I wrote this one quickly, pretty stoked on it. I'm sorry if there are major spelling errors, I rushed it, trying to put it out before I head to work.
Let me know what you guys think!
"We don't have any supplies, no weapons," Honor whispered as the Warboys unlocked the Wives' door, opening it. Their keeper, Shank, stepped in, shoulders hunched forward as the tight skin drew his muscle tighter.
The boys were waning without their leader.
"We need nothing but enough gasoline to get across the sand to the Citadel. It's a mere hour's drive," Eve whispered back. "Has the Lord returned yet?" she spoke louder, toward their withering keeper.
"No, Fruitless, not yet," he muttered, coughing slightly.
"Have you caught an illness?" The Soft questioned, in a caring tone. She reached out to touch him, but he snapped away from her.
"The Lord will come, with water and food," he snapped. "Too many questions. Do your exercises before I place you back in your cages, pretty little breeders."
They said nothing as their stepped out into their outdoors court yard.
Hours passed as they walked circles in the sunlight. The Soft's hands braced her back as the weight of her belly pulled her spine forward. Her face turned up to the sky, her eyes shut. Honor sat against a stone wall of the courtyard, savoring the shade. And Eve stared through a chain link fence, at the garages a mere 30 feet from the courtyard.
Wayboys laid in the sun, some leaned against the searing steel, others half over the vehicles, napping in the shade. They looked thin, the water sucked from their skin.
Water had been rationed for two months, with no rigs showing up to trade water for gasoline. The city people suffered first, then the Warboys, and lastly the Wives. And the Wives had waited until the Warboys waned, knowing them to be too weak to truly fight back. This was their moment.
As dusk drew near, Shank, who had been napping against the door of the courtyard, rose and opened the door. His hand braced his body against the doorframe as the Wives passed him entering back inside. Honor first, then The Soft, followed slowly back Evening.
As soon as Evening crossed the threshold, in a heartbeat, she turned and pulled the courtyard door shut behind her, locking Shank on the outside.
"East corridor," she cried, shoving The Soft in the right direction. They ran from the screaming of Shank as he rattled the door.
It was mere moments later that sirens rang loudly, and the women sprinted faster, weaving in and out of corridors. With ease, Honor knocked weak Warboys out of their way as they approached them head on. And at some point she obtained one of their riffles and began firing her way out.
Eve held up the back, wrestling Warboys to the ground that came up behind them. Soon there was a mass behind them, yet the Wives were able to stay mere feet ahead of them, out of their grasp.
"Evening!" Honor cried, and Eve's head snapped forward, just in time to catch the riffle that Honor had thrown toward her. And she watched as Honor picked up speed, barreling through Warboys, and toward the exit.
Her body collided with the door and it snapped open. The women threw their bodies against it as soon as it was shut, holding the mass of weak Warboys back. But with one shove on the inside, The Soft tumbled forward.
"Get something to barricade the door with!" Eve cried, and The Soft scrambled to her feet and took off toward the garages.
Once entering them, she found them now empty, as the Wayboys had left to help contain the Wives. She scurried through them, searching for anything to use. She found an abandoned exhaust pipe laying beneath a massive rig and quickly scooped it up.
Turning, she collided with a painted Warboy, Ras, keeper of the garages.
"Hello breeder," he hissed, his hands flying up to her throat. She choked, dropping the exhaust pipe to claw at his hands.
As she began growing weaker, losing air, a shot rang through the garage, and she felt hot blood splatted across her face. Her eyes widened as she watched it spill from a gaping hole in the middle of the painted Wayboy's forehead, and his body fell to the sand.
The Soft quickly looked up, finding a massive man standing before her, his face covered in filth and fire in his eyes.
They were losing their strength, their backs bracing the door. The heels dug into the sand, their bodies slick with sweat. The pressure coming from the other side of the door got stronger as the Warboys tried to push their way out.
Honor turned her head toward Eve, tears dancing down her dark skin. "I can't hold on," she cried.
But Eve reached over and grasped her hand. "I won't let go, if you don't let go," she breathed. And Honor nodded and screwed her eyes shut.
Everything grew silent as they watched Warboys scaling walls and over buildings, like spiders from their holes. The pressure didn't cease, and Eve watched in horror as they drew nearer. The boys began sprinting across the sand toward them, chains and bags in hand.
"Don't let go," Eve breathed, eyes widening, grasping Honor's hand tighter.
And just as the boys were arm's length from them, gun shots rang out and the boys collapsed in front of them. And seemingly out of nowhere, a dark V8 rounded a corner and came to halt in front of them, crushing the collapsed Warboys beneath the wheels.
The passenger door flew open, and The Soft leaned out, crying and waving them toward the vehicle. And in an instant, Honor and Eve sprinted faster than they ever had before toward the car. A bullet ripped through the back of Eve's thigh and she stumbled forward.
Honor turned and grabbed her under the arms, Eve trying to run with her.
"Faster, faster!" The Soft cried, reaching her arms out.
Honor climbed into the back seat, and both her and The Soft pulled Eve in as well.
Eve's foot had barely left the ground before the vehicle lurched forward with a roar of the engine. Bullets riddled the sides of the vehicle, and the Wives covered their heads, Eve pulling The Soft close to her body.
Moments passed and the bullets grew fewer, but the driver didn't slow down. The Soft removed her shirt and they tied it around Eve's bleeding thigh. She hissed in pain at the pressure.
Eve lifted her head to look up at the driver, who was looking over their shoulder. Dark eyes met hers, and a hand found the top of her head and shoved it down.
"Stay down," the driver growled, in a near animal sound.
They hunkered low for a few more minutes until the driver slammed their foot on the gas, the V8 engine roaring in pleasure. Eve sat up fully then, looking out the back window to see a fleet of cars following behind them.
"I said stay down!" the driver cried, taking a hard turn, through the gate of Gastown. The roar lessened as the sand beneath the wheels absorbed the sound.
"Where are you taking us?!" Eve cried, climbing into the passenger seat.
The driver, with a hood pulled over their head, leaned back and pulled a riffle from the backseat. The driver said nothing for a moment, staring at the rear view mirror at the masses that followed. There was a long moment of silence.
"Can you drive?"
"What?" she asked, frowning.
"Can you drive?!" The driver snapped their head in her direction, and for the first time she caught a slight glimpse of their face.
A man. A man with dark, familiar eyes. And just as quickly as he had looked at her, he had looked away.
"Yes," she breathed. "Yes, I can drive!"
He grabbed her by the arm and dragged her into his lap. She quickly pressed her foot over his, onto the gas pedal, her eyes staring out at the sand, the sun now completed beneath the surface of the earth. He slid his foot out from beneath hers and climbed out from underneath her into the passenger seat.
"It's a straight shot. Don't make any turns. No matter what, drive straight," he spoke lowly, before rolling down the passenger window.
"Where are you taking us?" She repeated.
He froze, halfway out of the window.
"To freedom."
"Furiosa!" Toast cried, stepping away from the spyglass, mounted at the opening of the mountain. Her mouth fell open, staring at the chase that was rapidly approaching the Citadel.
Furiosa came running, stopping at the opening of the mountain to gaze out over the sand. The spyglass was no longer needed, as gun fire and flares lit up the skies. A lone vehicle raced across the sand, surrounded by two large rigs and three vehicles. The small fleet was catching up to the lone driver.
"What do we do?" Capable questioned, stepping beside Furiosa, gazing out with her.
She was silent for a moment.
"Ready the Rig."
Eve watched out of the rear view mirror as the man climbed across the back of the V8, his body swaying in accord with the jolts of the vehicle.
The fleet behind them wasn't large, led by the weak Shank, but their rigs were instruments of death. They roared behind them, like a victory cry of a beast closing in on its prey. Like The People Eater did when she birthed him a son, before it passed through the Gates of Valhalla.
She had just been a machine.
She pressed down on the gas medal, glancing up to see the driver now propping up a sniper rifle on his knee. They were accurate shots, delayed as he steadied it each time. But one by one, War Boys peeled from the sides of the pursuing rigs, getting crushed beneath their own tires.
Then as their numbers grew smaller, targets becoming a difficult feat of tracking, the driver turned and slammed his fist against the top of the V8. "Slow down!" he cried, and she obeyed.
She slammed on the breaks furiously, the impact causing him to slide over the top of the V8, rolling onto the hood. He grabbed onto the top of the hood, now face to face with her. He held a death grip, eyes widened in shock.
The vehicle came to a halt. The pursuing rigs flew past them, causing the V8 to sway with the pressure of the wind that passed. The War Boys cried, banging on the sides of their rigs, and they begin to slow down as well.
But Eve could only stare at the face before her, and he could only stare back.
"What are you doing?!" Honor cried, shaking Eve's shoulder furiously.
"They're turning around!" The Soft cried.
But Eve couldn't tear her gaze away from his dark eyes. Her face had slackened, her mouth slightly gaping as she stared. Gazed a hole into his face. Thick lips that had once formed mischievous grins while tugging at her hair, bristled jaw line that had once not been so thick, once could not bare hair. And eyes that would hold her own with dark meanings, as she would stare at him from a distance, in wonderment, in amazement, in fear.
"Max?" she whispered.
He smiled faintly, before knocking his knuckles on the glass and swiftly reaching an arm through the passenger window. Honor had climbed into the front and handed him a loaded bazooka.
"Drive!" he cried, turning back around, and Eve dropped her foot to the gas like a stone in water, and the Interceptor lunged forward in the sand.
Within moments, the War Rigs were surrounding them, the cries of excited War Boys and engines roaring. Explosions surrounded them, heating up the Eve's cheek. Glass shattered, cascading down on The Soft and Honor as they covered their heads in the back seat.
But Eve drove.
The V8 trailed behind one of the War Rigs that was slowing down to box their vehicle in, and Eve's heart began to race. They were slowly getting out numbered.
The War Rig in front of them swerved violently, opening a clearing. But as soon as the war Rig was out of view, Eve understand why.
A much larger one took its place, yet speeding in the opposite direction—coming straight toward them.
Eve gasped, slamming her foot on the brakes, and swerved violently. The side of her head slammed against the window, and everything started going fuzzy. She shook her head, attempting to shake away the fog that was beginning to cloud her vision.
Max climbed off the hood of the V8 and onto the War Rig that she had swerved away from, now driving in reverse beside them. A metallic hand had reached out and pulled Max aboard.
Eve could feel blood trickling down the side of her face, and she wondered if it was her own.
"There it is!" Honor cried, jutting a finger toward the Citadel, that was now a mere handful of miles from them.
Eve slammed her foot on the gas, harder than she had before, and the Interceptor pulled away from the rest of the pack. She didn't slow down, watching out the rear view mirror as the War Rig from the Citadel took down the Gastown rigs one after another. She continuously shook her head, trying to shake the fog away.
"Are you okay?" Honor asked, frowning at her.
Eve said nothing and drove straight. Soon the fleet was miles from them, erupting in flames, and the V8 pulled into the flat land surrounded by mountainous rocks.
She slammed on the brakes, and the V8 came to a halt.
They were silent for a moment, when the ground began to shift. Then began to raise. Honor glanced out the window at the platform they had stopped on, that was now lifting them from the sand.
Eve rolled her head back against the headrest, and shut her eyes.
Everything went black.
Thank you guys for any love! It is greatly appreciated!