Jump to Navigation

Gasoline, Gears and Gun Oil -10-

Zane Richards's picture

Wednesday 06:45hrs:   Motel Parking Lot Credit Bend



From the moment Zane had glided into town on his bike, they’d been watching him, if it could be sold, bought or traded for Travelers were aware of it, so there was a pretty good chance at least some of the top Family people knew what he’d been up to, question was where’d they stand.



Bringing his bike to a stop just outside the motel, he sat back stretching a bit, a polite nod to the Traveler guard leaning on the railing above having a smoke, a nod back.  Yea they were watching but they weren’t really concerned, Zane had been around Credit Bend enough that while he might not be quiet family he was a friendly, and a Tech which usually meant he was here to spend chips, something that was always welcome. 



And that was what it meant this morning, but he had a game to play, and so did they. 



Leaning back on the duffle strapped to the back of his bike, Zane pulls out his tobacco and goes to rolling a smoke, glancing down at Rodenberry snoozing in his pouch strapped across the gas tank, letting his mind drift away from the matter at hand to make it harder for the Traveler’s to read his intentions.



Climbing out of the window to get out of the bedroom he’d ended up sharing with Soya and Nat wasn’t the best thing for his injuries, but neither was moving the couch one of them had shoved across the door.  He chuckled to himself as he thought about it, they must have come up after he’d passed out, it was perfectly innocent but things like that were how rumors got started.



Time slowly began to rewind in his head, the conversation they had before hand, Soya’s comment about the Sheriff.  Had the young girl had a thing for the scared old man? Girl.  Zane couldn’t help but snicker at the thought; she couldn’t have been much more than in her late teens but was more mature than some a few years old.  And that language she spoke, his memory struggled with it, it sounded familiar somehow, like he should at least have known what it was.



“Can we help ya?” the slow drawling voice brought Zane out of his revelry and back to the task he’d come here for, he slowly turned to the speaker sizing up the large shirtless man in the cowboy hat for a moment before speaking.



“Maybe… need a hand or two movin’ some stuff from Pictus to Flagstaff, just a couple extra bodies and a couple ATV’s maybe.” Zane took a long draw off his smoke, wishing he felt as casual as he sounded.



“Maybe indeed, what kinda “stuff”?” The man seemed to relax a bit, either from Zane’s manner or at the prospect of making some chips for an easy job, either way perhaps this wasn’t going to cost him more than he could afford.



- - - - - -



A couple hours later Zane and the three Traveler helpers were in Pictus Ridge, strapping his gun parts and equipment to the four ATV’s they’d brought.  Cowboy hat and two others had come with him, and it hadn’t been that bad of a negotiation, seems Cowboy was looking for some scrap that Zane had in abundance, so the barter system kept his chips in his pocket and since Zane needed to lighten his load anyway, was a bit more generous than the Cowboy must have expected.  In the end he got three bodies to help out with the transport, and they agreed to take his motorcycle to Flagstaff so he wouldn’t have to come back for it.



He got a few looks from folks around Pictus while they were packing up, curious mostly, though with Zane’ paranoia working overtime he couldn’t help but wonder if there was more.  He didn’t like leaving, but he was sure that one of the Tech factions was involved in what was going on, he just couldn’t be sure which one.  The resources here were great, but fact was he didn’t know who to trust, not that Flagstaff was any better, but maybe just easier, somewhere he knew that if he had to other Riders could be there to back him up.



With the ATV’s packed and ready to go, he pulled on his shades and headed out, far too many eyes watching and wondering what was going on.



- - - - - -



Wednesday 23:00hrs: An abandoned building in New Flagstaff



With a sigh Zane collapsed into the half rotted armchair left behind by whoever made use of the space before him.  The crates he had brought over that morning lay about the room in various stages of being unpacked, a few finished rifles and one partially assembled SMG sat on the leather tarp he was using as a work space.  Rodenberry scampers up and sits eyeing him from the arm of the chair.



Pulling off his shades and beret, Zane rubs a gloved hand over his shaved head, leans back and gives his rat a slight grin.



“It was good to laugh, with everything that’s been goin’ on.”  His mind drifting back to Beau’s and the conversation that had taken place earlier.
Soya had shown up, then Nat, Drax, and finally WIchy..that other guy never did give a name.  Wichy..girl’s got some serious issues, always tryin’ to be like someone else.  Why do people do that?



Zane shook his head at the thought.  Time to get some work done, picking a nearby crate he pulls a oil stained rag bundle out and unfolds it into his lap.  The parts for another SMG, he briefly glances at the half finished one on the makeshift crate table on the other side of the room, then shrugs. “Fuck it”



Unwrapping the individually packages parts from the oil soaked cotton, he lays them out around him, and pulls a small set of tools from the pocket of his vest, getting to work.


“What do you think Roddy?” he says to the half sleeping rat, “You don’t worry about nothin’ ‘cept were to find dinner.”



Zane chuckles taking a draw of his smoke, blowing the smoke out lazily as he goes to assembling the action for the weapon spread across his lap.



“Worry about what people think, worry about what they don’t think…on and on…sometimes maybe we need to, sometimes I think we do it just to feel like we got something to do…”



Putting his tools down Zane opens a bottle of whiskey and pours a glass, taking a sip before putting it down on a nearby crate that just got promoted to “table”. 



“Soya, still can’t believe she’s as young as she looks sometimes, then other times, she seems almost playful… “ Zane shakes his head and laughs, “Don’t be stupid old man, she’s young enough to be your own daughter, and last thing you need right now is more woman troubles…”



With that Zane’s thoughts wander to Vorela, his mind trying still trying to wrap around why he can’t shake that jealous pinch in the back of his head.  Lost in thought he goes to his work, the rat looses interest and wanders off to explore.

Platform:


Main menu 2

Blog | by Dr. Radut