Chapter 2: Devils and Dust
The sun beat down across the desert. Nothing was safe from its unbreakable persistence.
Max rambled down the road. His eyes were heavy. Sleep wasn't common for travelers on the road. Stopping to rest was letting your guard down. And if you let your guard down, you ended up being looted by road pirates. Or dead.
Exhaustion was beyond Max. He moved forward on instinct alone. One of his canteens had water in it now. The other long empty. One foot in front of the other, his steps barely a shuffle.
He always kept his eye on the horizon, but nothing ever came. He was always waiting to see something, anything, coming towards him, but nothing ever came. It was almost as if there was nothing left anywhere. That, or this road was the last road left.
Beyond all exhaustion, Max sat down in the middle of the road. He opened his canteen, poured a small amount of water in his mouth, and rested his arms over his knees. He stared at the road, scratching his quickly thickening beard and wondered how far away paradise was.
A low, grumbling rumble began to hum in the distance. Max stood up, looking to the four horizons for a sign of the noise. He quickly pivoted to each of the directions, seeing nothing. No dust cloud. No shadows. Nothing. He looked up the road, in the direction he was heading, and noticed a glimmer of light on metal coming over a hill on the road ahead.
Max patted his pockets, feeling the man's lifted knife in one pocket. He stood in the middle of the road, and waited for whatever it was to come across him. The rumble getting closer and closer.
As the vehicle came closer, Max recognized its shape, but hadn't seen one in a long time. The large inflated bottom was patched in numerous places, the fan on the back hidden inside a well-dented cage. The platform carried one driver, and three other passengers: two hulking figures that carried large rifles and one seated figure, who looked as thought he wouldn't be able to stand long without wanting to sit down again for the size of his stomach.
Max squinted as he looked up at the men. All four of them stared back at him. Each man wore a dust-covered army uniform and a full face shield that resembled a welder's mask. Max wondered if they were really army men, or if they just worn the uniforms to scare anyone. Not that the army meant anything anymore. The Fat Man wore a long open coat and dusty torn pants. His coat was open to display a well-sunburned chest.
'You're on our road, traveler,' the man driving called down to Max. He smiled to himself at the fact that the last two people he'd seen alive had both called him the same thing.
'I didn't know anyone owned this road,' Max said back.
'Where do you think you be goin, friend?' the Fat Man said, leaning one meaty forearm heavily on the arm of his chair.
'Just going for a walk,' Max replied.
The Fat Man chuckled, closely followed by laughter from his two guards and the driver.
'Nobody walks anymore,' the Fat Man chuckled again.
'There's nobody around anymore,' Max said.
'True enough,' the Fat Man said. He sucked at something in his teeth. 'Now, for the real, just where d'you think you be goin'?'
Max looked from the Fat Man to the others and back to the man in the chair.
'Someone told me paradise waits at the end of this road,' he said. The Fat Man said nothing. 'Do you know?'
'Know what?' the Fat Man said.
'What lies at the end of this road?' Max said.
'Yes, brother,' the Fat Man said. 'Something does lie at the end of this road here. Whether or not its paradise, that's in the eye of the beholder. But there is something there.'
Max nodded his head, and looked from the men down the road in the direction they came from.
'How long?' Max asked.
'How much water do you have?' the Fat Man asked.
'Half a canteen,' Max replied, shaking it in his hand. The men all chuckled again.
'You don't have near enough water to make it to yer paradise there, brother,' the Fat Man said.
'Maybe you could help me with that then,' Max replied. All the men burst out laughing, Max smiled as well.
'Favors come at a price, friend,' the Fat Man said.
'They always did,' Max replied.
'What do you have that I could possibly want?'
'Its not what I have,' Max said. 'Its what I can do for you. I offer you my services. And in return, a ride.'
The Fat Man stroked his chin, squinting.
'Who are you anyways? Who are you really?' the Fat Man leaned forward.
'I'm just a traveler,' Max said. 'The name's Max.'
One of the masked guards leaned down to the Fat Man. He whispered something in his ear and returned to his stoic position. The Fat Man stared down at Max, scowling.
'Max, huh?' the Fat Man said. 'You haven't been to Bartertown recently, have you?'
'Bartertown?' Max replied. 'Never heard of it.' The Fat Man smirked and Max smirked back.
'A ride,' the Fat Man said, as he stood up. He took a step towards Max and reached down a hand. 'For your services.'
Max nodded, took the Fat Man's hand and was pulled onto the platform. The Fat Man laughed when beside Max. He clapped him on the back, a cloud of dust smoked from Max's coat.
'Your paradise awaits,' the Fat Man laughed as he sat back in his chair. Max looked at the guard who'd whispered in the Fat Man's ear. He stood as still as possible. His face completely hidden behind his mask. Max couldn't tell where the guard was looking, but for a brief second, Max swore the guard nodded once at him.
The violent humming began again as the vehicle turned around and carried all of its passengers towards the horizon. Max sat on the platform, covered his face with the ragged black shirt, and watched their destination slowly move towards them. His curiosity led his eyes back towards the masked guard, who stared straight ahead, not looking down at Max for the remainder of the journey.