As I Walk These Broken Roads (21 page)

Tyler twisted around to lo
ok back.
“
No. . . I don
’
t think
so. I don
’
t know what
’
s up there, never seen nobody head there.
”

“
Hmm,
”
thought Raxx. The hill in question overlooked the settlement; its peak was only a couple hundred meters away.
“
Let me guess – you wanna scout this bunch out, too?
”

Wentworth nodded slowly.
“
You got it. Now listen, Tyler, I got some more questions for you…
”

They spent the next twenty minutes interrogating the youth. He
’
d been witness to the exact sort of events they wanted to know about, but he lacked the education
in battle
needed to explain them. It had all blurred in his memory, and asking him about the raider
’
s tactics proved to be even less fruitful than asking what sort of
‘
carriages
’
they
’
d used. Their questioning slowed to a trickle,
then
stopped.

They sent him on his way, with a couple of cigarettes for the road. He vanished into the fields on the right.
“
Hey, kid!
”
called out Raxx, as a thought
occurred
. After a moment Tyler reappeared between the stalks.
“
We
’
re gonna do what we can – it
’
s a good thing you snuck in here. Good on
‘
ya for having the guts to talk with us!
”
Tyler waved at them, and ran off. From the expression on his face, he felt relieved at getting away from the strangers; he
’
d done what he had to, and now he wanted to go home.

Wentworth glanced at him, and Raxx responded with a shrug.
“
He kind
of
reminds me of me at that age.
”

Wentworth drummed his fingers for moment, then scowled.
“
Damnit,
”
he said,
“
I forgot to ask him what
‘
sodomite
’
means.
”

The house on the hilltop had been built as a cottage for two. Nestled into the earth, its third story rose up to crown the peak. A long driveway came up from the road, ending in a tiled culvert surrounded by flower beds. To the right was the house
’
s two-car garage, on the left a stone wall held back the hill
’
s bow; where stone and brick met, a flight of stairs rose up to the main entrance. The bedroom had face
d east to greet the rising sun.

But the exposure had come at a cost; decades of wind and rain had worn on the structure, greying its red bricks and yellowing its timbers. It had faded slowly, showing more wear each year, until the day it collapsed. By the time the two men arrived it
slouched
along th
e same curve as it
s neighbouring
slope.

Wentworth dipped his finger into his stew to check the temperature. Satisfied, he picked up the canteen cup and crushed the burning fuel-tab under his boot. He pulled out a spoon and returned his gaze to the Mennite settlement. He was sitting on a stray log, hidden behind some bracken. His helmet and rifle lay by his side. Behind and below was Raxx, working on the truck.

The hill top was steep enough for him
to see most of the main s
treet, and the highway stretching beyond it. Between him and the Mennites was a ragged forest which ran down to a swampy valley; the chances of the locals noticing him were slim, and by the time evening arrived he
’
d be invisible. He hoped to find out what sort of force they
’
d dealing with, but that information wouldn
’
t be enough on its own – they
’
d need to capitalize on it.

“
Intelligence,
”
he
’
d said,
“
is a time-sensitive commodity.
”

“
A what?
”

He lowered his binoculars, and continued to scan the western arc.
“
What we see today might not have any bearing tomorrow. And next week it
’
ll be even worse.
”

“
Okay.
”

He mulled over the landscape,
“
Say… how good of a driver are you?
”

“
What, with my girl there?
”
Raxx shrugged and scratched his nose.
“
Pretty good. I take it easy most of the time, but… well, you saw me driving angry back there. I know how to handle these roads.
”

“
Yeah… okay then, this path here,
”
it wound down the hill in front of them, passing half a kilometre behind the Mennite settlement. It was barely visible, nothing but two grooves in the tall grasses.
“
You think you could drive it in the dark? At night, with no lights?
”

“
Hmm…
”
he stared at it through his own binos. It ran down towards a secondary road which curved
onto
the highway.
“
Why would I want to drive with no lights?
”

“
Because otherwise you
’
d be visible.
”

“
True. Hmm... yeah. Yeah, I think I could handle it. Can
’
t guarantee how fast, but it looks pretty stable. But
how do we get rid of the lights
?
”

Wentworth raised his eyebrow.
“
…you could turn them off?
”

Raxx shook his head.
“
Daytime Running Lights.
”

“
What?
”

“
They
’
re a safety feature; used to be mandatory, I think. They turn on whenever the truck
’
s running; made it easier for the other drivers to see you.
”

“
Can
’
t you unplug them or something?
”

“
No, see, that
’
s the thing – the safety feature
’
s part of the electrical system.
They burned out on me one time, and it killed the ignition power,
”
he scratched
the stubble growing on his head.
“
I had to fix the headlights before she would start.
”

Wentworth glanced back at the vehicle, glaring at the amber panels.
“
Safety feature.
”
For a moment he considered cursing.
“
I suppose asking the other drivers to pay attention would
’
ve been too much… Raxx, you think you could wire up a blackout drive?
”

Back in his Regiment days, that
’
s what they
’
d called it. A master kill-switch for all of the lights that would trick the vehicle into thinking they were still working. More than just that, a kill switch for all the electronics, too
, as a double safety feature
for explosive environments
. As he spoke Raxx grew thoughtful, running his hand
over
his
tool belt
. When he finished the Mechanic wandered off without saying a word. Multimeter in hand, he began probing the truck
’
s
electrical
veins.

For the rest of the evening he worked. Occasionally Wentworth would hear the vehicle start up, then shut down as Raxx ran tests. For a while
the man
just sat in the passenger seat thinking. Later he
’
d disassembled some of
the
interior moulding, and Wentworth saw him contorted under the dash. This was the first time he
’
d struggled against the vehicle
’
s nature.

Twilight was descending
and still nothing in the settlement. Hunger pangs had forced Raxx to take a break. He was glaring directionlessly, eating his unheated meal.

Wentworth took a swig from his canteen, staring at the placid town. Raxx must have eaten in a hurry; he could already hear him working on the truck again. He lit up a cigarette and continued watching. The sun
’
s red light was diffusing through the gathering clouds, turning the sky tan and amber. It was going to be a dark night.

“
Fuck!
”
Steel clanged as Raxx threw a tool at the ground. Wentworth glanced back in time to see it bounce toward the house, lodging in a piece of rotted drywall. Turning back toward the settlement, Wentworth could hear the man muttering, and putting his tools away, then slamming truck
’
s hood. A few minutes later Raxx hauled himself up the stone wall, and joined Wentworth on the log.

“
Didn
’
t go so well?
”

“
Nah,
”
said Raxx, his voice relaxed and calm,
“
Either there
’
s something I missed – some relay I didn
’
t notice – or – hell, I dunno. I wish I had
a good
electrical diagram for my girl. The one I
’
ve got is wrong in some parts. I should be able to find a way around it, eventually – but for now I just rigged it.
”

Wentworth butted out his cigarette and looked down at the truck. Squares of duct tape covered the headlights.

“
That
’
ll do. You want to take over the picket? I
’
m going to go wash my canteen cup.
”

He got up and vaulted down to the landing, walking down the stairs to the rear of the truck. Unscrewing the cap on the water jerry sitting on the bed, he tilted it over and rinsed out the aluminum cup. Shaking it dry, he put it back into its pouch, topped of his canteen, and rejoined Raxx on the hill.

By the time he returned Raxx had lit
a
cigarillo and was looking thoughtful.
“
You know, earlier this week, just after we got into town and were doing all that boozing, you said something that stuck with me and it
’
s been going around my head.
”

“
Yeah?
”

“
You asked me
‘
Do you think the war helped us appreciate tragedy?
’
I was wondering what you meant by that.
”

The words sparked a memory, flashing him back to the Tracy
’
s Roadhouse. The beer had been
catalyzing
his brain, letting disparate thoughts flow together.

Tragedy.

An off the cuff remark
, made
as various elements crystallized – only to fall apart with the next sip of beer.

“
Tragedy.
”
he said it out loud, tying to evoke the forgotten thoughts. One by one the pieces drifted in from his subconscious, but some were fragmented, others missing. His eyes ticked back and forth across the horizon, alert for the raiders, but it was reflex-response. His mind was focused inward, trying to find the paths he
’
d travelled before.

“
My entire life,
”
he spoke slowly,
“
has been spent studying war – not just any war,
the
War. Everything I do, everywhere I go – it
’
s always there in the background. It
’
s the one... fundament, for everything. That
’
s how it feels, anyway. Like every day we
’
re stuck paying the toll.
”

“
I know what you mean. It
’
s everywhere you go.
”

“
Not just in the physical sense, either. That part
’
s obvious – farmers lyeing their fields against acid rain; mutations in crops, livestock, people; the social and structural breakdown – say, you know what a horse is?
”

“
Yeah – it
’
s an old pre
-
metric measurement for wattage. Horse Power
’
s how it
’
s usually written.
”

“
That
’
s not what I meant. The
‘
Horse
’
part of Horse Power is the name of an animal they used for riding back in the pre
-
tech days. When they made the first vehicles I guess they measured how good they were by how many horses they were equal to.
”

Raxx canted his head to the right.
“
…
yeah!
They used to use
‘
em for riding on. Like your motorcycle? You
‘
saddled
’
‘
em for ridin
g, right?

“
Yes. They were sort of
like an ox, only skinnier
and faster
.
”

“
I
’
ve read about them in old stories, only I didn
’
t really get what they were talking about
‘
till now. I haven
’
t read any of those since I was a kid. Huh. So
what
, none of them survived?
”

“
Well, I don
’
t know. There might be some left somewhere, I guess, but I haven
’
t seen or heard of any since E-Day. And I guess you haven
’
t either.
”
He shrugged,
“
They must have been more sensitive than other animals to the radiation, or to something else. Maybe they all got eaten. Who knows? But I don
’
t think there were that many before the war, there wasn
’
t much use for them. So that didn
’
t help...
”

He
’
d gone off track. He thought for a moment before continuing.
“
Take farmers. The way their lives have changed, how their farms have changed… what
’
s happening now is something new. It
’
s not... it
’
s not just like they just threw away all the tech – they
’
ve still got some of it – but it
’
s... schizophrenic.
”