Davis Aurini - As I Walk These Broken Roads

“Ya know, Vince,” said Billy, the one with the green mohawk, “The way you’ve been talking about this Landfall Ale, if Verizon here ain’t shooting rainbows out his ass after the first pitcher then I’m going to be disappointed.”

Before Vince reply Verizon shouted, “‘Shooting rainbows out of my ass with your mother! On her trampoline! Oh! ”

Without delay Billy began cussing out a rebuttal. Verizon had been repeating variations of the ‘mother on her trampoline’ line throughout the trip, but as to where he’d got it, Vince couldn’t say. The lad was dressed in a sleeveless biker jacket and aviators, and had taken up the role of resident smartass for the trip. His wisecracks helped pass the time.

But despite the laughter an undercurrent of irritation had entered the boys’ banter. They’d been on the road for two days already, and were all looking forward to getting away from the dust and the sun. Vince could already make out a line of smoke rising from the hamlet’s coal flue, and the growing sense of relief was palpable. There wasn’t much further to go, and the land on either side was flat and treeless, posing little threat of banditry. Soon enough another trip would be safely through and over with.

They’d been driving in silence, just watching the road disappear, when Raxx spoke up. “You like driving too, eh?”

“Yeah,” said Wentworth, “When you’re moving you leave your worries behind. There’s nothing you can do about anything, and no rules; it’s as close as a man gets to freedom.”

“Yeah, I hear you; just you, your skills, and the road.”

Several minutes passed before either of them spoke. “Pull over just after this hill. My bike’s in a gully here.”

Raxx eased onto the shoulder and shut off the engine. They stepped out, weapons in hand. Wentworth was wearing his jacket and helmet, and Raxx, before leaving, had donned a pair of old football pads reinforced with boiled leather and metal plates. He still had his revolver on his hip, but now he carried his shotgun as well.

“I know you said that this area’s pretty quiet and there’s not much banditry, but I’d like to scout things out before you give my bike a look-over. We made a lot of noise arriving just now, and if there’s anyone here they’ll find us pretty quick. That hill over there is the highest around, and it’s got plenty of cover. That’s part of the reason I left my bike here, yesterday.”

“Makes sense,” said Raxx, “You seem to know what you’re doing so I’ll just follow your lead.”

Wentworth replied with a silent nod. He’d been scanning the area for anything that didn’t fit, and though everything looked normal, he remained vigilant. He slid into the gully, and started off towards the hill. Raxx followed. It was fifty meters distant, but rather than walk directly to it he followed the contours of the land, so that by the time they reached it they were traveling almost parallel to the road. Once they started climbing Raxx understood the reason for their detour. The path they were taking had more brush on either side, the kind of stuff that would provide cover, while posing little impediment to their own observations. He tried to mimic Wentworth’s cautious prowl.

As they neared the top Wentworth hunched over so that his torso was horizontal, and continued at a slower pace, stepping carefully so as to avoid unnecessary noise. Raxx imitated, and soon they were both crawling.

Once they got to a good vantage point Wentworth motioned for Raxx to come closer. He said in a hushed tone, “Do you have binoculars or anything?”

“Yeah,” said Raxx. He pulled out a pair of plastic binos out of his tool pouch. He’d coloured them black with a marker long ago. Wentworth nodded. ”Don’t use them unless you see something suspicious. The glare from them could be noticed.” He indicated that Raxx should take the south-west arc, then positioned himself towards the north-east. They both shuffled to their positions, and started scanning the horizon.

Five minutes later Raxx felt a kick on his boot. He looked behind him to see Wentworth looking back at him. The man nodded and they both started crawling back the way they’d come. Once they reached the bottom of the hill Raxx whispered, “Is it okay to talk now?”

“Yeah. I didn’t see anything. I take it you didn’t either?”

“Nothing.”

Wentworth nodded, “You might think I’m being paranoid, but I’d feel pretty stupid if I died in some sort of fuck-off way.”

“No worries. I would too. You take this shit pretty seriously, don’t you? I mean,” he hefted his shotgun, “I know how to use this thing, but that crawling around — I noticed how you were using the land to hide us. I never thought of that before. Makes sense though.”

Wentworth shrugged, “Thanks.”

“So where’s this bike of yours? I was kind of looking for it while we were up there, but I couldn’t spot it.”

“It’s right there.” Raxx looked where Wentworth had indicated but didn’t see anything but the wooded valley south of the highway. All of a sudden his eyes went buggy. He blinked, and realized he’d been staring directly at a camouflage net some twenty meters off the road. “Holy shit. Nice. Your bike is under the cloth there?”

“Yeah, that’s her.”

“Alright, let’s give her a look.”

They walked over to the bike. Wentworth kept hold of his rifle, as Raxx slung his shotgun across his back and picked up a toolbox from the bed of his truck. They reached the bike and removed the cam net. The bike was a cruiser, built for long distance riding and heavy loads. Leather saddle bags were mounted on the back, and the body was a metallic grey, non-reflective. It was rust free and appeared in good working order, aside from the broken transmission chain. Raxx knelt by the side of the bike and pulled out a device to measure it.

“Good news, you had the right grade. I’m just going to check a few other things.” His excitement was palpable. He went over the bike, opening panels and examining the components, identifying the different mechanisms while measuring to check whether he’d have the right tools. He wanted to pull apart the engine right there, to figure it out, but managed to reign in his enthusiasm. “I don’t think this’ll be a problem… should have everything I need… alright! Let’s get her on the truck.”

Wentworth put away the cam net, and walked the bike over while Raxx pulled a wooden plank out of the truck bed to use as a ramp. Together they hauled the bike up the ramp, and secured it with chains.

“Augh!”

“You got her?”

“‘Kay, steady now!”

“Stop-stop-stop — Okay!”

“Try moving that board…”

“Is she tight?”

“I got this end.”

“Holy shit, you’re one heavy slut…”

“The back’ll go up?”

“Yeah, jump down, she’s good…”

As they got into the cab Wentworth panted, “Maybe the mule would’ve been easier…”

The only thing marring Raxx’s manic grin was his own shortness of breath. “It’s starting to feel a lot like work, isn’t it?”

Vince rode the wagon into town, heading towards the market. As he rode he waved to locals. This was his second trip here since the thaw, and being one of the only strangers who visited, he was well known.

Behind him Billy and Verizon were unloading and clearing their weapons. The rifles wouldn’t be necessary in a quiet town like Blackstock.

“Hey, Billy,” said Verizon, “how about that sheep over there? Is she more your type?”

“Fuck you, Verizon. From now on it’s William Buckley to you.”

“What’s that — ‘Prince Billington’ you say?”