LAST POST OF 2012! Let's end this on a good note!

Welcome back! Chapter 11 is here!

Recap: Monkey and Trip have talked and our favorite couple is back together. But... it's not over yet. The final showdown is coming. Let's get ready for it.

Chapter 11: Coming Storm

The following morning, Clay walked to Monkey's room to check on his wounds. He stopped just short of opening the door. He thought about it. 'I ain't seen either of them come out from here since their lil' talk… that means they're both still in there…' He chuckled to himself. 'First time in twenty years I've had to knock on this door.' He knocked and got no answer. He waited for a few more seconds. 'Maybe I should come back later.' He waited a second more. Then smirked. 'Make that much later… Guess they had plenty to… discuss…' He left them be, deciding to come back later.

Later that morning, Trip awoke in Monkey's arms, admittedly the way she wished to wake up for the rest of her life. She looked up at his sleeping face and saw he seemed just as strong as sleep as he did awake. After their heart to heart by the tree, the couple spent the entire getting closer than they ever had before. And being more in love than either of them realized they ever could be with someone else. Monkey, who never believed there was such a thing as true love, found it and even had it reaffirmed; and Trip, who never thought she'd feel at home anywhere again, found her home in Monkey's arms.

She took notice of the headband she, herself, fastened to him and how this journey started with them. The memories of their entire journey made her more emotional; she tightened her grip around his midsection. She was so grateful he was alive. Grateful he stayed. Grateful he forgave her. And forever grateful he still loved her.

Her mind then shifted to how close she almost lost him. Because she wouldn't listen to him. She almost lost him. He could've died. If it wasn't for Clay… he would have. The very thought brought tears to her eyes as she cried softly and caused her to snuggle up even closer to him.

He slowly woke up and looked down at her and saw her crying, immediately becoming concerned.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asked.

She looked at him. "I…" Her voice caught in her throat, "…almost lost you…"

He sighed. He was hoping she wasn't still thinking about that. "Trip…"

"And I'm sorry. So sorry… please…"

"Trip, Trip," he, slowly and gently, took hold of her hand and looked her in the eye. "It's okay… it's all okay…"

"Monkey…"

"It's alright, Trip… It's okay… we're both here… we're both alive… it's all alright…"

She fell silent as she rested her head back on his chest. She started listening to his heartbeat again. It greatly calmed her down.

She kept looking down. "So… what happens now?"

Monkey shifted his eyes. It was a fair question. Unfortunately, he knew the answer.

And Clay would most likely be the one who would be paying the highest price.

Later in the afternoon, as Clay changed Monkey's bandages, the couple looked at the old warrior while he worked. He showed no sign of behaving any differently from how he had always been since they met him. He had even been cracking a few jokes about Monkey's rampage against the Dreads. While reacting as they both would, the couple remained silent. Mentally, though, they were panicking about what they had cost this self-sacrificing scavenger.

The wounded wastelander looked at the old soldier. "Do they know your truck?"

Clay smirked. "Yep."

"They know you live here?"

"Yep."

Monkey paused. He didn't direct his next words at Clay; he was just thinking out loud. "They're gonna come here," he whispered.

"Yep." Clay moved on to clean another wound.

"They'll want to get back at you for helping us," Trip added.

"Yep."

"They'll want your head," Monkey put it out, plainly.

Clay chuckled. "Tell 'em ta get in line."

Monkey and Trip were surprised to see Clay so nonchalant about the impending death hordes coming his way. He was so sure of himself. He wasn't making a big deal about the Dreads coming, he wasn't tossing them out, and he wasn't even mad about the fact that a war was approaching. He was still their ally, no strings attached.

Monkey was even more remorseful that the old soldier was taking all this in stride. "I don't say this kinda thing often but… I'm sorry, Clay. I brought them here."

Clay grunted. "They were comin' eventually. Not yur fault."

"But I brought them here faster. Put your life in danger."

The scar faced man chuckled. "Gimme a break, kid. These days? Filled with nothin' but danger. We live in a world full of it, whether mechs are workin' or not. And like I told ya… they come here, I'm ready." He looked at the stitches on Monkey's arm, "Plus, I'll be honest wit' ya…" he chuckled again. "I ain't against runnin' from a fight I know I ain't gonna win. He who lives and runs away and all that."

"Never pegged you for a man who retreated," Trip said.

"Only when I got to. How do ya think I wound here?" He chuckled. "'Sides… you gotta know when to hold 'em and when to fold 'em." He finished up his medical duties, "Alright! Ya seem alright ta me, kid. Ya heal up well."

"He had a great doctor," Trip smiled.

Clay smirked. "Or maybe he just had more of a reason to get better."

Monkey and Trip looked at each other and smiled.

"Whelp!" He slapped his thighs. "I'm gonna round up some emergency stock… just in case we get inta the thick of it and gotta make a run for it." He stood up.

"Clay…" Monkey said. "Thanks."

The old man smiled and nodded. "Don't mention it." He walked out of the door, heading to go pack his emergency provisions.

"Such a kind hearted man," Trip described.

"Ain't many of him around…" Monkey thought about it. "If any…"

The situation again came back to both of their minds. The Dreads were coming, that much was for sure. And they were coming to kill and destroy.

Trip looked at her boyfriend, "What have we done?"

"You didn't do anything." The wastelander sighed. He leaned forward, resting his arms on his legs. "I did."

"You only went back after them after what I did." She sighed. "If I wasn't so stupid… so incredibly stupid…" She paused for a minute. "I cost this man his home."

She was ripping herself apart. He knew better. "I did. It's been a long time coming."

They could go around in circles a million times but they both knew the truth: they were both to blame. They knew it. The first person they had met in so long with no ulterior motive to helping them and they had just cost him everything he knew.

Monkey looked at the ground. "If they come here…" He looked back up at Trip. "I'll have to fight 'em."

"Monkey, you're still…"

"I know. Still healing. But I have to. I can't just let them take this man's home without a fight. Clay's the first nice guy I've met in forever."

Trip smiled. "What about Pigsy?"

He closed his eyes for a second, remembering that cretin. He exhaled harshly. He looked at her with an irritated glare. He couldn't believe she just said that.

"Kidding."

He shook his head. "Fight's coming. It's gonna be a rough one but I'm going to have to."

"I know." In that moment, the redhead made her own decision. "We'll both have to."

He looked at her confused. "'Both'?"

The tech genius opened her mouth then sighed. "I'm as much to blame for this as you are. I'm going to help you." She shrugged, "With more than just technical support."

This didn't sound like a good idea. "What do you know about fighting?"

She shrugged again, "I've watched you long enough. Besides, if that women, Hammer, can do it, then so can I."

Monkey chuckled. "Yeah. I'll bet you can."

"Just… I wish was actually able to use a weapon."

He shrugged. "Maybe Clay's got something."

"Let's ask him."

"But are you sure?"

Trip thought it over. She nodded, slowly. "Monkey… when my dad died… you had to fight your way through mechs to save me… hell, the whole reason this journey of ours even started… is because I can't do anything like you can on my own… Even when we went to get from the Dreads… I didn't save you… I caused that mess and I didn't save you… Clay did… everyone around me has to fight for me because… because… I'm so helpless… so afraid… so… pathetic…" She paused. She looked down at the ground. "…so weak…"

He had never heard Trip talk like this. It honestly worried him. "Trip…"

She looked him in the eyes with a look he'd never seen in her before. Power. "I'm tired of being weak… being the cause of everyone's problems and never able to help with the solution. I need to do this. Not just for you… or Clay… but for me, too." She paused for a second. "I have to do this."

She meant it. Every word. Monkey could easily see that. He moved to the edge of the bed. "Alright… let's go."

They both went to Clay, who was out in the garage prepping weapons and supplies on his truck, and told the elder man that they felt guilty about him having to go against the Dreads for them and they wanted to help defend his home against them.

"Ya do realize what yu're askin'?" the scavenger replied.

They both nodded.

"We need to do this, Clay," Monkey said.

"And I have to help," Trip said, confidently.

"It's we want."

The scarred man looked at his guests. People who wanted to fight, to defend anything were rare in this day and age. Loyalty was even rarer. He smirked. And his response was simple. "Let's grab us some tools, then."

The old soldier led Monkey and Trip to his armory so they could all be ready for the incoming army of mad men. The armory was in his bunker underneath the main house and looked more like a museum for ancient weaponry.

"Those punks are gonna come to my house… startin' trouble," the old man said. "We all need ta be ready."

"We will be," Monkey assured. "I won't let them destroy your home, Clay." He paused. "I owe you that much…"

The old soldier nodded. That meant a lot to him. It also told him that these two people were as upstanding as he originally thought. He scoffed, "Just wish we had the chance ta round us up some back-up."

"Back-up?" Trip asked.

"Yeah. LOT of folks hate Stern and his crew. Just cain't do nothin' about it. No chance to organize 'em all. And no one is brave enough ta lead the charge ta stand up to 'em."

That got Trip thinking. No one… not the case anymore.

"No time for that right now," Monkey spoke up, confirming what everyone thinking. "The fight's probably already on its way. Just gotta make do wit' what we got."

"Damn right." Clay stared at Trip, "Now, then, as far as weapons go… I think I got a little somethin' ya can handle, lil' lady."

Trip giggled. She liked Clay's speech pattern. It was so interesting… and funny.

Clay opened a drawer pulled out a pair of seemingly normal black gloves. "Got no idea what they used ta be called but I call 'em 'shock gloves.'" He fitted them on her hands, finding them to slip on perfectly. He scoffed. "Fits like a…" He stopped just short of making a joke older than him… or the farm. "…never mind." He turned them on, pressing small circuit on the inner wrist. A blue light ran through the grooves of the gloves' outer lining.

"Whoa…" Trip breathed out.

Monkey folded his arms. "It's a glove, Clay."

Clay chuckled. "Ain't you observant?"

Monkey rolled his eyes.

"Heck of a lot more helpful than ya think, though, I'll tell ya. Ya can short out a mech with those damn things." He stared at them. "Just, uh…" He looked back at Trip, "watch where ya aim 'em and what ya touch. Hmm? Knock myself for a whole day 'cause I forgot ta turn the damn things off once. And, I mean… once."

Trip laughed while Monkey shook his head.

The old soldier looked around again. "Now, then… for another lil' somethin' for ya…" He pulled down a crossbow. "This is about yur speed, Trip."

"What is it?" Trip asked.

"It's an old-style crossbow but modified. Got a whole lot of fancy thing-a-ma-jigs you'll just love. It doesn't have a lot of repetition to it but it's useful, let me tell ya. Got days… hell, months worth of arrows you can use wit' it."

"Oh. Thank you."

"You sure this is okay?" Monkey asked. "This is gonna be a war. They'll rip this place apart. Or try to."

Clay grunted. "Never get too attached to things. People? That's fine. The right person is always worth defendin' and fightin' for. Not things. Not places." He looked at the armory. "Let's get ready."

"Just hope we can be prepared in time," Trip said.

"We better be. Since they're already loadin' up." He paused, looking up at ceiling, seemingly deep in meditation. "I can almost hear 'em loadin' up their guns. Those punks are on their way. I can already hear the engines… feel the tires in the sand. It's like a damn thunderstorm… just over the horizon… where ya can't see it… but ya sure as hell can hear it. Ya hear it? Ya feel it?"

"Yeah…" Monkey breathed out. Trip and Clay looked at him as he stared off into space. "Yeah, I can feel it… Stern's losin' his cool, Hammer's goin' off… Rod's probably still down but… yeah. They'll need time to gather everyone they can get for now but… they're coming."

They all paused.

"They'll be here soon."

The following morning, just as the sun was rising over Steel, Roadblock and Barricade drove into town with other Dreads, pulling a large metal box behind Barricade's truck, to see the destruction after Monkey's assault on the Dreads compound. They drove to the mansion and saw Stern and Hammer standing with less than pleased looks on their faces, surveying the destruction and repairs.

"Uhhh…" Barricade said, "what happened?"

Hammer growled. "WHAT DO YOU THINK, DUMBASS?!"

Both brothers took a step back.

"Did you find him?" Stern asked. He was angrier than usual. And, for once, his voice gave that away.

"Y-Yeah…" Roadblock replied. "In the box."

Stern walked over and looked at the metal box. Two of the Dreads were guarding it. "Open it."

The Dreads nodded then proceeded to do as ordered. They unlocked the metal box and opened the door. Inside, sat a man with long brown, thin hair and a full beard. He was starting to go grey. He wore tattered brown clothes, his skin was pale and cracked, and his nail jagged and rough and broken off in some areas. His facial features, with the pointed nose and ears, almost made him seem more demon than man. His skin was so pale that it was almost impossible to tell last time he saw daylight.

Stern chuckled. "I see prison has made you look better."

The man was quiet.

"So, anyway, I know heard it was time to play. But I didn't tell you who your playmate is."

The man sat motionless.

"Monkey."

Suddenly, an evil, creepy smile immediately shot across the man's lips. He laughed a nasal chortle. "Oh, Sterrrrrrrrrrn…" he turned his eyes toward the evil commander, "you always did know how to make… me… smile…"

So, now, you have met Wild Rider. And he seems to be as evil as Stern. What's next? Come back next year and find out.

(No one freak out! That's just a little joke there since I'm posting this on New Year's Eve.)

Next Chapter: Joker's Wild

Wild Rider is bringing the Dreads to Clay's farm to end Monkey and his allies once and for all. But Monkey and Clay and even Trip are ready for the fight.

The storm has arrived...

You won't wanna miss it!

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HAPPY NEW YEAR!