11: Forest Guys

I remember one time I was riding down some old highway, hasn't been a main thoroughfare in forever. Got superseded by a freeway built a short ways away, higher capacity, connected better to population centers. Anyway, this old highway was pretty out of the way, but still had some dead and dying towns latched onto it. I was riding down this road because, honestly, I just wanted to speed down some blacktop at like three hundred kph and not take any shit from any highway patrol or road marshals or anything like that. Unfortunately, that also means that there's no civilization for miles, so if you find yourself in a world of shit, ain't nobody gonna help you. I'm used to that, though, so for me it was "eh." Basically, yeah, it was "eh." Like, "oh well."

I had an "oh well," or rather, an "oh shit" moment happen to me in that ride down the blacktop. My bike, it broke down with this loud-as-hell bang from the engine. Startled me, it did, and it gave me a shake in the ass. Pulled up right at the edge of this abandoned town, it was about midday when I did. I got off quick, at which point the thing started spewing white smoke. I was like "Oh shit, oh shit," when I hopped off of my bike double quick, grabbing my bag and my other shit and dashing away from it. I swear I thought it was gonna blow as I backed off a good distance away from my ride, but fortunately for me no such thing happened. Still, though, my bike turned into a charcoal briquette, and I wasn't partial to getting roasted while riding on it. Had to find someone to fix it up, so I wandered into the dilapidated town to see if someone was around.

The place was called Sunset. Just a bunch of abandoned buildings: houses, a general store, a bar. Didn't get the feeling the place was totally empty, though, so I kept my hand on my blaster as I went in, my duffel bag carrying my shit slung over my shoulder. Had my heavy blaster's barrel and the rifle I took from Bronstein sticking out of the zipper. Walked down what seemed to be the main street, it was chocked with just sand and dust. Most of the buildings were too. Actually saw a tumbleweed cross my path. Started to think there wasn't nobody around… until all of a sudden someone showed up. Moved into view from behind the corner of a building. Classic merc, had on tac gear and shit like that with camo clothing and a beret. Also wore sunglasses. Had an Adler M9, long used by the Cornerian Armed Forces and exported across the galaxy, and pointed it straight at me.

"Hold it right there!" said the guy. The most striking thing to me was his fur color: he was a green bear with almost like a pink nose. "Hands up, hands up!" Didn't wanna get shot, and no way was I gonna draw on the spot, so I just followed his commands. "No sudden movements. Who're you?"

"Name's Wolf O'Donnell," I answered.

"O'Donnell. I heard that name. From the rumor mill in the Circuit. They said you killed some burned black ops soldier who occupied a mine in Iverson, and you offed Julius Ra-Ki."

"It was a while back, but yeah, I did."

"Now you understand my apprehension towards you. Laurinaitis! Secure his weapons!"

Heard some footsteps from behind me, no doubt this Laurinaitis fellow was hiding out in one of the buildings, waiting for the cue from the green guy. He swiped my Universal and grabbed my bag. Couldn't do shit, since I had a blaster trained on me and I'd get shot if I did anything, but lemme tell you I was fuming. I was pissed. I wanted to strangle this Laurinaitis guy for putting his grubby little paws on my shit. But I had to eat it, otherwise I'd die.

"Check him."

Oh shit, here we go. Gonna get fondled by some idiot. He gave me a pat-down, swiped a holdout blaster I had on my ankle, a combat knife, not much else though. Didn't have much else anyway. These two guys eased up a bit once they were satisfied with stripping me naked, basically.

"Follow me."

Like I had a choice. Anyway, I went with the green guy. Started off down the street, not much noise besides some breeze from the southwest and our boots squishing the sand on the ground. It was about midday, which meant that the sun was particularly brutal at this moment. Had a sweat forming on my head, and I was panting, my tongue sticking out. Green guy seemed a bit annoyed by it, looking back at me with a side glance. He seemed a bit relaxed, which meant that he knew Laurinaitis had his own piece trained on me. Still couldn't make any move without getting smoked, but I looked for a way out all the way. We rounded a corner, went into this open area, like a park or something, there was a playground in the center. Saw a pair of vehicles parked on the street, if you could still call it a street considering it was almost choked with sand. From the vehicles came two figures. One was an orange beaver, wore a yellow hardhat, worn denims, boots, had a tool belt and overalls keeping his pants up and a wife-beater for a top. Had cybernetic arms, must've lost the old ones. The other figure was some sort of blue anteater, had on a pair of big, round eyeglasses, with tac gear over a short-sleeved button shirt with a pocket protector on the breast, also wore cargo pants with boots. They both eyed me suspiciously, didn't blame 'em. I gave 'em the same look.

"Take a seat," said the green guy, who gestured to a dilapidated park bench. I sat my ass down on it, and I swear to God I thought it'd just fall apart when I'd put pressure on it, thankfully it didn't though. "So, what're you doing here, O'Donnell?"

"My bike broke down just outside of town," I explained.

"And how convenient, your bike doing such a thing right next to where we are."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Why are you travelling down this stretch of road?"

Didn't like his increasingly accusatory tone, the green guy.

"Joyriding."

The bear's brow furrowed.

"Who are you guys anyway?"

Greenie got a steel chair from one of the vehicles, plopped it down in front of me, and sat in it. He leaned back, putting his M9 in his lap. "My name is Phoenix Fletcher." Then he gestured to the anteater. "That there's Simon Snyder." Then to the beaver. "Howard Holden." Then to the guy behind me, where I turned my head to see a towering blue moose, wearing tac gear and outdoorsman clothing, who also wore sunglasses. "Lucas Laurinaitis." I turned my gaze back to Phoenix, who explained further. "We're part of a mercenary group operating out of Merkopa. Silvanus Security Services."

"Woah, woah, wait," suddenly started Simon. "I thought we were called Arboreal Corporation?"

"What! No way!" interrupted Howard. "Our name's the Brotherhood of the Forest. At least, it should be, sounds way cooler than Silvanus or ArborCorp."

"I thought we were called the Happy Tree Friends," butted in Lucas. The other three looked at him with vexed glares. "Hey, you mind if I smoke a J?" Before anyone could say anything, however, I already heard a mechanical lighter getting flared up and some flames licking a joint.

Phoenix made a gesture and opened his mouth to speak, but he only sighed exasperatedly, giving up halfway through his movements. "Ah, whatever, you're already doing it."

"Yeah, fucking A, man," said Lucas with a strained voice as he inhaled. "So, what's your, uh, your… your story, Wolfman?"

Gave Lucas an eyebrow as I eyed him from head to toe, amused at this stoner with a shotgun hanging around his neck via a sling. He stank. Hah, he fucking stank! Oh, oh God, I got high just by being next to him. Anyway, I repeated what I said to Lucas. "My uh, my bike broke down right outside of town."

"Oh man," said Lucas. "That's uh, that's a bummer man. That's a bummer." He kept nursing his joint, inhaling some more oxygen to stimulate his senses.

"Don't worry, Sergeant," said Simon. "I scanned him the moment he walked into town, he's clean. Nobody else for kilometers, either. And he's telling the truth, that motorcycle of his is… well, I'll let Handy explain."

My ears twitched when they heard the strange nicknames Simon had for his buddies. Howard gave a side glance to Simon, as if he was ticked off that the anteater referred to him as 'Handy.'

"Well, the scanner couldn't tell me much," began Howard. "I'll need to eyeball it personally. If you want help, that is."

"The name's Wolf," I said. "And… I wouldn't mind a helping hand."

Howard drew in a sharp breath and let it out with a heavy sigh, seemingly exerting a lot of effort to not just explode.

"Yeah…" uttered Lucas. "Try not to mention to Handy about the…" I looked back to the moose, who put up his own hands and wiggled his fingers. No doubt he was referring to Howard's cybernetic limbs.

"Shut the fuck up, Lumpy," demanded Howard in a forceful tone.

"Easy, Holden," said Phoenix, stepping in to keep the peace, his staring of me not breaking for one moment. "Tell you what: fix O'Donnell's bike, maybe that'll help you cool off."

"Yeah," said Howard with almost a growl. "Shit like that usually does."

"Alright, go. Need help?"

"Nah."

"Very well. Laurinaitis, go with Holden, keep an eye on O'Donnell. Snyder, tell HQ we're ready to be picked up."

"I already sent a message two hours ago," said Simon.

"And you'll send another message right now. Go on, then."

"O'Donnell," said Howard. "Take me to your ride, let's see what's up with it."

"Alright, but first things first: can I get my blasters back?"

Everyone stopped what they were doing, and looked at Phoenix. He tilted his head, stayed leaned back in his chair, then smiled. "Give him his sidearm, but just his sidearm," he commanded. And so, Lucas followed the command and offered me my Universal. I took it, stuffing it back in my holster. "Just don't try anything with us, O'Donnell, you hear?"

"Don't got a reason to," I replied.

"Wonderful!"

So I started off to my bike, with Howard and Lucas following me. Saw Phoenix and Simon head off to their vehicles. In no time flat I reached my bike, which was still smoking a bit.

"Goddamn, dude, where'd you get this bike from?" asked Howard, putting one hand on his belt with the other swayed lazily.

"I got it from a pawn shop." That was a lie, I stole the bike from some drunk who was passed out in a bar. Swiped his keys right off him and never really stopped riding. Of course, the problem now is I have no idea what really makes it tick.

"This looks like… well, not good. Just from eyeballing it here, I can tell it's unbalanced. The thing tends to wobble a bit once you hit, like, sixty, right?"

He wasn't wrong there.

"Your exhaust is beaten all to Hell, I'm surprised it hasn't melted already. Hmm…

Howard leaned in a bit more closely to see. Then he started fiddling around with the core.

"Okay, what's the fastest you've ridden this thing?"

"Three hundred klicks an hour."

There was a pause as he glanced back at me with a slightly concerned look on his face.

"How long do you keep that speed up?"

"Ah, I was blazing down this route for the past hour or two at three hundred."

"Shit." He shot straight up and stepped away. "This engine here's a Mackerville, those things aren't built for sustained high speeds."

"Really?"

"Yeah! What, you were planning on going faster?"

"Uh… yeah. Maybe one day I was hoping to break the sound barrier."

"That's over twelve-hundred kilometers an hour, without shielding your body would be shredded apart. Not to mention you'd be paste if you hit even a small pothole on the road, which I can personally guarantee will happen."

"Personally guarantee? What, you've seen it before?"

"Oh yeah. Even experienced it once."

"What…?"

"It's a long story. Anyway, a Mackerville engine like this, not possible. Now a Stillson… you can get up to half of the speed of sound with one of those, no sweat. Any vehicle, any day. Especially an Excelsior Cruiser like this. Ah… you installed some shielding."

"Yeah, it helps when I'm in a tight spot."

"It's a Louverture Mark II. I can upgrade it to a Mark III if you want, with it you can shrug shoulder-fired anti-vehicle rockets like nothing. It'll cost you though."

"No thanks," I answered quickly. Didn't wanna part ways with my money.

Howard shrugged. "Suit yourself. The work won't take long. Hey Lumpy, get that Stillson engine from the truck."

"Yeah," replied Lucas. He shuffled off to get the engine block. How he'd manage to get a whole damn engine from there to here was beyond me.

"So," I started, hoping to make small talk with the beaver, "how long have you guys been in the merc business?"

"Eh, a few years," replied Howard, still tinkering with my ride. Didn't really know what he was doing, but apparently it was something since it looked like the old engine was starting to come out of the bike's frame. "We've had some good contracts, slowly been building up a rep in the Merkopa system."

"Business good then?"

"It has its moments."

"Indeed."

A short time passed before Howard pried out the engine with his bare robot hands, tossing it aside with a resounding thud onto the ground. He looked around.

"Lumpy! The fuck is that engine?!"

"Alright, alright, hold your horses," said Lucas. Struggling to carry the engine, the blue moose's arms shook like they were in an earthquake. Suddenly, the guy's limbs gave way, and the engine slipped from his grip… bam! Right onto Howard's large, flat tail. The beaver let out a piercing high-pitched scream, a far cry from his muted yet coarse demeanor.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" yelled Howard. Lucas hurriedly pushed off the engine from Howard's tail, and Howard himself crawled away from the piece of machinery. His tail looked unnaturally bent out of shape. Sick. Made me sick. It was like a car crash: you wanted to look away, but you just couldn't. "What the fuck!" he said. Kept groaning and yelling as he stared at his mangled tail.

"Oh my God!" exclaimed Lucas. "I-I-I'm so sorry, uh…!"

Heard some running, and saw that Phoenix and Simon were coming.

"What the Hell happened?" asked Phoenix with a concerned tone.

"That fucking idiot dropped the engine on my goddamn tail, gah!" yelled Howard with a pained voice.

"Shit…" said Simon. "I'll get a medkit!" The anteater left us.

Phoenix meanwhile crouched down to examine the damage on Howard's tail. "Doesn't look good," he said. "But don't worry, I can fix you up decent enough for you to travel. After that it's just a matter of waiting for our evac."

"Fuck!" Howard yelled once again, taking sharp, quick breaths, almost sorta hyperventilating.

"Calm, easy, Holden…" said Phoenix in a low, soothing voice.

"Fucking shit! Goddamn Lumpy!" cried out Howard.

"I hear you. Just take it easy, you're gonna be fine. It's not like you got shot or anything."

Howard's yelling went down to a whimper, a shaky low breathing.

Suddenly that anteater guy came back with the medkit, and plopped down beside Howard.

"I got this," said Phoenix to Simon. "Finish up with O'Donnell's engine, will ya?"

"Ok," said Simon, who went to work. My vision darted between Phoenix fixing up Howard's mangled tail, Simon struggling to lug the engine into my bike, and Lucas looking at the whole spectacle, shrinking away in shame as he had a guilty look on his face.

"C'mon, let's get you back to the vehicles, Holden," said Phoenix. The two of them made their way back to their cars.

A few more minutes passed before Simon managed to fix up my bike. "Ok, I'm no Howard," he started, "but I managed to make suitable repairs. It should be working fine, but get to a licensed mechanic just in case."

"Yeah, thanks," I said. "You Forest Guys are an odd bunch, you know that?"

"Oh, you don't know the half of it," said Simon. "Well, I guess you'll be off then?"

"S'right," I said.

"Hmm… You alone then?"

"Always."

"It doesn't have to be that way."

"What, you offering me a job?"

"More than that. Maybe… membership into our little outfit? It'll have to be cleared by the bosses, but-"

"I'll stop you right there. No thanks."

"You sure? You'll even get a nifty little nickname… Wolfy."

My ear twitched when he said that name. "Wolfy." Didn't know what to think of it, still don't really. But what I did know was my mind was made up.

"Sorry, it's a hard no."

"Lone wolves rarely last long in the Circuit. You're liable to get eaten alive by the bigger outfits."

"Oh yeah? Tell that to Paul Chmielnicki."

"Yeah, but he's Paul fucking Chmielnicki, he's done things that would make most other guys shit bricks even thinking about."

"A no's a no."

There was a brief silence.

"That's a shame," continued Simon. "You seem like a tough guy."

"I work alone."

"I see… well… see you around Wolf O'Donnell."

"Not without the rest of my gear."

"Oh, right. Lucas, grab his stuff for him, will ya?"

"Uh-huh," uttered the moose. He left us, and returned a few minutes later with all my shit. Checked my bag to see if all was well, which it was, which made me happy as a lark.

"Everything fine?" asked Simon.

"That it is," I answered.

"Well… Goodbye, O'Donnell."

"Oh, before I jet, here," said Lucas. He offered me a joint. I took it. "You might need it."

"Definitely will." I stuffed it into my pocket.

Simon and Lucas ran off, back to their vehicles. Screaming could be heard in that direction, and when those two rounded a corner, they came screaming and hollering back my way. Suddenly saw Lucas get pounced on by Phoenix. The green bear looked like he totally lost his shit, going psycho and all that on everyone around him. Just tore the moose to pieces. Simon frantically tried to charge a stun blaster he had on him, but it seemed to short out on him.

"Flippy!" yelled Simon with a panicky tone. "No! Wait! Stop! It's me, Sniffles!" Phoenix totally ignored Simon's words, and he lunged at him. The two went down on the ground, and the green bear started stabbing the blue anteater in the chest. Simon let out terrified screams of agony that turned into sickening gurgling. God, I'll never forget it. While Phoenix was stabbing his latest victim, he looked up, and he and I made eye contact. He had the evilest, most sadistic glare in his eyes. Knew right then and there I had to bail quick, so I did. Grabbed my shit, hit the gas on my bike and set off down the road, took me only like a second to go from zero to sixty. Didn't look back to see what Phoenix was doing, didn't wanna either.

When it got dark I found myself a run-down motel, but I slept like shit that night. Didn't get outta my clothes, hand my blaster in my hand as I laid on the bed. Tried watching TV but I kept catching myself take glances at the door and the windows. The curtains were down on 'em but I still looked. Was pretty glad when the morning came, and I jetted outta that place real fast. Couldn't get rid of the funniest feeling that this wouldn't be my last crazy encounter, that's for sure.