Another short chapter about dealing with end of the world problems. Like smelling too tasty for your own good

If you can name the performer of the song you get a cookie and the right to make any suggestion no matter how crazy and I will try to work it into the story.


"That's sick."

"You're sick literally so, Shut up- Don't listen to the mouthy War Boy mumsy. He's just angry and in pain. So much rotten pain..."

"Your fault for not letting me croak like I should've."

"If you don't stop fuckin-forkin muttering shit behind my back Slit- Dune swears!"

"How come you only say my name when you're pissed?!"

"Because it's a shitty name."

The war fodder spat a curse as I turned back to mum. I was busy rearranging the shiny ornaments I had made for her. Maybe poor duck- Slit just wasn't capable of understanding. Mum wasn't looking so hot lately, all bones and jerky now after the long years sitting here in the corner. She didn't stink anymore like she had once. The smell had long gone away.

"What should Dune do mum? Didn't think about how much food two sets of gutty works would go through..."

"You're talking to a fucking corpse you know. It can't hear you." He grumbled and hissed. I liked him much better before we both got hungry. There was still the water dripping down faithfully from the stone, but after a few days without something to chew on this temper of mine was inconsolable.

"Dune knows that Slit. Just be quiet so she can make sense of what ma says." He needed to shut up. Mama always talks softly, in ways only a daughter could understand.

"What's crawled up your arse? You're usually chipper for a loony bitch." He said and I felt worry twist my stomach.

I hadn't felt worry in a long time. The waste always provided.

"We're out of maggots. No more food. No more life... No more Dune and Slit before long." I supplied him with the truth because it might silence him.

He was sitting up now, talking more too. Usually his scorn was fun, I could hiss back and make it a game. Not today. Yesterday I gave that noisy face of his the last half a handful of grub and my guts were two days empty then. I should have dug his leg out of the wreck too and dumped that into the maggot farm. There would still be three or four days of crawlies to munch if I had.

By now the flies and crows would have left nothing but bone and gristle to salvage.

I stepped away from mama and sat across from Slit, watching him grip at the stump of his left thigh.

It had been heartbreaking to watch poor Ducky realize it was gone. Once he'd been able to move a little he had said his foot was hurting him something fierce so I checked. The other one he'd said when I mistakenly looked at the only foot he's still got. He'd watched in horror as the covers were pulled away to reveal that there wasn't really anything left to hurt below his left knee. Then he cursed some fool called Nux.

He seemed to be coping now in his own way. He's been even angrier and nastier since then but who could really blame him for that?

Surprisingly his slacks had protected a good portion of his legs from the blaze although the tools and doodads in his pockets had gotten hot enough to leave their marks. There was a perfect red imprint of a wrench seared into his ass like a brand. It had been in his back pocket.

Slit leaned back against the boulder he slept next to despondently. I didn't know if he was all slumpy because of the news of our food shortage or just because being miserable was a part of his personality.

He was getting boring to look at what with being all quiet and mopey. He got like that sometimes. That pout was one of the few expressions that I hated to look at on his delightfully mangled lips.

I turned my eyes back to mama. Sometimes all I had to do was keep my thoughts on her and the answers to my questions would just pop into my head like magic. I thought of a song she used to sing.

"Oh, the shark, babe, has such teeth, dear. And it shows them pearly white. Just a jackknife has old Macky Heath babe. And he keeps it outta sight..."

I ran the tip of my tongue over the edges of mine. Not so white anymore though. Not like pearls they were. Teeth made for tearing, cutting bits of lizards to ribbons. Sometimes people too. Slit had reeked like roasting meat before. I wondered if he might still taste okay now.

"...Ya know when that shark bites with his teeth, babe. Scarlet billows start to spread." It was only after I turned my attention back to poor Ducky that I realized I'd been singing out loud. His brows were low, but eyes wide and engaged. The tendon in his almost not at all burnt arm twitched as if preparing for something violent like.

I flashed my sharp and yellows at him, grinning wide and amused. "Ya think Dune wants to eat you up? Yeah? No?"

He started puffing up his chest like a big ol' angry cane toad, teeth grinding and the lids around his wonky eye twitching. Yeah, that's the face I liked on a Slit. He was much too fun to sink my teeth into.

"Nah Ducky. Hush hush. You mighta stunk real tasty like when I pulled you outta that metal tangle, but Dune likes the company... And she wants something fresh."

He deflated a little but not much. "By Immorta- You're a fanging bag of busted ball bearings and assorted nuts."

"Well, this nut bag is going out." I said and I did, but not before gathering what I'd need to put food in us by tomorrow night. I poured what had been collected in the water catcher into my canteen, once that was filled I dumped the rest into a mason jar and pushed it toward the War Boy.

"Make it last. Won't be back for a while" I warned. He would need to be frugal with it since I didn't think he'd be hopping over to collect his own any time soon.

Next came the knife, strapped on around my thigh and tucked into the sheath. A scarf to protect my neck from the sun, munition, and my most treasured effects. Mama's vest -all embroidered nice with faded colors- and her L42 Enfield. She taught me to sling lead at a distance back when I was still pretty to look at.

Just a quick change of wrappings for my ducky Slit, then I'd be ready to hit the sands for treasures like any good scav worth their blood and salt.