. Always a bonus.

He didn't return to the truck after dinner, as a fight broke out amongst some of his people. Two women scrapping it out over a man.

Who then took offense when the women ended up going off together.

The privacy in Hill Haven was lacking. Too few rooms to share and the strung-up tarps not enough to give anyone real space. What started out as a safe bunker became cramped as the numbers swelled. It meant the search for a new home needed to hurry the f**k up before the place imploded. Not to mention, this many people moving in and out was bound to get noticed eventually by the Enclave patrols.

Just more s**t to deal with.

It was late by the time Axel carried a cutting torch to the back of the truck. No fancy electronic locks for it. Not when they were so easily zapped. Nor could he simply use a bolt cutter. The embedded industrial lock required a bit more effort.

The cutting torch took its time melting through the mechanism. It eventually popped, and he wrenched it free with a squeal of metal that made him wince. Not that Hill Haven was quiet even at night. There was always a buzz of sound.

Grabbing hold of the handle to roll up the door, he paused. "Vera, can you come here for a minute?"

"Sure." She knew what he wanted and held her weapon trained on the back of the truck. Just in case.

With a grip on the metal handle, Axel heaved, and the door rolled upwards with a ratcheting sound. There was a moment of silence as they beheld the interior.

More specifically, the woman standing there in a white gown, hair pulled taut with chunks of it escaping in wild wisps. Her eyes wide. Mouth gaping.

A woman who shouldn't have been inside the truck at all.

"Who are you?" he barked, his senses flaring at the sudden vibration in the air between them that disappeared the moment she fainted.