Truckstop Takedown

"Hey, you know me, Bob," I said, with a grin. "I do my best."

He chuckled and said, "Yeah, that's what I'm afraid of."

While Rebecca strode over to her bike, I pressed the remote in my jacket pocket as I headed for the Valkyrie. The heavy door swung open with a hiss, and I climbed inside, taking a refreshing lungful of cold, clean air. After the blistering heat and dust outside, it felt wonderful to be able to breathe more easily. I stripped off my long-coat and hat, placing them in the passenger's seat, and settled back in the familiar driver's chair. It was a wonder of ergonomic design, moulding itself to my body, and coloured jet black with a blue trim.

Leaning forward, I placed my right thumb on the dash, and the interior of the Valkyrie came to life. The panels cast a soft blue glow about the interior of the cab, bringing up the local map, and the regulars like top speed, rev counter, fuel tank and cell storage levels. The Valkyrie was a hybrid, with solar panels on the trailer charging the energy cell for normal cruising, and a big tank full of racing fuel for when I needed some extra poke. The tank was looking perilously close to empty, so I was glad I mentioned refuelling it to Rebecca.

I turned to check how she was doing, and when she saw me look her way, she gave me a thumbs up and started the engine on her bike. She turned a tight circle, then disappeared from view, and I gave her a few seconds to get well clear before I started the ignition. There was a bass rumble as the Valkyrie ticked over, before the noise quieted a little as the electrics kicked in. I gave Bob a farewell salute, and he waved me goodbye as I backed out of the garage, and on to the forecourt.

Rebecca was waiting for me, and she pulled away onto the quiet main street, heading west towards the gas station on this side of town. We drove quietly along the streets of Kinsberg, overtaking the occasional car, and a couple of farm trucks dropping off produce at the local supermarket. It was nice to see the place looking so relaxed and sleepy, a place of quiet refuge from the chaos out in the Badlands.

We were quickly approaching the gas station, and I beeped the horn, just to remind Rebecca in case she'd forgotten. She waved back at me, then pulled into the station, skilfully avoiding a bus full of parishioners that lurched out ahead of her. I swung the Valkyrie in at my pump, while she brought her blue and white bike to a stop at one of the regular refuelling points. I pressed the button on the dash that would unseal the tank, then got out, making sure I quickly shut the door behind me to keep the cab cool and fresh.

I walked over to my pump of super-high-octane racing fuel; well, I say mine, but it really belonged to Hank, who ran the gas station. I didn't really imagine there was too much demand for this kind of quality fuel, and I'd never seen anyone else using it. Still, Hank was a nice guy, and kept the pump going for the Valkyrie. I picked up the hose from the pump marked with the distinctive five-star pentagram symbol of "El-Diablo, Hi-Octane", and stuck the nozzle through the hole for the Valkyrie's gas tank.

"Hey, Rebecca," I called over the hood of the Valkyrie, to the girl who was watching me fill up the tank. "Is the bike a hybrid too? Top it off if you want, I'm buying."

She pulled off the black helmet she was wearing, then smiled at me gratefully. I watched her lithely dismount the bike, and reach for the trigger nozzle on the hose, to start filling up the big tank behind the handlebars. With the high-pressure distribution system on the El-Diablo pump, I actually finished topping up the Valkyrie before her, and as I put the hose back I could smell the distinct sweet aroma of high octane fuel. I strode around to go and pay in the shop, smiling at Rebecca as I walked past her bike. The bell gave a jaunty ring as I pushed open the door, and Hank looked up from the back of the store, where he was busy restocking shelves with cans of engine oil.

"Jake! It's great to see you," he exclaimed with delight.

I was going to tip my hat to him, but realised I'd left it in the cab, so I settled for a smile instead. Hank and I were old buddies. We'd gone to school together back in the day, then when I'd returned to Charon IV, I'd helped him settle some awkward business with a local protection racket.

"Can't stop and chat today, Hank," I told him with a regretful smile. "I'm out on the road again."

"You should come by when you can," he said eagerly. "Gloria keeps telling me to invite you over."

I laughed and said, "I still can't believe you landed a woman like that." I leaned in, and asked conspiratorially, "Has the cooking got any better?"

He shook his head, and said with a chuckle, "Nope, I'm still a disaster in the kitchen. Gloria's on the verge of banning me outright."

I reached for my credit stick, and said, "My usual, plus the bike on number three."

Hank looked up in surprise, and glanced over at the pump where Rebecca had just finished filling up. He grinned as he waved at her, and she smiled back, giving him a cheery wave in return.

"You know her?" I asked, startled.

Hank nodded, giving me a funny look for a moment, before his face smoothed out into a warm smile. "Yeah, she stops by for gas every now and then," he replied by way of explanation.

"I still can't believe Jess Beaumont's got a daughter," I said, shaking my head in bewilderment. "She looks just like her, doesn't she?"

"That she does," Hank replied, while nodding sagely, and giving me a sideways look. His eyes darted to the till, and he added, "That'll be four-fifty please, Jake."

I pressed my thumb on the credit stick to check my funds. It confirmed my ID with a soft chime, then displayed in a clear green font, "Available balance: 12345 credits."

Frowning, I was forced to admit Katie was probably right. I was getting a little low on cash, and probably should have accepted that reward money from the folks at Shady Creek. Still, I had enough to keep me going, and seeing the looks of gratitude on their faces had been worth every credit. Swiping the stick across the till, it made a high pitched beep as it subtracted the charge from my account.

"Cheers, Hank," I told him. "Tell Gloria I'll be round as soon as I can."

"Stay safe, Jake," he said to me with a smile, and waved me goodbye.

I strolled out of the store and pressed the button on my remote to open the door to the Valkyrie. "You all good?" I asked Rebecca as I walked briskly past her bike.

She nodded, and said, "Yep, all ready."

"Watch out for my comm broadcast," I called out to her as I climbed into the cab. "We need to sync-up."

I activated the dash with my right thumb, and once the holographic comm interface had appeared, I sent out a point-blank proximity squawk. Rebecca answered it a couple of seconds later, and I locked in her frequency to the comm interface. A close up of her face taken from the cameras in her helmet appeared, floating like a ghostly disembodied head above the dashboard. Fortunately this ghost was pleasant to look at.

"This is Rebecca, checking in," she said, darting a look at the camera with her bright green eyes.

I fired up the engine on the Valkyrie, and smiled at her reassuringly as I said, "This is Jake. Ok, you take point, but you see any sign of danger, pull right back and let me lead."

"Alright, let's roll out," she said to me firmly in a gruff faux-baritone.

I laughed, and said, "That's my line isn't it?"

She winked, and revved up the bike, pulling away quick and smooth. Still chuckling to myself, I powered up the Valkyrie to the accompanying bass rumble of the massive engine, then eased my foot down on the accelerator, and left the forecourt.

It didn't take us long to leave town, as we were already near the outskirts. We had a brief drive through the small stretch of suburbs first, passing well cared for homes, complete with picket fences. I'd always aspired to live in one of these nice, residential, five bedroom houses as a kid, having grown up out in the sticks. Still, if I hadn't been so bored out on the farm, I never would have taken to helping my Uncle Lenny turn that old pickup truck into a hot-rod. When he'd been killed by raiders, I found out he'd left the pick-up to me, and the rest was history.

Rebecca took the turn for Route Forty-Three, and I followed after her, keeping pace with her bike. The double lane highway was pretty clear at this time of day, and I put my foot down, pushing up to sixty, and drawing alongside her. She flashed a grin at me and opened up the throttle on her bike, racing away and leaving me in her dust. I was in half a mind to show her what the Valkyrie could do, but I quickly remembered I had the trailer on the back, with Katie sequestered inside. She was already in a bad enough mood with me already, and I decided quite wisely not to push my luck.

The bike was a small speck in the distance, but it got gradually larger as Rebecca dawdled along, letting me catch up. Her holograph was smiling at me smugly, but as she crested a hill, her expression changed abruptly, her eyes widening in alarm.

"What is it?" I asked her brusquely. "Get back here if there's any trouble."

"Raiders," she explained, glancing up at the camera. "They hit some convoy, but looks like they're long gone."

As I drove up the hill, I could see wispy trails of grey smoke marring the otherwise beautiful blue sky. Then when I reached the peak, and looked out into the valley beyond, I saw what had panicked Rebecca. She was right, a convoy had been hit by raiders, and it was the work of a well armed group judging by the devastation on the road ahead. They'd wrecked the mercs on escort duty first, then started picking off the civilians in the convoy. A few of them had been destroyed, but there was a cluster of vehicles a few miles up ahead, where the raiders had run the remnants of the convoy off the road.

Rebecca had stopped up ahead, and as I overtook her, I said to my lovely companion, "Let me take point, there might be an ambush set for anyone looking for survivors."

She nodded obediently, starting up the bike, and following after me, and I drove closer to the forlorn looking convoy. Half the vehicles sported weapon damage of some kind or the other, and one large freight-hauler had been set on fire, leaving it a burned-out charred ruin. As we approached, I started to see what looked like bodies strewn around, and I clenched my teeth in anger.

Pulling up a safe distance from the wrecks, I carefully opened the door to the Valkyrie, keeping my eyes peeled for an ambush. I thought about asking Katie to come, but it made more sense for her to stay back at the trailer. At least that's what I told myself, and it definitely wasn't because I was trying to avoid antagonising her at the moment. The last thing I needed was to have to deal with her legendary temper right now.

Rebecca jogged up to my side, carrying a ferocious looking sub-machine gun. She certainly looked like she knew how to use it, holding it with practiced familiarity.

"Take cover if you see anything suspicious," I told her, taking a cautionary tone.

She gave me a brave smile, but I could tell she was nervous, as she replied, "I'll just follow your lead."

I walked ahead carefully, eyes darting from side-to-side, watching for the slightest hint of movement. It was still breezy out here on the plains, and a tumbleweed rolled past, drawing my eyes with its haphazard motion, a slave to the whim of the wind. Other than that, and the occasional flap of a curtain in a shot-up mobile home, the convoy was quiet as the grave.

One look was all it took to confirm that I'd been right with my first glance. There were bodies strewn about, most of which had been shot, but a few had met far grimmer ends. The corpses were of men, children and the elderly, which left one group conspicuously absent. I spotted drag marks in the dirt leading over to a small mound, and I felt a leaden feeling in my chest as I walked in that direction.

Turning to look at Rebecca, I asked, "Can you take a quick look around the vehicles, just to check there aren't any survivors hiding inside?"

She looked up at me, eyes-wide, and nodded slowly, before turning and making her way over to one of the nearby trucks. I watched to make sure she was safe, then continued following the trail over the mound. It led to a gulley on the other side, where I found the missing group from the convoy, the women. I felt bile rising in my throat, and looked away quickly, thankful that I'd sent Rebecca off to the trucks so she hadn't seen this. Squaring my shoulders, I turned on my heel, and walked back towards the wrecked vehicles.

We searched for survivors, calling out as well in case anyone had managed to run into the scrubland beyond and hide. Only the whistling wind answered our cries, and after fifteen minutes of searching, I knew it was hopeless. We walked back to our vehicles in silence, subdued by what we'd seen, and I could see how worried Rebecca was, when she stopped and glanced back at the ravaged convoy.

Reaching out, I placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, and said firmly, "Don't worry. I'll make them pay for what they did here."

She turned to look up at me, then surprised me as she stepped in for a hug. I stroked her back soothingly as she trembled in my arms, and asked, "How could anyone do something like that?"

"Some people just turn out wrong," I answered her awkwardly. "Then they head out to the Badlands, and that makes them ten times worse. There's no reasoning with monsters like that, they just do whatever they're strong enough to get away with. You just have to make sure you're strong enough to stop them."

She stared up into my eyes, and asked, "Is that why you do what you do? Because you're strong enough to stop them?"

I lost focus on Rebecca as there was a flash of red, followed by horrific screams and dreadful wailing that sent shivers down my spine. I shook my head quickly, to clear away the disturbing visions.

"Yeah, that's right," I lied convincingly, hating myself for doing it, but not wanting to see a look of recrimination in those lovely green eyes.

She nodded, letting out a heavy sigh, and said, "We better get back to my Mom."

I released her from my arms, and watched her walk to the bike, mounting it gracefully and starting the engine. Opening up the door to the Valkyrie, the glossy red "17" caught the bright sunlight, making me blink for a moment as it dazzled my eyes. I stepped inside the cab, and swung the door shut behind me with a solid clunk. Firing up the dash, I brought up the comm interface again, seeing Rebecca's pretty face appear in a hologram.

"Let's get moving," I told her gently. "I'll reach out to Sheriff Winters, and let him know what happened."

Rebecca nodded, then eased ahead on her bike, but I noticed she was careful not to get too far ahead this time. I cycled through the list of local contacts until I found the comm channel for the Sherriff's station, and swiped across the name to make the call. It rang unanswered for a couple of minutes, which left me with a dark sense of foreboding.

"We should check in at the Sheriff's Station," I said to Rebecca, trying to conceal my worry. "They're not responding at the moment, so they might have a busted transmitter. I keep telling Geoff to just buy a new one."

"I'll call Mom, and let her know we're nearly home, just taking a slight detour," she replied, and I could tell by her sombre expression that she hadn't believed my lame reassurances.

Rebecca's holo-image above the dashboard winked out while she made her call, and I pulled up alongside her while she was distracted. The road ran ahead in a long straight line, with sparse dry plains to either side, stretching away for miles. It was desolate terrain, and a large swathe of Charon IV's single huge continent was like this, populated with wild and dangerous frontier towns. If you had decent irrigation systems, these dusty plains could be turned into well cultivated fields, as was the case in the more civilised south. The opposite end of the spectrum was the horrible wasteland to the north, known locally as "The Badlands."

Charon IV was located near the border with Trankaran Space, and had been partially terraformed by the Terran Federation. Unfortunately, funding had run out when the Terrans had desperately fought off a Kirrix invasion, leaving Charon IV half-finished. When it became obvious no further funding was going to be forthcoming, the settlers had moved in, taking advantage of the low cost of land on this less than hospitable planet.

"I told her we'll be a couple of hours at most," Rebecca said, her holographic image reappearing above the dashboard, and shaking me from my reverie.

I nodded, saying amiably, "Yeah, we won't be too long. We'll just check in with the Sheriff first."

We rolled on up Route Forty Three, until the big green sign informing us to take the next turn for Drift City, came quickly into view. I glanced at Rebecca's hologram and she met my gaze, saying agreeably, "Yeah I know, take the turn. Sheriff's Station is ten miles down on the left."

We slowed down to take the turn, and joined Route Thirty Nine, heading towards the biggest town in the district. Despite its name, Drift City couldn't really be described as a major metropolis. The town was nice, definitely an up and coming place, but the population only numbered in the low thousands. Still, the Sheriff's Station was just outside the suburbs, which helped keep the crime rate down, and that was always good for business.

Cruising along the dust beaten tarmac, we quickly chewed up the miles, heading up to the valley that cradled the fast-growing town. A thick column of greasy black smoke came into view some distance off to the left, and Rebecca shot me a worried look.

"Yeah, that's coming from the Sheriff's Station," I confirmed for her grimly. "Hang back, and let me take point. If things get really nasty, you high-tail it out of here, and get back to your Mom."

She gave me a quick nod, easing back on the throttle and tucking in behind me as I rumbled onwards. I pressed a button on the dash, bringing up the tactical grid and HUD on the windscreen. Bob had done me proud, fully restocking the Vulcans, and the ammo counters for both read "1000 AP - 20mm caseless." Yeah, it was overkill for pretty much everything I'd encountered here on Charon IV, but no-one ever accused me of being subtle.

The turn for the Sheriff's Station was clearly marked with a big sign declaring in clear yellow lettering, "Patoma District, Sheriff Station." However, the black scorpion tail that someone had graffitied over it, along with the bullet holes punched through the sign, left little doubt as to why my call had remained unanswered.

We passed two wrecked police cruisers as we approached, hit by a broad mix of rounds that had chewed through their relatively light armour plating. To my expert eye, the telltale holes from fifty calibre machine guns were a dead giveaway, as well as hits from something nasty, perhaps an Autocannon.

The Sheriff's station soon came into view after we'd driven a half-mile down the road, and we braked sharply, coming to a halt. The oily smoke was billowing up from the back of the walled compound, probably from their generator, and the sturdy gates had been blown clean off their hinges. White stucco reinforced walls surrounded the Sheriff's station, and although they were weather beaten, they were normally kept scrubbed spotlessly clean by the deputies. Now they were adorned with blackened and scorched bodies, which had been nailed to the wall, then incinerated with a flame thrower.

"Those poor bastards," I muttered under my breath, recognising the remains of the brown and grey deputy uniforms on the corpses.