Translation of my text "Devenir Furiosa". Don't hesitate to tell me what you think.
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They tell stories about her. Okay, you're right. They are more stories about the Road Warrior, Mad Max and his ghosts, but she's in the stories we tell by the fireside, in the caves and the camps. In these stories, sometimes she's the witness of Max Max doings, sometimes his muse. Sometimes she's his enemy, sometimes his ally, his companion or his queen. Sometimes Max isn't even present in these stories.
Stories change over time and with who tell them.
In this story, Max does not intervene. When we tell it, the boys pout and cross their arms to protest the absence of their hero. But the girls, their eyes widen. They gaze at the weapons and wheels hanging against the wall with envy. I am telling you this story as my mother told it to me, as she heard it as a child from her grandmother, whom some called Cheedo the Fragile. Here is the story, as told in the Citadel, of how Furiosa became Imperator.
At that time, Immortan Joe ruled the Citadel. It was long after the fall after the world had turned into a desert, after the water wars, after the end of civilization. Water was lacking already, but there was still oil. Therefore, Immortan Joe reigned, for he had water, oil and weapons to defend the first two from his Citadel. He was even powerful enough to instigate raids and kidnap war pups and girls to serve as his breeders.
That's how Furiosa had joined the Citadel when she was still a child. Immortan had chosen her from children captured from the Vuvulani and other tribes. He admired her determination and her angry gaze.
"She will be beautiful," he said, grabbing her chin in his wrinkled old hand. She will make a perfect wife."
Furiosa had grabbed his arm with her hands to try to force him to let go. Immortan laughed.
"Your name?"
"Furiosa."
"You can keep it. I like my wives to be strong."
Furiosa soon understood that he was lying. He wanted scared little things beneath him. He liked to see them proud only when he exhibited them in public. And Furiosa was neither a thing nor terrified.
Furiosa grew up quietly among the future wives of Immortan Joe. She clenched her fists whenever she saw a pretty, terrified little girl arrive or a resigned or hopeful young woman leave to join Immortan's harem. There were only two exits for these women. The first was to become a milking mother. The other was death by their husband's fist or by the children they carried in their wombs. Each time, Furiosa repeated two words to herself, always the same.
"Not you. Not you."
She kept her word. The day she bled for the first time, she pretended to be in pain. She got permission to go to the infirmary. They pampered her when they realized that soon she would be Immortan Joe's wife and maybe even one of his favorites. They tucked her into a bed, told her she was pretty, and she was left alone to sleep and recover. When she was alone, she grabbed a huge pair of sharp scissors and thrust it into her stomach. She was found in a pool of blood an hour later. She hadn't made the slightest sound while waiting for someone to find her. Hoping they wouldn't find her alive.
When she awoke, three days after her revolt, they told her that she would probably never have a child. She smiled. Someone told about that smile to Immortan, and he was furious. He rushed to the hospital wing.
"Furiosa!" he screamed, and everyone could hear him in the Citadel. "Do you want to deprive me of my children?"
When he rushed into the room and saw her lying there, livid but with wildfire in her eyes and a smile on her lips, he grabbed her arm and threw her to the ground, snatching the IV from her arm. He started hitting her hard with his boots, and Furiosa curled up under his blows, still silent. But she was no longer smiling.
"Stop!" Draxa the Gifted pleaded.
She had been his favorite before she suffered from a disease that had left her disfigured. Because she had given Immortan two living sons, even if deformed, he had left her alone rather than slaughtering her or ordering her to produce milk for Citadel's people. Draxa the Gifted had made the infirmary her domain. Even Immortan listened to her when he was there.
"She challenged you, that's right," Draxa reasoned, falling to her knees between Immortan and Furiosa, begging. "But look at her! She's strong. She survived severe blood loss, fought a fever, and won. She won't carry your sons, but she can be of use."
Immortan Joe walked around Draxa the Gifted and grabbed Furiosa by her hair to pull her up. One of her eyebrows was bleeding, but she didn't look away.
"You refuse to bear my children. What can you do, then?"
"I can fight," Furiosa replied immediately. She thought before the add something. "Fight and serve." Immortan Joe heard and laughed.
"You're a woman, but you want to be a War Boy? Right."
He motioned for one of his bodyguards to grab the still blood-red scissors with which Furiosa stabbed herself.
"Shave it off," he ordered.
Furiosa couldn't hold back a shiver, but she didn't shed a tear when they cut her hair. She had no more tears to give. Since he couldn't hold her by her hair anymore, Immortan Joe grabbed her wrist and dragged her to the door without letting her stand. She could only close her hand against her stomach to prevent her bandage from being torn off by some brutal movement. As they left the infirmary, Immortan Joe turned to his War Boys.
"Kill everyone who witnessed the scene. There is no way this story spread. When you're done, you've got my permission to take a car and go to Valhalla. He walked away. Furiosa had time to see Draxa fall, her throat slit and her eyes wide before the door closed to keep the screams inside.
"If I hear about this, I'll take your skin to make a trophy for the Gigahorse," Immortan promised her.
He saw in her eyes that she believed him and that she would shut up. He dragged her through the Citadel's corridors. She bled on all the rough edges of the floor and walls. Finally, he pushed open the door that led to the War Boys quarters. With a sharp gesture, he forced Furiosa to stand up.
"War Boys, he yelled. Silence fell. "I offer you this one. Make it one of yours, or let her die trying."
He released the arm he was holding, letting the injured woman collapse in the dust. The door closed behind him, leaving Furiosa alone and bloody staring at fifty War Boys her age or a little older.
This is how Furiosa became a member of the War Boys when she was sixteen. She had spent four years in the Citadel and had just bled for the first time within its walls. It wouldn't be the last.
Furiosa had grown up among the Vuvalini in the Green Place, learning how to grow plants and repair motorbike engines. She didn't knew how good was her life. After, she learned to keep a low profile among Immortan Joe's brides. She knew how to adapt. She was ready to fight. At least she believed that.
The first three years were a constant struggle. Furiosa had to fight for a place to sleep, a bowl of stew, the right to learn to hold a weapon properly. More often than not, she slept on the ground with no blanket, near a boiler if she was lucky, and with nothing in her stomach. Sometimes, she would scrape the War Boys bowls to collect a few crumbs of food. If she couldn't, she just treated her bruises and tried not to imagine what Immortan Joe's wives ate.
The War Boys didn't know how to behave with her. They couldn't forget that she arrived bloody, proof of her weakness and Immortan Joe's anger. They knew that she should have become his wife and bear strong and beautiful sons. If she was here, bathed in grease and motor oil, it was because she had been unworthy. No one had ever seen this in the Citadel. Therefore, the War Boys ignored Furiosa more often than not to show her their contempt. Other times they hit her and spat on her. In response, Furiosa learned to bow her head and obey every order.
However, the war boys couldn't forget that Immortan Joe had asked them to make Furiosa one of their own, even though the idea was almost incomprehensible to them. So, every once in a while, one of the older War Boys would pull her aside and teach her how to repair sand damage in a vehicle or how to hold a spear properly. The Many Mothers weren't peaceful, so Furiosa already knew most of the basic things they accepted to teach her. She feigned ignorance to convey the image of an attentive and dedicated student.
Her tactics proved their effectiveness.
"She's a fast learner," Ace told Makol. "We teach her something, she remembers it perfectly the next time."
It had been three years since Furiosa integration in the War Boys, nine years since her arrival in the Citadel. Makol, who ran the War Boys' training, started to observe the young woman his second show him. Below them, Furiosa was fighting a War Boy for a piece of bread. He was her age but twice her size. Makol frowned at her thinness and the messy way she hit back.
"She's not strong. She won't survive long."
Ace nodded negatively.
"That's what I tell myself since her first day. But she survives. I think you can teach him to be more than that. And two more arms out there wouldn't hurt."
He was right, and Makol knew it perfectly well. At that time, Immortan Joe's domination of his territory was not yet fully secured. There had been a coup at the Bullet Farm. Suddenly the ammunition supply had stopped. Worse, the Farm had resumed trading with rivals of Immortan Joe. The War Boys could no longer venture outside their territory without risking being shot in the head by a Buzzard or another rival clan. They'd lost more War Boys in the past two months than in the previous three years.
"Immortan Joe needs warriors," Makol insisted.
"So make her a warrior. Isn't that what Immortan Joe asked us? And then, even if she dies, it will be a bullet that a stronger warrior will not take."
The reasoning held. Makol nodded his head.
"Tomorrow, take her to practice. Drag her if you need to."
There was no need to drag Furiosa around. When she realized that she was finally learning to fight, not just to hold a spear, but to fight with it, it was she who almost dragged Ace to the training room where Makol was giving his lessons. The others mocked her. Insulted her. She ignored them. When Makol motioned for her to come near him, she obeyed. When he gave the same order to a colossus who stood almost two heads above her, she clenched her fists and delivered the first blow. When she received a heavy punch in the stomach in response and flew through the air and fell twenty paces away, the War Boys snickered, then laughed as she sat up shaking, her breathing reduced to a gasp. They stopped laughing when she straightened up and stormed back, again and again. Fall. Get up. Hit. That's all Furiosa did for over an hour. Finally, Makol stopped the slaughter. Furiosa had a bloody eyebrow, a black eye, and at least one cracked rib. Her opponent only had bruises.
"You hold your blows like you're trying to knock out a fly. It's too soft. It's a miracle you haven't strained your wrist yet. You must be firmer but not too firm, or it would break."
A demonstration was enough for Furiosa. The next shot hit the mark. Her opponent had to defend himself now. He took only one step back, but it was enough. Makol stopped Furiosa as she was about to deliver another blow.
"All right, you'll do the job. "
It was Furiosa. She did more than the job. She learned to dodge bullets from Immortan Joe's enemies and put hers in their heads. She learned to keep her head high and take by force what people refused Immortan. She learned to swear, to hit. She gained muscle. She became good at repairing any motor, even in a moving vehicle.
Sometimes - often - she regretted the comfort she would have known as Immortan Joe's wife and the privilege of not having to worry about tomorrow. Then she remembered the bloody body of a wife who died in childbirth she saw once, and she shivered.
She lived by a mantra. A promise to herself. To be something other than a blood bag, a milker or a fragile bride. To survive. To fight. To live another day. To survive.
Time passed. Immortan Joe regained control over his territory. Furiosa's situation remained precarious, even after ten years in the Citadel. She had lost all hope to run away for a long time. Yes, she continued to count the days since her separation from the Vuvalini of the Many Mothers, but only by habit. Like everyone in and around the Citadel, she had only Immortan Joe as God and Master. She feared him, hated him, but revered him and did not imagine life elsewhere anymore.
She still knew that, woman or not, gifted or not, she was still just one War Boy among the rest. And the War Boys were just cannon fodder, barely fit to die for Immortan Joe. Why care about the life of a War Boy when it was so easy to kidnap relatively healthy children around? Furiosa knew her life was hanging by a thread. If she wanted to do anything other than survive and wait to die on the Fury Road, she could only hope for one thing.
An opportunity to shine.
If the War Boys were cannon fodder who usually lived no more than three years once launched on the Fury Road - six months for the reckless and suicidal lunatics - some managed to be more. Ace, who had first spoken on behalf of Furiosa, was among them. He was good at obeying orders and always saw people's strengths and weaknesses. Thanks to this, he always managed to be the second of the best Imperators and always came alive. Makol shaw his talents as an instructor and spent most of his time in the shelter of the Citadel. Fungus, which managed the fuel reserves. Dot, in charge of the food. The Imperators, of course.
These were too precious to join Valhalla right away. They had experience, authority, power.
Furiosa wanted to be one of them. To be safe, to have nothing to fear inside the Citadel. This is what she wanted, but she didn't try, didn't dare to try. Because, above all, Immortan Joe terrified her. Sometimes, she would wake up sweating, remembering his hands clutching her hair, his boots in her ribs. She didn't want him to notice her.
Still, she made a place for herself over time. From a lancer, she became a driver. She had opinions and didn't hesitate to give them. Ace enjoyed it and relayed her best ideas to the Imperators. It gave her her chance, so her successes reflected on him.
Fungus liked it a lot less.
This one considered himself the perfect War Boy. He was born and raised in the Citadel, and in his head, that prove his superiority over other War Boys. These could only be mediocre since they had not drunk the milk of the Citadel while growing up. He also prided himself on being one of the few War Boys born with virtually no deformities: he simply had his arms so long he could touch his knees without bending over. When he had been drinking, the rare times Immortan Joe offered alcohol to his War Boys to congratulate them on a successful raid, he boasted that he had never had a tumour at all and that his arms made him a better driver. He was proud, strong and intelligent, enough that his fanaticism towards Immortan Joe made him devote himself to his cause rather than seeking to reach Valhalla in a brutal and senseless act. Immortan Joe recognized his qualities and put him in charge of the weekly supplies and negotiations with the People-Eater in Gaz Town. He wasn't an Imperator, but it was only a matter of time.
Furiosa had arrived at the Citadel when she was almost a teenager. Her body was perfectly healthy. She was a woman, and yet, she did not serve as a breeder or a milker. She disturbed Immortan Joe's order of thing as Fungus conceived it.
Worse, she didn't hesitate to criticize him, the perfect War Boy. One day as he was preparing a convoy for Gaz Town, he had rushed into a War Boys dormitory to requisition three conductors and six lancers. Furiosa raised an eyebrow.
"Not more?"
"The road is safe these days."
"Ace spoke yesterday of groups of Buzzards in this direction. Better to be safe."
Fungus' blood had started to boil in his veins.
"Are you an Imperator to tell me what to do?"
"No. But neither are you."
Rightly or wrongly, Fungus had heard a challenge and a threat. He refused to bow to her and repeated his order. The next day, the convoy was attacked and lost two men and a vehicle in an explosion. The War Boys whispered to each other that Furiosa got it right and Fungus was wrong.
From that day on, he hated her.
Furiosa didn't realize or didn't care. She continued to notice things and people noticed her in return.
"Furiosa said we should do it otherwise," Fungus heard a few weeks later.
"Furiosa said..."
"Furiosa thinks..."
The War Boys began to challenge his orders. Fungus felt an ulcer growing every time someone mentioned Furiosa's name.
"How was the raid?" He heard one War Boy ask another in his presence. "A success?"
"Oh yeah! You know the ones that hide in the caves to the south? They thought they could hide some of their weapons and oil from us, but Furiosa saw clearly in their game and found the hiding place. We came back with three times more oil than expected, and two working submachine guns. Without her, we'd have come with pretty much nothing."
"Impressive."
"Oh yes. Imperator Syney has said that if she continues like this, he will tell Immortan Joe so he could praise her in person."
It was too much for Fungus. He slipped away, unnoticed. The nerve of this woman stunned him. She was climbing the ranks too quickly when she was nothing. The idea of her being seen, congratulated... He was outraged.
More so, a voice deep in his head whispered to him that it had been years since Immortan Joe had promised him that he would be Imperator soon and that this had never happened. What were they blaming him for? What mistakes had he made to delay his reward? Could it be that this Furiosa bitch was overshadowing him? She had to pay.
Furiosa was awakened one morning at dawn by a hand on her shoulder. She was about to pull out a knife to face the assailant when she recognized Ace, a finger to his lips to signal her to be quiet. She nodded to indicate that she understood and bent down to pick up her things. She dressed in silence as Ace sat on the bed, watching her. There was no false modesty between them. Modesty had no place in the Citadel.
Furiosa sat on the floor to put on her shoes. Ace leaned over her and started whispering in her ear, careful to let the War Boys around them to sleep.
"He's preparing an expedition. On the Fury Road."
"Explain."
"The bullet farm has sent a messenger. They were attacked two nights ago by a large group of marauders. They made a breakthrough and grabbed boxes of ammunition. The Bullet Farmer is asking for reinforcements to pursue them."
"And?"
"And we have no idea where their base is. We'll have to seek the desert to find them. And that's going to take a lot of gasoline. Immortan Joe leaves, but he wants a group to get guzzolene from Gaz Town to supply his troops on the way. Fungus is on it. He wants you on his group."
"Okay."
Her boots laced, Furiosa began to sit up. Looking very serious, Ace grabbed her arm to stop her.
"That one doesn't like you. Watch out for yourself Furiosa, he might try something."
"I'm not afraid of him."
She wasn't afraid of anything, not even sandstorms. Only Immortan Joe scarred her. She slipped a switchblade knife and her Taurus in her belt and then her Glock 17 in her boot. She was ready.
The war room was nearly empty when she entered. Immortan Joe and his group had already left. Fungus stared at a military map, a holdover from the old days as the War Boys around him armed and congratulated each other. Curious, Furiosa approached. Perhaps she unconsciously sought the Green Earth. Maybe she didn't even dare to hope to find it. Furiosa was not yet ready to think about freedom.
Fungus noticed her, out of reflex and suspicion, immediately closed the map, careful not to destroy it.
"There you are. Did they told you where we're going?"
"Yes."
"Good. You'll be my second. You choose your vehicle, something light, you will patrol around the convoy."
"And you? "I'll be in the Big Carrier," he said, referring to one of the huge trucks used for supplies run. "Immortan Joe's party took the War Rig and the Tanker".
There was nothing wrong with the plan, so Furiosa didn't protest.
They left within the hour. The Big Carrier was escorted by five vehicles of various sizes and seven motorcycles and accompanied by the drums of the Citadel. It wasn't much if trouble arose, but they made up for it by being heavily armed. Furiosa herself had chosen a heavily customized 1980 Ford Falcon with spikes on the rims and spears on the hood and the rear. Two War Boys stood on the back, ready for battle. She looked great, Furiosa, painted white like a War Boy, tarnished by the dust and sand of the road, preceding the Big Carrier to announce its coming.
The gas loading went more smoothly than Furiosa feared. The People-Eater also heard about Gaz Town's attack. He feared the arrival of another large and organized group in the Desolation.
"It never happened," he told Fungus and Furiosa, who were overseeing the operation. "No one ever dared to threaten Joe's power. Not on this scale, and not since the first few months after he conquered the Citadel. There have been internal attempts but no major attacks from the outside. We're feared as far as our vehicles can go. Find me these motherfuckers, and kill them to the last. We must not give pests bad habits. You have to butcher them and leave the corpses as warnings to the other dogs that would pass by. Tell Joe."
"We'll tell him," Furiosa replied calmly, cutting off Fungus's fiery and fanatic speech Fungus. The People-Eater glanced her up and down with disdain.
"You may be competent for a female, but that doesn't give you the right to talk to me like I'm your equal. Next time, I'll tear your tongue out. Fungus, keep this one on a leash! Now deliver that guzzolene to Joe. Tell him we'll negotiate the price when it's over. We talk about a friend's price. Today it's not important."
It was expected. Fungus came without food or water to exchange for the enormous amount of gas now stored in the Fat Carrier. The War Boy still bowed deeply to the leader of Gaz Town, then motioned for his men to get back into their vehicles. When he turned away, he gave Furiosa a wicked smile. He was delighted with the bad impression she had made on the People-Eater. Pretending to ignore her, he climbed into the Big Carrier's cabin. No sooner had he closed the door than Furiosa jumped on the step and slid her head inside.
"What?"
"How far till we find Immortan Joe?"
"Not your problem. You're only there to escort me."
"Exactly. I need to know the road to assess the risks and how far I can make my men patrol and still keep enough gasoline."
It enraged Fungus, but he had to admit that Furiosa was right. He would not risk the success of his expedition, even if he was tempted to give her a wrong order. Besides, he preferred to be able to watch the one he internally nicknamed the viper.
"Don't go too far, he spat. Stay within sight at all times."
Furiosa raised an eyebrow but nodded and jumped to the ground to climb into her vehicle and drive off at full gas.
They drove two days and two nights, stopping only for short rest. Around there was only the Wasteland, infinite and burning. All the War Boys watched suspiciously the dunes and rocks around them. They knew how dangerous their mission was. They were moving farther away from the Fury Road. Here in the Desolation, every crevice could hide an enemy, every area of flat land could be a death trap. Furiosa was the first to notice the scout motorbike rushing back to them. The man was wounded, the shaft of a spear still stuck in his shoulder. He stopped when he was within earshot and yelled at them.
"Immortan Joe is under attack! He and his men are stuck in a canyon two hours from here! I'm going back to warn him of your arrival!"
He didn't wait for an answer, and he turned around. The War Boys made their engines growl to indicate their haste to join the fight. They turned to Fungus, waiting for his signal to rush forward. Instead, Fungus shut down his engine and jumped out of the Big Carrier.
"You!" He spat in the direction of Furiosa, who just stared at him from inside her vehicle. "I ordered you to keep the escort close. What was that War Boy doing two hours from here?"
"I gave him the order."
"I understood that. And what made you think you had the right to give that order?"
"I was right", Furiosa answered calmly. "If I hadn't, we wouldn't know that our troops needed reinforcements. Are we going, now?"
Fungus gritted his teeth. He could only think of two things: his hatred and his fear that Furiosa would take his place. He took a deep breath and began to speak, a plan forming in his head.
"Of course. This is what you want, right? To take all the glory from me?"
"Absurd," Furiosa replied, snorting contemptuously. "I try to be competent, that's all."
"Yes, of course," Fungus continued, smirking, "That's smart, isn't it?"
He raised his voice. He now addressed not only Furiosa, but also all the War Boys around.
"Watch her play to be a War Boy, as if she could, one day be as strong as one. And so eager to please Immortan! What do you think, Furiosa, that if you lead this scout team to Immortan, he'll take you to his bed? Maybe it will work. Maybe he'll take pity on you. Because that's what you are, eh, pathetic failure? A whore not even good for making babies!"
Furiosa spat in his face. Despite the distance, she hit the mark. Fungus wiped his cheek without taking his eyes off her. Behind them, a War Boy sneered. Now, Fungus was mad to see his power called into question by a pretender. Despite his fury, however, he was satisfied.
It was the opportunity he had been waiting for so long. He ran more than he walked towards Furiosa and grabbed her through the door, gripping her leather belt. His hatred strengthened his strength, for he succeeded in pulling Furiosa out of the car. She collapsed on the ground. She pushed on her arms to get up and spat out sand.
There was fear in her eyes. Never had she thought Fungus' contempt would push him to such extremity. It had only been a few days since she had told Ace that she did not fear him. She changed her mind now when she saw the madness in his eyes. It wasn't the first time she had seen a War Boy succumb to it. Usually, a War Boy's focused his rage towards Immortan's enemies and the preys he gave them.
"Are you challenging me?" Fungus yelled above her. "Are you challenging me?"
She confirmed with a nod. She had no choice. If she refused, Fungus would promptly execute her to maintain his control over his War Boys. By fighting, she would have a chance. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the War Boys immediately get out of their vehicles and gather in a vague, wide circle around them, slapping each other in the ribs and screaming their joy. They loved the brutality.
Furiosa wanted to get up to adopt a defensive position. She didn't have time. Fungus' boot hit her chin, sending her biting the dust again. Furiosa responded with a side strike with her leg and knocked Fungus to the ground. This time, Furiosa seized the occasion to pull her knife from her belt. She throw it.
The knife landed in Fungus' right shoulder, but the pain didn't stop the War Boy. He jumped on Furiosa. They rolled to the ground again, accompanied by the cheering cries of their audience. The sand crept into their clothes, but they ignored it. One thing mattered only: to hit their enemy. Furiosa's hands became claws, and she tried to gouge one of his eyes, but his punches destabilized her. Neither of them took their gun out. They kept their wits enough to realize that in the Wasteland, one shot could attract human scavengers who run from the caravans but came running in packs when a gunshot suggested weakened prey.
Around the two fighters, the War Boys were betting on the outcome of the fight. They said Fungus would win. He had greater physical strength. But those who had fought alongside Furiosa swore she could prevail.
Furiosa herself wasn't so sure. Her punches hit their mark more often, yes, but Fungus's were more brutal, despite the knife still stuck in his shoulder. She hoped she could win by wearing him off, so she let him come to her, and she only struck some very calculated blows to do as much damage as possible.
She punched him in the solar plexus, and he kicked back violently in her stomach. They were both forced to stop to catch their breath. They wiped away the blood that was running in their eyes from the repeated blows. Both had some difficulty breathing. The sun was at its zenith, and they were exhausted. The War Boys moved closer, forming a smaller circle. Everyone felt that the fight would end soon.
Furiosa struck Fungus above his ear, destabilizing him. He faltered. She landed a second blow to finish knocking him out, but he used her momentum to strike her throat. Surprised and half asphyxiated, tears in her eyes, Furiosa had to step back. This was what Fungus had been waiting for. With a long, inarticulate cry, he rushed towards Furiosa, thrusting them both backwards. As he fell, Furiosa's head slammed into a car door. The pain was terrible. For a few seconds, she couldn't even think.
The blow was so bad, Furiosa didn't realize one essential thing: Fungus had cornered her on purpose.
Maybe if she had turned around during the fight, she would have noticed that Fungus was slowly and subtly guiding her towards an old Opel that its driver had bristled over years of now rusty metal spikes. One of them had narrowly missed Furiosa's head. Fungus grabbed it with both hands, taking advantage of his opponent's state. Rust was its ally; he drew, pulled and tore off the spike, his hands bloody. He smiled.
Furiosa was coming back to herself. She raised her left arm in an attempt to deliver an uncertain blow, but Fungus slammed her hard to the ground.
"No, you will not," he screamed, punctuating each of his words with a blow from his improvised machete into Furiosa's arm. "You're done challenging me."
Furiosa yelled. She could do nothing else. She tried to push Fungus away, but she was still too stunned, too shocked to find the strength to fight back. Around them, the War Boys went quiet, shocked. They watched in disgust as Fungus butchered Furiosa's arm, shuddered when they heard the bones broke under the repeated shocks. Blood gushed on the two fighters' face. The War Boys had a code of honor, although it was vague. Extreme violence was tolerable, desirable, as long as it was for the greater glory of Immortan Joe or in the hope of reaching Valhalla. There was nothing glorious about that scene. It was a butcher's work. Worse, a useless butchery. They did not dare take their eyes off the stage because then, they should then have met the gaze of their brothers. If they did, they knew they couldn't refrain from intervening any longer. They did not dare; they were scared.
Fungus continued to strike.
Weakly, Furiosa's right hand closed around his executioner's shoulder. She slipped, but her hand closed around a familiar object. Instinctively, Furiosa tightened her fingers tightly around her knife's handle and pulled with all her might. Fungus didn't realize what she was doing. He was too busy laughing as he finished his job on Furiosa's arm. Still screaming, , Furiosa stuck her knife into Fungus' throat. Her cry turned into a death rattle. She had no strenght left.
His eyes widened as his laughter turned into a gurgling sound. He stared at Furiosa in disbelief for a moment, then collapsed on top of her.
After a moment of disbelief, the War Boys rushed to pick up the body and confirme Fungus' dead. Furiosa used that opportunity to wipe the blood from her face and reluctantly glanced at herarm. She nearly throwed up. Her forearm was little more than lint, a mass of raw flesh and muscles pierced with bones fragments.
Her moan brought the War Boys' attention back to her. They began to realize that with Fungus' death, Furiosa was now the expedition's leader. She read the hesitation in the eyes of a few of them. Should they kill her? Obey her? What would Immortan Joe think of this?
Even though she wanted nothing more than to pass out, Furiosa took matters into her own hands.
"You and you," she ordered, "help me sit up. You, I need a bandage. You should find the necessary under my seat. If not, help me rip my shirt off. The rest of you, get ready to go. I want us to be gone in five minutes."
The War Boys exchanged incredulous looks.
"But Furiosa", dared one of them, "and your arm?"uriosa refused to take another look.
"We don't have time to do a clean amputation. A bandage will do, for now. Immortan Joe is waiting for us. He's fighting right now. We can't let him down."
Her words did the job. The War Boys started running towards their vehicles and made the engines roar. With a luxury of precaution, those designated by Furiosa helped her get. They supported her half-torn arm to avoid making the situation worse. Fortunately, there were indeed bandages under her seat, almost clean. That would be enough, she decided. At least it was better than her shirt full of blood, sand, dust and motor oil. Her arm was bandaged as tightly as possible and close to her chest. Furiosa designated her lancer to replace her at the wheel of her car, then one of the hesitating War Boys to drive the Fat Carrier. She climbed up beside him and gave the order to leave.
"You ride to the canyon, or until we see the men assaulting Immortan Joe. You wake me up then, and only then. I'm going to pass out. You try to finish me off, I'll kill you with this knife. And believe me, I would wake up."
He nodded frantically. Furiosa tucked her pistol under her leg for easy access and her knife between her legs, hand clutched on its hilt. She gladly sank into unconsciousness.
She awoke when the Fat Carrier slowed down. The driver was about to touch her shoulder to wake her up. They had reached the canyon. The scout was right: Immortan Joe was trapped. His troops were on the defensive, but they resisted. Even from afar, the attackers had clearly more casualties. They knew the only way for them to win was to besiege Immortan Joe until he had no more Aqua cola, ammunition and guzzolene. The War Rig was visibly intact, and the War Boys fire continues, proving that Immortan Joe still had more water and ammo. On the other hand, the small number of moving vehicles indicated that he started to ration out guzzolene.
Furiosa assessed the situation and made her decision. She had only tried to survive until then. Now she would do more. She would be more. She didn't care about power, but she didn't like others to have authority over her. She didn't like people could attack her publicly while no one dared or wanted to come to her aid. She didn't want to need help. If she couldn't be free, she wanted to be at the top of the War Boys food chain. To be responsible only to Joe himself.
At that moment, Furiosa forgot about her concussion and her half-torn arm to focus on only one thing: being an Imperator before the end of the day.
From the Fat Carrier, she shouted her orders at the War Boys approaching them. She grabbed her pistol and, body half out of the cabin, aimed and methodically fired at Immortan Joe's enemies as the Fat Carrier stormed their troops and breached the blockade that they had established. Immediately, she jumped down from the truck and continued to shoot until she ran out of bullets. She then grabbed a gun from the nearest corpse and continued to fire, again and again. Marauders died under her precise blows or fled screaming. She was injured, yet the War Boys under her command struggled to keep up with her. She didn't pass out until she heard Immortan Joe scream triumphantly.
"Well done, my War Boys! Valhalla is open to all who will have sacrificed themselves today. And now, end them! "
When she awoke, Furiosa was lying in a bed in the Citadel infirmary. A blood-bag hanging from the ceiling fed her right arm with fresh blood. She glanced at her left arm and was surprised to see a mechanical prosthesis.
"They did it yesterday."
Furiosa turned her head and saw Ace sitting on a stool in front of her. He looked at the artificial arm with the same fascination as her.
"This is not the final model", he added. "They'll adjust it for you as you need. You were very lucky: there was no infection, and they saved most of your arm. You have iron health. I knew I was right to believe in you from the start!"
"I've always been told how healthy I am. Sometimes that gave me some problems."
"People will always be jealous. You're going to see quite a few these days, Imperator Furiosa."
Furiosa's eyes widened. She silently repeated those two words to taste their sound.
"When?"
"Immortan Joe was impressed, boss. You fought like a real fury over there, it seems, you were yelling at your men to give everything for Immortan, and you stood in the front line, burning with fever, but the Valhalla didn't want you. The War Boys say you were kept alive to do bigger things. Immortan Joe said that anyone capable of leading such a heroic charge is worthy of being one of his Imperators. If you continue like this, you'll ride the War Rig one day!"
Ace continued to describe her fury during the fight. Furiosa had only vague memories of it and didn't recognize the person Ace was describing to her. She felt she should have been proud of what she had accomplished. She'd been chosen, recognized. She would never have to fear being a prey again. Better, she was becoming something important again. Not a breeder, but an imperator. It was what she had always wanted, even before she knew she wanted it. Yet Furiosa was surprised to hear Ace describe her worthiness. Worse, she felt hopelessly empty.
It was Furiosa. She still ignored it, but she would soon discover that she felt the need to be more than a child desperately trying to survive, more than a warrior, more than an Imperator.
She sought redemption, and only her escape down the Fury Road with the Wives and Mad Max, the road warrior, would give her serenity.