Thunder Road

“Kind of,” Ryan replied quickly, then told her of their brief encounter with the mystery rider the previous day.

When he finished, she laughed bitterly. “You got off lightly, mister. Shit, you don’t know how lucky you are.”

“Was he on his own, or were there others?”

She fixed him firmly with a stare. “You won’t think it right, mister, but there was no one but him. No one. I tell you, there’s no one left living here who’s ever seen anything like it. Or would want to again.”

Ryan whistled softly. “Coldheart bastard must have one hell of an armory on that bike. Tell me everything you can, from the beginning.”

“You sayin’ that you’re gonna get him for us?” she asked with what was a palpably sardonic tone.

“No, I’m not saying that. I won’t lie to you. But mebbe he’s like a mad dog that needs chilling before it bites anyone else. We’ll see. Tell me everything, first.”

She nodded firmly. “Fair enough. But bear in mind that no matter how hard it is to believe, I ain’t making any of it up. Or exaggerating, either.”

And she began to tell him of the previous day.

“DAYS AROUND HERE GO much the same, no matter what. Guess they change with the seasons, mebbe even with the weather, but other than that there ain’t much to disturb us. This ville’s been here since skydark, and we ain’t rich in jack, like some. Nor have we got much in the way of growing stuff. But we get by ’cause we can trade a little.

“And we don’t get no trouble, either. A lot of these places, they got people buying the farm every day, people blasting each other for no reason. Now that’s their business, if they want to chill each other for no reason, but we’ve always kinda stuck together here. When there ain’t much to go around, you tend to look out for those next to you in case you need them to look out for you next.

“We were all going about our business like usual. The sun had just hit its peak, and it was no better or worse than any other day. Then we get word that this wag is coming to the ville. Really eating up the dirt, great clouds behind it. Faster than anything we’d ever seen come through here before. No one on the edges could explain what it was. Guess that’s why we was all so curious. Nothing like something new to get you talking, right?” She gave a bitter cough of a laugh. “Shit, wish the coldheart bastard had just carried right on by.

“Anyway, it was obvious that the wag was comin’ through here, and being as it was unlike anything we’d seen, mebbe we figured that it might have something on it for trade or jack. We get the same traders through here all the time, someone new, some fresh blood, would be more than welcome. Reason I tell you that is to explain why so many people were in the center of the ville when the wag came in…’Cept it was no wag, but a bike. Weird-looking fucker—wheels big, like wag wheels, but it moved like a bike. Rider guided it in and pulled it up quick with a turn that he shouldn’t have been able to do. Anyway, it was real impressive. Word had been spreading while it was approaching, so it was pretty full in the center, everyone crowding around to get a good look. There was stuff on the bike—lotta blasters, but also stuff that looked like packs, so mebbe he was some kinda solo trader. Dressed odd, threads like I ain’t seen before, kinda shiny. Not hide or skin, but not wool or cottons, either. And he had these big, dark goggles on, like the kind you see sec men wearing on trade convoys, but more, y’know? There was something going on with them, but I don’t know what. Only know that we had no idea what was about to happen.

“He takes off the goggles and looks around at everyone. No one says anything as there’s this kinda weird feel about the whole thing. It’s not like he’s threatened us, so no one has gone for their blasters, but it’s not like he’s there to do us any favors. Y’know what it felt like? Felt like everyone breathed in and held it, waiting for him to speak. And then when he did, no one could understand what the fuck he was talking about.”

Ryan stopped her with a gesture. “What do you mean? It was another language? What?”

The woman shook her head, then spit on the ground. “It was the same language we speak, boy, but not how we speak it. The words we could recognize, but not what they meant. Y’know when someone gets sick in the head?”

Ryan, thinking of Doc and starting to see what she meant, nodded.

“Yeah, well, it was kinda like that. The words made a kinda sense, but not what you could make out straightaway…I dunno, it was just…”

“Can you remember what he said?” Ryan asked.

She looked at him. He could see in her eyes that she would never forget. She began to intone, as though dragging them wholesale from memory.

“‘Good people, I am Thunder Rider. I have come to deliver justice and peace. For too long there has been lawlessness in the land. There have been crimes committed against the good people of this and many other villes that have gone unpunished. The good and true cower in the shadow of evil. No longer shall the criminal go unpunished for his crimes. I have come to be your protector. You know who these wrongdoers are, and you stand in fear of them as they have greater strength, greater callousness, greater evil. You may fear no more, as I have a strength far greater than any they may possess. I carry with me the sword and shield of justice, and it is swift and sure. Vengeance will be yours, and I shall be the instrument. Turn your criminals over to me, and I shall deal with them, restoring peace and justice to your lands.’”

She stopped and fixed Ryan with a gaze that was defiant and bemused at the same time. “C’mon, One-eye, what kinda crazy stupe shit is that? What the fuck is a ‘crime’?”

Ryan knew from old books about the concept of crime, which went hand-in-hand with the idea of law and order. But they lived in a world where such ideas had no place, which made the idea of the man on the bike triple screwed. Where had he gotten such ideas, and how did he think they applied to this world? But the one-eyed man said nothing of this. Instead he merely prompted, “What happened then?”

She shook her head. Now, she could not catch his eye, the memories too fresh and painful. In the past twenty-four hours there had been no time to think about it. Now she had to. Her voice cracked as she continued.

“No one did anything. What was there to do? We were all confused, didn’t know what the hell he was talking about. Everyone was looking at everyone else, not knowing whether we should just blast the fucker and be sure. But there was something about him. He just didn’t look like it’d be that easy to chill him, even though he was way, way outnumbered. Anyway, it must’ve been only a few moments before he spoke again. He said, ‘So, you choose to ignore me. You choose the ways of lawlessness. I offer you protection, and you spurn me. Very well, those who side with the lawless shall pay as those they condone.’ And then it started.”

She stopped for a moment, gathering herself. Ryan waited, keeping down his impatience. He wanted to know every detail; she may not know herself what she was telling him, but he would be able to work it out. This was a chance to discover what weaponry Thunder Rider possessed, what kind of ordnance had wreaked such havoc.

“He must have known that his words would make some of us fight. It was hard to understand most of what he said, but by the end it was pretty fucking well clear that he was gonna blast the shit out of us. He took a blaster out of a holster on his hip, a big long-barreled thing, and fired at the first man in his way. It was like the blood and shit that flew everywhere just shocked us more. Shoulda made us run, fight, something…Instead we stood there, triple stupe, slack-jawed like some buncha mutie inbreds. Easy meat, One-eye…” She stopped, gathering herself. Then, “Before any of us was smart and fast enough to react, he’d taken this big blaster rifle from the side of the bike.

“We were scattering. Some were firing as they ran, but we were spooked like horses. I guess most of the shots went into our own people. Nothing seemed to hit the rider. Calm, like nothing was happening—I saw him, like a stupe I couldn’t take my eyes away—he turns around to the bike and reaches into the packs. Had this strange little blaster he took out, looked like it had tin cans in it. He pulled his goggles down, then fired the little blaster over our heads. It hit one of the buildings, side-on. Exploded like a gren, bits of wall flying all over us, but it was more than that. Gas—no, like gas but not like it. It was like there was gas but with liquid in it. Orange. Stained the walls, spread like an orange mist, and as it came down it burned those it fell on. Most of those burned by it have bought the farm, but some are still living. Better off chilled, if you ask me, but you can’t just let them…”

She paused again, gathering herself. “I got lucky. The first gren of orange mist fell away from where I was standing. Shit, when I saw it burn, I ran. No way did I want that on me. I managed to get to cover, watched the rest. I shoulda done something, but I didn’t know what. And I was scared. Like some fucking madman, he just stands there, saying nothing. Real careful, like he was totally in control, he fires at all the buildings, picking those on the corners of the streets with the most people jammed in ’em to start with. People falling over each other, pissing themselves with fear. Easy meat…

“When the mist is falling, and people are burning, and there’s brick and stone and shit raining down, with all the buildings on fire, he takes the long-barreled blaster again and starts to pick off men at random. Then he stops, nods to himself like he’s just been told to stop and gets back on the bike.

“No one’s fired back, One-eye. No one. Can you believe that? All so…frightened? Froze in fear? I dunno…He just gets on the bike, revs the fucker up and rides out. Weaving past the bricks, the chilled, the orange shit on the ground, just like none of it’s there. Just like he hasn’t just taken out our entire ville.

“So he’s gone, and we have to pick up the pieces and try to fix it as new.” She laughed bitterly, hawked and spit.

“You wanted to know what happened? That’s what happened, One-eye.”

WHEN THEY RETURNED to the center of the ville, Mildred and Krysty had been able to start making some small difference. The path between the debris had also been improved by small teams under the direction of J.B. and Jak. They had only children to help them, the women being occupied in the infirmary, but the youth of the ville were wiry and strong. Doc, meanwhile, had continued his single-minded pursuit of his task, and his white hair was plastered to his scalp, his coat long since discarded in a heap, shirtsleeves rolled up.

Ryan paused for a moment, looking at the carnage with a fresh eye. The mystery rider had done this with no help, and with an armory that could comfortably be carried on a bike—a big bike, admittedly, but still one smaller than a wag. His words, which had seemed as so much stupe trash to the woman, made a kind of sense to the one-eyed man. The guy was crazy, sure. But crazy with a hell of an armory. That made him a triple-red threat.

Thing was, could they take him on? He hadn’t promised the woman that they’d go after him, but if they were offered a reward? They were in no position to turn down jack or supplies. Moreover, Ryan had felt his instinct for self-preservation tugging at him. They’d already encountered the rider once, and by the sound of it they’d got lucky. Mebbe they wouldn’t be so lucky a second time, and there was inevitably going to be a second time. Trouble followed them, there was no denying. So mebbe it would be for the best to hunt it down and face it before it came up behind and caught them unawares.

His reverie was interrupted by Jak.

“Ryan, careful orange dirt,” the albino said without preamble. “Look…”

He held out his hand. There was a smear of orange mud against the white skin of his palm, and showing around the smear was a red weal, blistering at the edges.

“Get Mildred to look at that,” Ryan said.

Jak grinned. “Gonna—not before show you, though. Some chem shit, stays burning a day after going off? Not seen before.”

“Just got the story from her,” Ryan said softly, indicating the woman who had returned to joining Doc’s quest to deliver water. “Fill you all in later. This was our rider, and he’s one mad coldheart by the sound of it.”

Jak gave the briefest of nods, turned and went across to the infirmary. Ryan took his place in clearing rubble and caught the expression on Mildred’s face as she examined Jak’s chem burn.

There would be much to discuss later.

BY THE TIME THE SUN had sunk and the cold night chilled their bones, the companions were exhausted. They went back to where they had tied up the wag and horses.

Almost everyone else had stayed in the center of the ville. A few stragglers returned to their homes; most wanted the security of staying close together. The house where the wag was tethered remained empty. Whether the occupant had been chilled, they did not know.

And it didn’t matter, except that it gave them the privacy they needed to talk about what had happened, and how it affected them. Ryan began by repeating what the woman had told him. They listened in silence. When he finished, and without comment, Mildred added her opinion of the burn she had seen on Jak’s hand. She told them about napalm, and how she had felt when they first entered the ville.

When she finished, no one wanted to be the first to speak.

“I suppose the real question here is, do we see ourselves as knights errant,” Doc said eventually. “I suspect that is what has been playing on your mind, Ryan.”

“You’re kind of right, Doc,” the one-eyed man replied. “I feel like we need to go after this coldheart before he comes after us. And I feel like if we do that, we can mebbe get what we need from here…the things we came here for in the first place.”