Twelve

The Immortan Joe didn't deal with grief well. It wasn't something he experienced very often, but when he did, he took it out on others, and right now, all of his rage and sadness was directed straight at Warbird. She really couldn't tell if he was genuinely upset over the loss of Angharad or if he was just being selfish, but she really couldn't afford to care about the distinction, especially while bound and gagged next to what used to be Joe's most prized possession.

He had made quick work of subduing her-not that there was much to subdue—and she really couldn't tell where they were or what was going on as she sat in the corner, trying not to breathe in the smell of blood and death that was filling up the cramped space. She was exhausted, and whatever fire once burned inside of her was dwindling down to the tiniest flame possible. It wasn't quite out yet, but it definitely felt like it was. Her limbs ached, her head throbbed, she was sweaty and gritty with sand, and she truly, honestly, just wanted to go home.

It was still so ironic, how she was finally out in battle but wishing for anything else. This wasn't like any other time she had ever gone out on the Fury Road; this was miserable, and full of pain—her pain—and just downright horrible. None of her boys were there to help. Nobody was on her side. She was completely, utterly alone, something that she was never used to. Okay, sure, she knew what being alone was like, but never like this, never so…isolated. It was unsettling, the way that she couldn't move at the head of some kind of formation, or give out any orders, or regroup with anyone. It didn't help that the Organic Mechanic was peacefully ignoring her, cleaning his knives while Miss Giddy cried over Splendid.

So yeah, that fire was going out a little bit more every minute.

Warbird felt the Gigahorse slow to a stop and heard her blood rushing in her ears. She began struggling to stand up, that little flame trying and trying its hardest to keep burning, but as soon as she managed to find any kind of footing and even get her bearings, Joe burst in and seized her arm, dragging her outside. When she landed with a thud, she discovered that they were quite literally stuck in the mud, every single car stopped while war boys tried to get them moving again.

Joe let go of her and just stood there for a moment, watching her over his mask, breathing heavily with the effort of pulling her out of the car. She didn't know what to do, and she was too disoriented to figure out anything other than standing up again now. The boys around them were all shouting over the sound of engines, no one voice cutting above the others. They just melted into one loud drone, loud enough that they couldn't be ignored but stale enough that there was nothing to listen to.

"This is your fault!" Joe shouted, striking Warbird across the face hard enough to send her stumbling and falling backwards into the mud just as she was beginning to get her footing for the second time. The gag in her mouth loosened and slipped down around her chin just in time for her to split her lip.

Her face hit the cold ground and she squeezed her eyes shut as the slop splashed over her head. Joe grabbed her again, this time by the back of the shirt, and pulled her up out of the mud only to hit her again, this time cuffing her ear. Everything started ringing, but she managed not to fall this time, despite her bound hands and lack of balance. She wanted to clutch her ear, or her face, or anything, really, and she couldn't differentiate between mud and blood as everything ran down her neck.

"I didn't-do anything," she panted, stumbling away a few steps.

"Liar," Joe hissed, stomping after her and grabbing her by the front of her shirt to pull her close. All of his movements were quick and rough, not calculated in any way. It was a tantrum.

He took her face in his hand, holding her still when she tried to look away. "Cripple." With that, Joe shoved her away, kicking her in the stomach when she went down onto her side before turning away.

Warbird almost immediately began coughing, her abdomen tightening every time she convulsed. Liquid jumped up into her mouth, hot and metallic. As she strained her neck to look up, blinking through the mud coating her face, she spat out a glob of blood.

"Fuck you."

Joe froze, and Warbird realized that the boys around them had fallen quiet. "I have no patience for this."

"Then just kill me!" she shouted, baring her teeth as more blood filled her mouth.

"A waste of time."

The war boys had been watching the altercation for a while, and none of them really knew what to do. They had no idea what joe was so upset about, and most of them had been confused about Warbird the entire trip, wondering why exactly she wasn't with them and what she had done to make him so mad.

So...what now? They all knew her-or knew of her-and liked her. They respected her. They admired her. But they worshipped Joe...he was their leader, practically a god-King, just a step down from V8. They all wanted to be closer to him and gain his favor, because then, obviously, they could go to Valhalla. He sometimes promised to carry them if he was the one to witness their deaths, and that's all they ever wanted. They lived for that glory, because what else was there to live for? They were all living half lives anyway, their bodies breaking as the clock ticked and their time ran out. A glorious death was the only thing they could really look forward to. It gave them a sense of purpose.

But they had just watched their all-powerful leader hurt one of their own. She was already hurt, and he had made it worse. What did that mean? Did they follow him? He hadn't given any orders yet now that his bride was dead and the rig was disappearing into the distance, and as they all sat around and began looking at each other, their confusion only mounted. She had stood against him, hadn't she? ...why? What was the point in doing so? There was no reason to. They were all happy enough with him...except for how he had treated her.

Warbird was still on the ground, straining to stand up. Her legs only worked so much, and her hip was a broken record by now, but she was going to start inhaling mud if she stayed where she was, and that seemed worse than the pain.

As she struggled, someone began helping her up, grabbing under her arms to hoist her into the air. Her head hung limply as she was lifted, her chest still heaving with the effort of breathing. Her insides were hurting, and blood just kept coming up over and over. When it wasn't all the way to her mouth, it was in her throat and pooling in her lungs, constantly reminding her of its presence.

"C'mon," the war boy behind her said as she slumped against him. "That's it." he dragged her through the mud to his car, pulling her in so that she could sit down on something other than the ground.

The others slowly crept up around the open door, peering inside. One of them grabbed a rag and brought it to Warbird, carefully cleaning her face off while she continued coughing. The boy that had picked her up at first was sitting on the seat next to her, pulling her hair out of her face as she continued hacking.

She looked up to see the expectant eyes of a dozen or more war boys and raised a shaky hand up to wipe her mouth off. "Rough day."

They weren't buying the humor.

"What did you do?" one of them asked quietly.

She looked at him tiredly. "Got in over my head."

"How?" he was young.

She looked down and shrugged, shaking her head. "It just started with a conversation."

"With?" he was barely older than a pup.

"The brides."

The boys all looked at each other uneasily.

"I only visited once. Furiosa made that plan...she said she needed my help. Joe found out and then Rictus tossed me around." she looked up at them again. "But you remember that."

"Then what?" she knew him, but she remembered his face being much smaller, much rounder than it was now.

"I saw 'em again, and then everything started, and then it all went downhill...they wanted me to stop you."

"Why?" she remembered him as a child filled with innocence, never having seen war.

"All of you. To buy more time. I couldn't even if I wanted to."

"...Why?" he had been one of her pups.

She looked that one war boy right in the eyes with some of the last strength she had left. "You're my boys."

He stared back at her. "You're our Warbird."

She let out a weak laugh that quickly devolved into a small coughing fit. "I failed you. I'm nothing."

"No." he reached forward and took her hand, blood smearing onto his fingers. "You're a hero."

Her brow furrowed in confusion. "I'm unworthy of Valhalla. I'm going to die a stupid and mediocre dea-"

"Even Slit wouldn't think so."

"You know he would."

"This is pointless." An older war boy said.

"What is?" Another asked.

"All this," he said, spreading his arms out. "Stuck'n the mud, runnin' after the rig. It's gone. Ain't catchin' it now."

"Well what else are we supposed to do?" Someone snapped. "This is what Joe wants. I ain't a traitor."

"Joe killed his own wife!"

"You're questioning him?" he asked angrily

"Maybe I am."

"This ain't the way into Valhalla, is it?" A boy in the back said.

"It's a battle. Ain't that all that matters?"

"We should be killin' buzzards, not fucking around with this. The rig's gone. It ain't comin' back, and we ain't getting' outta this shit." he kicked at the ground, mud splashing up. "And now we gotta deal with those Gastown creeps…."

Warbird had to admit he was right. They were definitely creeps.

"Look, all I'm sayin' is…" he was scrambling for words.

"What?" the older boy asked, looming behind him. "Is everyone fucking traitors now? Is that it?"

"Shutcha trap," another older boy said. "Go work on that motor. We got bigger shit to worry about. Go on, get." he began shooing him away and a few others followed suit, mumbling to each other as they went back to their cars.

"Need anything?" the young boy in front of Warbird asked.

"Water?" she asked hopefully.

"Mother's milk. Otherwise, the closest we got here is mud." he laughed at his own joke and stood up. "Be right back."

She started coughing again, blood still oozing from between her lips with every heave. "Fuck."

"You need to relax," the boy behind her said, pulling her a bit further into the car with him so that he could lean against the far door while she slumped against him. "Till we can get Organic Mechanic here, you've got to fix yourself."

"I don't know how to do that," she said weakly. "I can't fix anything."

"Yes you can. You're Warbird, ain't ya? Unless I've been wrong this whole time."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're made of metal and fire. You drink and sweat guzzoline. You're covered up in oil, 'cause you need it to 're more machine than any of us."

Warbird didn't have much of a chance to reply before the young war boy came running back, excitement all over his face as he handed her a pouch of milk. "Bullet Farmer's hit!"

"What're you on about?" the boy behind Warbird asked.

"That blood bag must've got him. He's blind."

"Shit," Warbird said quietly as she did her best to sip the milk without choking.

"Blood bag's a good shot," the boy behind her agreed.

"Wish he'd do that to People Eater." she said flatly.

"Why?"

"He tried to...buy me once." she said amidst a few coughs. "Wanted an-another wife."

The younger boy wrinkled his nose. "But you're not a wife."

"Yeah, because Joe wouldn't trade me." the one good thing he'd done for he, she realized. "Otherwise I'd be dead by now."

That was it. The one time the Immortan Joe had actually helped her, the one time he had been worth something to her. It was only because she was valuable to him. He only kept things he could use, she realized, and that's why she was no longer worth any ounce of his time. When war boys thought that something was unfair, it meant that it was really, really unfair, and right now, what had happened to her was apparently one of the most unfair things of all, judging by the way they were acting so cautiously all of the sudden.

The younger war boy, Clutch, eventually left, having been called by his driver to try and get the car out of the mud again now that there were free chains to use. The sky was dark and the air was cold, and Warbird was grateful for the older war boy sitting in the car with her. His name was Axle, and he had been a black thumb before enlisting from the workforce, which explained why Warbird didn't know him. He was bigger than most of the others, closer to Rictus's height than any war boy she could think of, but right now, all that mattered was that he was warm.

And he was protecting her.

He was dozing, but Warbird couldn't sleep. Everything was hurting more and more, and while she was getting used to it, that didn't make the night any easier to get through. It seemed like her problems were just mounting up now, and all she could do was sit there and try to remember how to breathe. She was wheezing, a disgustingly loud noise when everything else was dead silent, and, with her luck being as shit as it was lately, it attracted the unsavory company that was the People Eater's personal war boys.

"Well, well," one of them rasped, putting a hand up to the roof of the car as he leaned in through the busted window. "You're still alive, eh?"

"Fuck off," she hissed.

"Not a very nice way to greet somebody. 'Specially since it doesn't seem like you're in a position to be rude right now." he grinned and opened the door so that he could come back and lean in over her. "Bet People Eater really missed out on you, didn't he?"

"Yeah," his buddy said, leaning in behind him. "Would've been a great deal."

"Then maybe he would've passed you around for a share before…." he drew his finger across his throat.

"I'm an imperator!" she said as loudly as she could. Apparently it wasn't loud enough to wake Axle, and now that she was out of breath from the effort, she was already regretting it.

"Come on, we saw what happened. You're not Joe's imperator anymore. You're nothing to him now."

"But hey, there's some good news. People Eater doesn't have you, so we get you all to ourselves…."

"This isn't exactly winning me over," she managed to squeeze out.

"We don't gotta win you. Just...take you." they cackled as one grabbed her bad leg. She barely managed to kick at him, struggling to keep him away from her. This was the kind of thing that terrified her the most.

The kicking finally woke Axle and he sat forward, leaning past Warbird with a deadly look in his eyes. The Gas Town boys froze, staring at him as he leaned toward them. They stumbled backwards, falling over each other as they tried to put a safe distance between themselves and the car.

"Why're you getting her all to yourself?" one of them called when they finally decided they were out of the danger zone.

"Go away, meat heads." Axle yelled. He kept one eye on them and the other on Warbird as she began coughing again. "You okay?"

"Define that," she growled.

"Did they hurt you?"

"No."

"So you're okay?"

"I guess." she coughed a final time and laid back against him. "This is shit."

"What are going to do?" he asked as he settled himself again.

"Why the hell are you asking me?" she asked in irritation. "I'm fucking useless right now."

"I figured you have the best ideas. You know more than everybody, anyways."

She closed her eyes. "I just want this to be over with."

"What exactly happened?"

"Furiosa told the wives about the green place, whatever the hell that is." she was quiet for a moment. "They decided they wanted to leave, especially Angharad, so they waited until she could take the rig."

Axle wrinkled his nose. "Didn't she know we'd come?"

"Oh, she knew. She did it anyways, and now here we are." she sighed. "I know they were unhappy...I would be too if I were them, but…"

"They're breeders. It doesn't matter if they're unhappy, does it?"

"They're girls." she snapped. "They're people."

"Breeding is their job."

She tried to sit up. "If people who can have babies are supposed to have babies, then why did you just make those Gas Town boys leave?"

"Cause you're not a person who's supposed to have babies. Duh."

Warbird made a noise of irritation. "I would've been like them if I wasn't broken like this. Could've been me under those tires earlier."

"No...you're a war boy."

This wasn't getting anywhere anytime soon. "You know Joe doesn't love them, right?"

Axle shrugged. "I guess it doesn't really matter. They're his."

"So if you were a warlord, and you could have wives, would you?"

He laughed loudly. "Well, yeah. Warlords are the only people with wives. 'Course I would have at least one."

"Would you love her, or would you just force her to have your children?"

He was quiet for a moment. "Love...isn't really real."

"Why?"

"It's something you trick yourself with. Look around. Where's the love?" He shook his head. "I love doing what I do, but that isn't love. Maybe a long time ago before the wars love was something people really had."

Warbird was starting to think differently. "I think maybe it is real. I don't know, though."

"Do you love Nux?"

"What? No!"

He grinned. "You feel something there, don't you?"

"I thought you said love isn't real."

"But you do, don't you?"

"...No." she said defensively.

Axle closed his eyes again. "Whatever. I'm going to sleep. Wake me up if anymore assholes show up."

Warbird grunted in response and shut her eyes as well. She totally didn't love Nux. She just...really liked his company. That was all. Besides, she had bigger things to worry about right now, like how she was going to survive the next few days. Love, if that's what it was, could definitely wait.

That's what she kept telling herself as she tried to fall asleep: it can wait. Right?