Chapter 4

The sun beat down on the desert sands of Vacuo's edge, bathing everything in its harsh golden rays, even in the midst of March, the heat collecting on the black top, creating a haze over the land.

The sole paved road that ran through the dunes all the way to Vale was soon assaulted by the spinning tires of a vehicle, shortly followed by another, and another, and another, and another.

The lead car maintained its pace, only to shortly be gained on by the vehicle directly to its rear. Halcyone Lacquer, face covered in a shemagh and goggles, looked in the rear view mirror, before she stepped on the gas. The vehicle behind them was attempting a pit maneuver, and that would not end well. The crate full of Moonshine jars rattled in the back seat of the rat rod coupe, as the box filled with opium in the trunk slid around.

Old, but fast, the chromed car again started to pull ahead of its followers, the V6 engine gulping down octane in an attempt to speed up. But it wasn't enough.

In one swift motion, the chase car had gotten close enough for its passenger to lean out the window and throw a combustion dust impact grenade at the rear left tire of the coupe. The device detonated between the wheel and its flared well, the blast sending the old car into a roll, tossing it from the road into the sands.

The coup's airbags deployed, and its seat belts locked, sparring Halcyone from too devastating an injury. Bits of trash and loose rounds for her rifle were sent flying in every direction, as the glass from the windshield and windows broke into millions of pieces bouncing off of every surface in the vehicle's bare metal interior. Sand was flung into the air creating a hazy yellow cloud of silicon. The trunk flew open, the opium flew, and the jars of alcohol were thrown clear from the vehicle, landing in the wake of parts left by the car as it came apart in its death spiral.

Finally landing on its roof, the rat rod ceased its rolling, and a dazed Halcyone unstrapped themselves from the seat. Falling to the ground, Halcyone groaned, aura depleted from the rollover, before grabbing at the edge of the shattered window to pull themselves out of the vehicle, their left leg brace squeaking as they kicked themselves free.

The four vehicles that had been chasing Halcyone came to a halt at the edge of the road, and from the back seat of the last car in the convoy, a tall figure in leather boots, black pants, shirt, vest, duster, head sock, and a white skull mask with a built in breathing apparatus stepped out, placing a wide brimmed, flat top hat upon their head. Each footstep caused the spurs on his boots to rattle. His gloved hand came to rest on a single action .45 revolver on his left hip, shiny and chrome.

Halcyone reached for "Road Rage," the machete-rifle that had dug itself into the sand not a foot from their hand, before the figure in black kicked it away, and then crouched down in front of the wounded smuggler, the silver buckle on his waist belt coming into view, two snakes eating their tails, the bullets on his pistol belt each engraved with initials of who they were meant for. A big HL stood out at the forefront.

"Halcyone, how many times have I had to tell you this? Three things don't leave Vacuo without my say so. Dust, Shine, and Dope… So why am I on the border of Vale, baking in the sun, chasing after you, kid?" The man asked in a deep raspy voice, the jaw of his mask moving as he spoke, giving the unassuming man or woman the impression the mask was in fact his face. "Because if I remember right… This makes it the third time I've had to tell you. The first time, you got caught at the airport, my boys smacked you around, the second time, that piece of shit you bought broke down at the wall, and guess who towed you back home, and now here we are, your junk car destroyed…" The man's words were punctuated by the vehicle he pointed to spontaneously catching fire. "My product you tried profiting off of, scattered in the sand. And to top it all off, you've run out of favors…" The man said, pulling the revolver off his hip with his right hand. "So go ahead and beg for your life." He said, inserting the bullet marked HL into the cylinder, and pointing the gun at Halcyone's head. The smuggler reached out and grabbed the man's boot, only for him to sigh. "Kid, you ain't got the aura to spare…"

Halcyone dropped their hand into the sand, and looked up at the masked man, then pulled the goggles and scarf away, revealing the shrapnel scarred face of a woman who could be easily mistaken for a young man, soon to be 17, her left eye clouded over.

"Come on Black, you promised. Promised I'd be able to make enough money to go to a huntsman academy." Halcyone said, only for the now named Black to shrug.

"Never said it had to be the most expensive of them all." Black said.

"Come on man, this run would have been the last one, I'd have made enough money to pay for tuition at Beacon… And I'd have given you ya' cut, with interest, yeah?" Halcyone pleaded.

"If you'd have never bought that piece of shit, you'd have had the money months ago. And either way getting caught at the border of Vale is not something The Cobras need on our wrap sheet right now." Black said in a hiss.

"It was just a few lien more, Black. I could have been free. 50 more lien was all I needed." Halcyone said. Reminding him of one of the only ways out of The Cobras…

Black looked at the destroyed car, then at the horizon, then finally to the edge of the desert, where the sand turned to a savanna, and shortly beyond, the forests bordering Vale. "Damn it Lacquer… Alright, how about we cut a deal. I pay you for that piece of scrap you call a vehicle, take off the price of the product you wasted, and the fuel it took to drive out here, and give you a ride. In exchange, I don't ever want to see you again." Black said, putting his revolver back in its holster. "Should come out to about 80 lien." Black said, offering a hand to Halcyone.

After a moment, Halcyone took the offered hand, and was pulled to her feet. "Where's the extra 30 comin' from?" She asked, only for Black to punch her in the face, breaking her nose, and causing her to fall back into the sand.

"To pay for your dry cleaning." Black said, before kneeling down and stuffing a few lien cards in Halcyone's pocket, watching as she bled all over her undershirt and leather jacket, shortly before fading into unconsciousness. Black waved his hand and two of his men began dragging her into the trunk of the nearest vehicle, as the driver grabbed the machete rifle from the sand. "Stay safe kid. The world's gonna need ya." Black thought as the car drove off.

Halcyone had woken up inside of the car's trunk, and started kicking the nearest interior panel with her good leg, shouting curses the entire time before daylight stung her good eye, as the trunk was opened. "Ya' fucken' drongos, I'mma rip ya' cocks off and root ya' with 'em!" She yelled, as the three gang members took her by her arms and legs as she flaked around. "I'll fucken' kill ya'!" She cursed, before the three threw her to the dirt on the side of the forest road, and got back into the car, as the driver pointed her weapon out the window towards her. The driver scowled before hitting the gas, and dropping the rifle.

With a growl, Halcyone ran over to her rifle, picked it up, and repeatedly pulled the trigger of the semi auto, emptying the 30 round magazine at the speeding car. Once the gun ran dry, she grabbed her crotch with her left hand and tugged up twice. "Ya' fucken sods!"

Calming down, Halcyone turned around, and saw the road sign behind her. "Vale. 5 miles…" She sighed. "The cunts stuffed me in a boot, and couldn't even drive me the whole way there."