PAWGS: Field Trip
“Don’t say he never gets you anything,” said the homunculus beneath her father’s lab coat.
Chela opened her eyes, one natural, one bionic, and took in the buggy gleaming in the searchlight from the tallest tower of the castle.
“You gotta be fucking kidding me?” she said.
The Father scratched the skin of his stomach where the homunculus had been grafted. It smelled like decaying milk.
“You’ve been an obedient girl lately,’ he said, ‘worked hard to develop your skill set and refrained from unnecessary violent behaviour with the local children.”
“The local kids are scum who hate mutants. Screw ‘em.”
The Father raised an eyebrow.
“The puritans would burn this castle down if they were not so afraid of what lurks inside,’ said the homunculus, ‘don’t antagonise them so that their hatred overrides their fear.”
She rubbed her fingernail between her teeth, spat on the floor, nodded then jumped into the driver’s seat.
“Right then,’ she said, ‘let’s get this thing on the fucking move.”
The homunculus pointed to the device in The Father’s hands.
“All in good time,’ said The Father, ‘Ms Trounce has advised me that your school trip will be no longer than 72 hours, so that leaves you ample time to return here within your usual seven-day limit.”
“Yes, Father,” said Chela.
“Exceed the limit and you know what happens.”
“Yes, Father,” said Chela.
“For my records, how is the metal plate in your head?”
Chela rubbed her eyes and temples.
“Getting migraines,” she said.
“It could be your regenerative abilities constantly trying to expunge it, could be something else. We’ll investigate when you return.”
The Father clicked a button on the controller, opening the gates to the castle. He clicked another button and nodded at Chela. She grinned and started the buggy.
“Now, don’t drive fast or dangerously unless necessary,” said The Father.
The buggy burst down the winding mountain path before her father had finished his sentence.
Chela drove her buggy with the pink ribbon still tied around it towards the location of her friends. She put a cassette into the tape player causing noise to erupt into the black sky. Her nose screwed in a grimace and she switched it off, settling into the engine growl of her new machine instead. With her oversized scorpion claw she held the steering wheel steady as she popped open a small bottle of beer from the top pocket of her dungarees, spat out the window then downed a mouthful of the harsh liquid as she roared past the insular village of Sorrowsong towards the Desert of Twisted Limbs.
Babs Tabasco sat outside the wooden hut in the mountains overlooking the sludge sea on one side and the Desert of Twisted Limbs on the other. She pulled an oversized black and red jumper over her faded dungarees and purple hoodie. Behind her identical twins were lacing the boots of the other and a lithe olive-skinned girl was in the Downward Facing Dog stretch. Beside a small campfire a thin girl in a large green parka shivered into a mug of soup whilst an overweight girl undressed.
“Dunno, why you wear all that baggy shit when you have tits like that,” said Sindy ‘Sickie’ Malone stirring the cup of soup.
“Shit, you’d still have to wear this shit even if you did have massive tits, because you always catch cold, or are cold, or trying to prevent a cold,” said Babs tying her red hair into bunches.
“Mine look like someone sucked the juice out with a vacuum,” said Sickie.
“Your whole body looks like that,” said Puffy squeezing into a red latex dress.
Sickie rolled her eyes.
“Puffy, you look like someone forgot to inflate you completely, all those ripples,” said Babs.
“Pockets, baby, pockets,’ said Puffy adjusting the dress like lava flowing over a sierra, ‘loads of chaps are ready to dive into this.”
“Bet most fucking drown,” said Babs under her breath.
“What?” said Puffy.
“Said, I think Chela’s on her way, can see dust down there,” said Babs.
Sickie put a telescope to her sunken eye. A buggy churned its way along the narrow path towards them.
“You’re right,’ said Sickie, ‘it is her I think, driving a bit fast if you ask me.”
“That girl is straight up mental,” she said.
Two girls with long purple hair joined them.
“Not her,” said Tiffany Terror, the one on the left.
“She’s so boring,’ said Rain Terror, the one on the right.
Sickie and Babs exchanged an eye roll. Puffy scratched between her legs then shook herself out.
“Didn’t fully drip dry,’ she said, ‘anyway girls, you’re just jealous because she has the life force of both of you in her tiny frame.”
“Mutant life force,” said the two girls simultaneously.
Puffy, Sickie and Babs shared an eyeroll at the expense of the Terror Twins.
Chela hopped the buggy towards the hut and pulled a skid churning grey dust at the row of girls watching her. She laughed and leapt out of the seat.
“You guys up for a field trip or what?” she said rubbing her hand and pincer together.
The girls crowded around Chela and her new buggy.
“I’m surprised your dad got you that,” said Babs.
Chela held one finger over a nostril and blew a snot missile to the dirt.
“He lets me out for ‘wholesome, group survival activities’, plus I believe he and Trounce have some other deals going on. Don’t think he’d be so quick to let me out in the buggy if I was meeting a boy.”
A bullish woman in her 50s appeared in the doorway of the wooden shed, dressed in a khaki top and shorts with a scout hat. She hooked her thumbs into her waistband and lifted her stomach and coughed. The girls immediately stopped talking and formed a line.
“Ahoy girls,” she said.
“Ahoy Scoutmaster Trounce,” said the line of girls.
Trounce positioned herself in front of the row of latex, dungarees, badly dyed hair and attitude.
“Hope you girls are ready for our PAWGS field trip?” she said.
The girls cheered. Trounce raised a baton settling them down. She waited a few moments.
“The plan is to set out in the Twerk Machine and survive the desert and whatever it throws at you for the next 72 hours, utilising the various skills and badges you have earned, so campfire building, cooking, hunting, tracking and so forth will see you in good stead.”
The girls all grinned.
“Of course, it should be stated that in a world recovering from the effects of a multiple apocalyptic orgasm that all manner of predator - animal, mutant or human, should be prepared for and expected. That’s where you can employ the various self-defence badges, knot tying, advanced weaponry, evasive tactics and so on.”
The girls all winked and raised their eyebrows at each other.
“You girls will set out on your own and return here in 72 hours.”
Babs raised her hand.
“You mean you ain’t coming, miss?”
Trounce shook her head. The line of girls lost themselves in positive proclamations, fist pumping and hand slapping.
“If I hadn’t been your age once, I would take that reaction as an insult,’ said Trounce, ‘however, I was your age and I managed out there alone. It is crucial in your development as PAWGS to brave the harsh world alone. So please ensure those of you who have parents or guardians have your permission slips ready.”
Trounce walked to the front of the line to face the first girl who was short dark skinned with long black hair in a tight plait.
“Licorice Katana, reporting for duty,” said Licorice handing her permission slip.
“This should be an opportunity to utilise your excellent tracking and scouting skills,” said Trounce nodding at her and moving to the next girl.
“Sindy Malone, reporting.”
“Surprised to see you here Sickie,’ said Trounce, ‘but well done.”
Trounce looked Puffy up and down.
“Puffy Luscious, here,” said Puffy fidgeting with her skirt.
Trounce tutted and moved on.
“Where’s Marcy Tallapalenka?” said Puffy.
“She’s having her stomach stapled again,” said Trounce.
Puffy shook her head.
“She should embrace her large size, like me,” said Puffy.
Chela elbowed Babs.
“Yeah right, if we meet cannibals we know who they will catch and eat first,” she said.
“Yeah we’d be part of the tribe by the time they finished her,” said Babs.
The two girls laughed.
Trounce stared at Babs who quelled.
“Babs Tabasco, miss, reporting for duty.”
“You impress on this trip, then we will see about getting you those attack dogs you wanted,” said Trounce.
Babs smiled and straightened herself. Trounce flicked her eyes to Chela.
“Chela, reporting for duty,” said Chela yawning and looking to the sky.
“Not sure what this trip is going to do to develop you, personally Chela, maybe it will help you interact with others and force you to keep that attention deficit hyperactivity disorder in check, who knows? But remember I have a direct line to The Father.”
Chela flicked her nose.
Trounce turned to the Terror twins who were making faces at Chela.
The girls turned to Trounce with wide welcoming smiles.
“Rain and Tiffany Terror reporting for duty, miss. You are looking well today,” they said.
“Now, girls try not to assert control over the rest of the girls on this trip, this is a democratic group activity,’ said Trounce clasping her hands together, ‘Chela you will drive the Twerk Machine, your buggy will be safe and sound here, I will monitor you via radio.”
The girls picked up their backpacks and poured into the Twerk Machine which was a restored 1977 Chevy Blazer Chalet camper sourced and restored by Fat Al’s Junk Yard, painted in pink, black and yellow like a piece of confectionary.
“Just one thing, girls,” said Trounce.
The girls all looked at her, ready to leave.
“Tops! Make sure your scout shirts are on. I’ll let you off the shorts, but tops must be worn.”
The girls groaned as they searched their packs for their uniform and half-heartedly threw on and buttoned their PAWGS shirts then stared at Trounce. Once Puffy had finally put her shirt on, Trounce tapped the roof and the vehicle blew down the mountain road.
On a battered road within the Desert of Twisted Limbs an overturned camper smouldered. Two girls lay in the road, their battered and bruised bodies already attracting vultures and insects.
“Damn shame those girls died on impact,’ said Grand GG PhaseFucker twirling the ends of his moustache with oily fingers, ‘I could have done with dipping my wick.”
“We still could boss,” said Shitslinger rubbing his stubbled head tattooed with a crude skull and crossbones design.
“I draw the line at any necro stuff,’ said PhaseFucker munching on a cooked leg, ‘it would be a step too far.”
The bikers sat around a campfire not far from the vehicle they had raided. They wore leather jackets with the ‘The Ruffians’ scrawled on the back in white above the stencil of a rat riding a motorcycle. Stacked beside them were two male bodies with a third legless and turning on a spit above the fire. PhaseFucker passed the leg to the thin man with a pencil moustache and pupil-less eyes next to him.
“With all due respect boss, I reckon it should be up for debate, I mean, once you’ve eaten someone, there really shouldn’t be any more boundaries left,’ said Shitslinger, ‘what you think Rev?”
The thin man took a small bite from the leg.
“I’m chewing it over,” said The Reverend Orke Danneals with a voice that sounded like a parasite.
The gang laughed.
“Well I’m not sticking either of my dicks in any dead girl,” said Larry rubbing his hands over his hair to ensure the integrity of his quiff.
“What’s it like having two dicks Larry?” said Anvil, the largest member of the gang.
Larry stared seriously in Anvil’s craggily carved face.
“Double the pleasure, double the pain. Luckily, I’m ambidextrous,” he said clicking his fingers and pointing two hands at the group.
The gang filled the air with greasy giggles.
“Still,’ said Larry Two Dicks, ‘shame you were so quick to kill that last bloke, that twink could have been femmed up and would have done me.”
Grand GG PhaseFucker stood up.
“Okay, clarification on the law of The Ruffians, dead chicks are off limits. If you are still so worked up you are considering it, I recommend popping one off in the bushes. That said, we will get some chicks for the back of our bikes soon.”
“Amen,’ said Reverend Orke raising his hip flask then downing a shot, ‘take a swig boys then pass it on.”
The guys cheered and chugged alcohol as they enjoyed their hearty meal.
“I feel sick,’ said Sickie, ‘can you slow down?”
Chela pushed her tongue against her teeth, Babs rested her head against the vibrating glass. Licorice sat between the Terror Twins her eyes closed as they chomped chewing gum and blew pink bubbles. Puffy gazed into a compact mirror whilst carefully applying eye makeup despite the frantic bouncing of the vehicle. Sickie was breathing heavily and a gentle shade of green.
“Crack open a window,” said Chela.
“But then I’m cold,” said Sickie.
Babs gritted her teeth in the rear-view mirror.
“Man, you’re giving me a fucking headache. Can you please just stop whining?” she said.
Chela slowed the Twerk Machine to a gentler speed.
“There you go, it’s not as fun when someone’s constantly whining. Besides we’re far enough away now. Licorice, you got the stuff?” said Chela.
Licorice opened her eyes, smiled and nodded.
“What you got?” said Puffy leaning forward knocking Sickie up against the window.
The Terror twins’ eyes widened as Babs grinned and met their gaze. They took their gum out and stuck it behind their ears.
Licorice pulled up her seat and took out a cooler from a secret compartment. The girls started to whoop when Licorice opened the lid and threw a bottle of clear liquid to each girl.
“This is 98% proof guys, so go easy on it,” she said.
She pulled a bottle of dark liquid and plonked it in Sickie’s lap.
“Get a mouthful of that, hun,’ she said, ‘it’ll settle your stomach.”
“What else you got?” said Puffy.
Licorice took out a bag of purple powder, a bag of cannabis and a sheet of paper with images of radiation symbols.
“Now that is what I’m talking about,’ said Puffy, ‘all the supplies for a proper trip.”
“Let’s do ‘em now,” said Babs.
“Yeah alright,” said Sickie.
The girls cackled.
“You’ve perked up, ain’t you?” said Babs tearing the sheet and handing out tabs to everyone.
“Keep it under the tongue then swallow,” said Licorice.
“Good advice for many acts,” said Puffy.
Chela parked the Twerk Machine in a clearing, the girls poured out of the camper immediately setting up a camp, with Babs starting the fire, Chela and Licorice setting up warning signals, Puffy setting up the chairs, and Sickie and the twins setting out the supplies and rolling joints.
Music churned from the Twerk Machine’s amplifiers to the campfire scene its headlights illuminated. Chela, Babs and Puffy were dancing together, Licorice sat cross-legged travelling the roads of her own imagination as Rain and Tiffany lay back gazing at the mess of stars in the rainbow-kissed sky. Sickie huddled close to the campfire lost in the flames.
“Wonder what Trounce would have to say about this?” said Sickie.
The girls who were dancing joined her around the fire.
“Trounce seems like a goer to me,” said Babs.
“Definitely,’ said Puffy slugging vodka down her throat, ‘reckon she’s chugged on loads of cock.”
Chela giggled spraying vodka over the Tiffany and Rain. They tutted and wiped each other down.
“We’ve shared a few guys before,’ said Tiffany, ‘but they can’t handle us both.”
“What about you Sickie?’ said Babs, ‘or are you allergic?”
Sickie barely able to lift her wasted eyes shook her head.
“I believe in love, saving myself for the right one.”
The girls all looked at each other, lost in the silent aftermath of honesty. Music from the radio drifted over them.
“That’s beautiful, Sickie, good for you,” said Puffy.
The twins flashed a sly glance at each other.
“What about you Chela? You popped your cherry yet?” they said.
“Nah, but wanna know how many people I’ve killed? ‘Cos I’ve definitely popped that cherry.”
The girls looked at the mutant girl illuminated by the fire, staring at them with a real eye and a bionic eye, scratching an oversized pincer where her arm should be. They lowered their gaze.
“I popped a different type of cherry recently,” said Babs.
When all the girls looked at her she turned around and pulled up her shirt. ‘P.A.W.G’ was tattooed on her lower back.
“Hardcore!” said Licorice.
“You have a nice ass, Babs,’ said Puffy, ‘like a ripe peach. I’m happy with my body, but if I could change one thing it would be having an ass like that, mine’s a little droopy.”
“Me too!” said Chela.
“What you have a droppy ass?”
“Chela’s ass is tight!” said Sickie.
“Nah, I mean, I got a tattoo recently.”
The girls flicked their gaze as she turned and pulled off her top to reveal a full back tattoo of butterfly wings in ultraviolet ink.
“Beast!” said Sickie.
“Now that is cool,” said Puffy.
“Cheers, If I was to change my body, I’d have Babs’ tits,’ said Chela, ‘those things are weapons of mass destruction.”
Babs marched around the campfire thrusting out her breasts and shouting, ‘take that!’ whilst the rest of the girls whooped and cheered and then chanted.
Chela stirred in the twilight, the lightest this part of the world got without being bombarded by solar flares. Laid out across two camp chairs she watched a scorpion cross the dirt beneath her. Sickie was curled next to the campfire which had burned out, the Terror twins snored in the front seats of the camper, Babs and Puffy were asleep on the vehicle’s roof. She couldn’t locate Licorice.
Chela took a snort of the purple powder in a small pile on her chest and lit the spliff that had been tucked behind her ear, inhaling deeply she searched her memory for hints at the events of the night before. She exhaled filling the air with a jet of black smoke along with any desire to worry about the previous night. She strolled to kickstart the campfire, pulled the blanket over Sickie and took a swig from the whiskey bottle cradled in her arms.
The camper was remarkably inviting in the blue light, so she staggered towards it and stared at her image in the glass, sniffed and rubbed her eyes caught in a combination of the post-high cosiness and the chill of the new day. The furry seat had a lovely warmth that she purred into, closing the back door gently not to alert any of the girls to her newly claimed resting place fearing having to share. She smoked the spliff, flicking the ash onto the camper floor until she drifted back to sleep.
“It’s your fault,’ said Babs, ‘both of yours.”
“Is it fuck,” said the Terror twins.
Chela yawned deeply. Puffy groaned still half asleep on the camper roof. Chela wondered whether Puffy was directly above her and imagined what would happen if she fell through.
“Come on guys,’ said Sickie, ‘it’s no one’s fault.”
“And what are you doing building the campfire that high, it’s practically a bonfire, any freak will be able to see that,” said Babs.
“I’m cold,” said Sickie.
“Pretty sure there’s a garage a way down the road, I can be discrete, see what I can get, what you reckon?” said Licorice.
Sickie looked at Babs. Babs raised her head in pronounced thought.
“Yep, you do that Licorice, but make sure you have water and supplies,” she said.
“Already done,” said Licorice, who turned on her heel and ran into the darkness towards the road.
“Who made you chief anyway? Barking orders at everyone,” said Tiffany.
Chela got into the front seat and searched the compartments until she found a bottle of vodka, which she took a deep gulp from. In front of the camper she could see Babs and the twins face to face ready to go at it. She pushed the horn. She took another swig and upon seeing that the girls still hadn’t settled she pushed the horn again. Squinting at the girls she realised that not only were the girls difficult to see, the horn had not made any sound.
“Battery flat?” she said.
“Oh, here’s the genius,” said Rain.
Babs pushed her hard. Tiffany retaliated by grabbing the bunches of Babs’ hair and headbutting her. The girls fell to the floor in a scramble, rolling about as a threesome, scramming, pulling and biting at each other.
“Fuck’s sake,” said Chela rubbing her head unsure if she had a hangover or if the metal plate in her head was playing up.
She walked over to the tangle of girls and separated them.
“Come on girls you’re better than this,” she said.
The Twins bowed their heads and Babs looked away.
“You know two against one isn’t fair,” said Chela.
“You’re right,’ said the twins, ‘sorry Babs.”
Babs nodded sternly accepting their apology.
“Okay, we’ll tag team,’ said Rain, ‘I’ll go first.”
Babs grinned rubbing her hands together. Rain pulled Tiffany to her feet and then stepped out of the makeshift ring the rest of the girls had quickly cobbled together with the camp chairs.
With all the distraction the girls were oblivious to the sounds of motorbike engines in the distance.
“Alright boys let’s move out,” said Grand GG PhaseFucker combing his moustache in the handlebar mirror.
“Bit early, ain’t it?’ said Shitslinger scratching in his pants, ‘I’m still knackered after that meal.”
Anvil was busy doing push ups whilst Larry urinated two streams of dark piss into the dirt.
“You ever tried to write your name twice?” said Reverend Orke Danneals, his slimy laugh filling the sky.
The two streams of urine converged and trickled beneath Anvil.
“Fuck’s sake Larry, got your piss on me,” said Anvil wiping his face and spitting.
“Best to get moving whilst the twilight’s on, save battery power,’ said Larry buttoning his jeans and shaking his hands, ‘better riding in the blue light after a snort though.”
Grand GG ceased combing his beard and pursed his lips until a smile formed in the corner of his mouth.
“Alright, form a queue,” he said.
The gang of Ruffians formed a line as PhaseFucker pulled out a bag of purple dust placing a bump on his fist. Each man devoured the mound with a hefty snort. They danced and punched the air as the kick hit them and then rode the wave across the Desert of Twisted Limbs on their bikes until PhaseFucker pointed out the campfire in the distance.
“A fire might mean cooking and cooking might mean girls,” he said revving the accelerator.
The Ruffians cheered increasing their speed.
Babs’ breasts swung like pendulums as she pounded her fists into Tiffany’s bloodied face.
“Stretch out,” said Rain reaching out with her hand.
Tiffany stretched enough to brush fingers with her sister. Rain leaped from the chair and crashed into Babs with a flying clothesline manoeuvre. Babs scattered backwards skidding across the desert floor with a look of bewilderment across her face.
“Get out the ring,” said the spectators to Tiffany, who responded by rolling out.
Rain gave herself a run up and came down with an elbow drop on Babs, who clutched her stomach and rolled about winded. The impact had knocked some of the enthusiasm out of Rain, who struggled to get back to her feet. Chela looked at the fighters, all three were banged up and had more than preserved their honour. Puffy and Sickie were cheering whilst sharing a bottle of vodka. Chela stepped into the ring between Rain and Babs.
“Ding Ding!” she said shaking her claw.
Babs, Rain and Tiffany shared sighs of relief. Tiffany helped Rain to her feet, and in turn both helped Babs to hers. They shook hands.
“Sounds like we missed a fucking good show,” said PhaseFucker appearing from behind the camper.
“Yeah, a nice bit of girl on girl,” said Reverend Orke Danneals.
The figures of Larry Two Dicks, Anvil and Shitslinger followed.
Chela eyed up the bikers, she inhaled to calm her pulse, which was racing more out of annoyance at being surprised than fear.
“Where’s your bikes?” she said.
PhaseFucker turned to Orke nodding his head with an impressed smile.
“She’s pretty quick this one,” he said.
“Yeah, a mutant too by the looks of it, love me a mutant girl,” said Orke.
Sickie moved behind Puffy, who was busy tidying her hair and shortening her dress. Tiffany, Rain and Babs stood side by side ready to fight as a threesome.
“No need for edginess girls,’ said PhaseFucker, ‘the boys and me are here on good terms, we didn’t want to roll up engines blasting and give you the wrong impression of us.”
“You mean, you wanted to surprise whoever was at the campfire,” she said.
“Told you she was quick, didn’t I?”
“You sure did,” said Orke eyeing Chela like a leathery tongue licking an ice cream.
“True,’ said PhaseFucker holding up his palms, ‘that said, if we meant you girls bad intentions, I wouldn’t have introduced myself. You look like you are having a party, and well, we’re always up to party, ain’t we boys?”
The bikers laughed.
“Introductions are in order, my name is Grandmaster GG PhaseFucker and I’m head of our little Chapter called The Ruffians, you might’ve heard of us?”
“Nope,” said Chela.
“Well, we can’t be all that bad, can we?” he said.
“He’s got a point, Chela,” said Puffy walking forward.
Chela flashed a gritted frown at her.
Puffy offered the back of her hand to PhaseFucker like a dainty fairy.
“My you’re one playful looking sausage roll,” said Reverend Orke taking her hand and licking it.
“This is Reverend Orke Daniels,’ said PhaseFucker, ‘excuse his lack of pupils, some sort of genetic thing. The slobbering skinhead behind me is Shitslinger, and the carved statue towering behind him is Anvil.”
“Who’s the quiff?” said the Terror twins.
“Well, that is Larry Two Dicks,” said PhaseFucker.
The girls raised their eyebrows.
“No misnomer,” said PhaseFucker smiling.
The Terror twins stood up and walked towards Larry each taking a hand and leading him to sit by the fire.
“There that’s nice and friendly,” said PhaseFucker sitting down and patting the chair next to him whilst looking at Chela.
Anvil stomped over towards Sickie and offered his coat.
“You shivering, like coat to keep warm?” he said in a voice that sounded like friendly stone.
Sickie smiled and nodded like a mouse agreeing to eat out of a person’s hand. She took the coat and wrapped herself in it.
“May sit?” said Anvil.
Sickie nodded and Anvil sat beside her.
“Large fire, but right size for me,” he said.
Shitslinger rubbed his eyebrows and walked towards Babs offering her a hand. She did a backwards roll and then sat on the other side of the campfire. Shitslinger gritted his teeth and shook his eyes bemused. Chela noted the vein bulging in his temple.
“No worries there Shitslinger, not every gal is looking for a dance partner, come join me and my new friend,” said PhaseFucker.
Chela sat down next to PhaseFucker and Shitslinger took the seat next to her. She winked at Babs, who smiled back. PhaseFucker lit a joint and inhaled deeply.
“I must say I am intrigued,’ he said slapping his thigh and exhaling, ‘what is a pack of fine beauties doing out unprotected in this harsh land, surely your fathers must be worried?”
The bikers laughed like an oily engine through a gear change. Puffy and the twins laughed too.
“We’re PAWGS, baby,” said Puffy jiggling her tits.
“Yeah, we don’t need no protection out here,” said Tiffany rubbing Larry’s left thigh.
Chela pushed her tongue into her cheek and shook her head.
“PAWGS eh?’ said Orke, ‘sounds naughty girl, and what exactly is a PAWG?”
“Powerful Artillery Wielding Girl Scouts,’ said Rain rubbing Larry’s right thigh.
“Well you sure don’t seem to have many big weapons on you,” he said.
“What about these?” said Puffy shaking her tits again.
Orke threw his head back with a wild grin and then brought his head down into Puffy’s cleavage. She squealed and squeezed her tits against his face.
“That’s the thing about names’ said PhaseFucker, ‘they are funny things, designed to inspire fear, like when I started this gang, some of the guys wanted a scarier name than The Ruffians, but to me it is actions not names that matter.”
Shitslinger placed his hand on Chela’s knee and began to rub her leg in waves, each time closer to her groin. She leaned into him, leaving herself open to PhaseFucker at her left. Shitslinger grinned as the curly haired girl moved in responding to his moves. She winked at him as her grin became a shrug. His eyes became quizzical then bulbous with shock as the claw around his neck tightened.
“Afraid I have to say no,” said Chela.
He lifted his hand off her thigh and she responded by relinquishing her grip on his throat.
“Well that’s not very hospitable is it?’ said PhaseFucker,’I thought you mutant girls were right goers, could at least throw a fuck our way, seeing as your friends are taking care of our compadres.”
Chela stood up unzipped her pants and pulled them down to reveal a mechanical contraption encasing her crotch.
“Sorry boys, daddy says no,” she said pulling her trousers back up.
“What was that?” said Orke winking at Puffy and nodding towards his crotch.
“Chastity belt, won’t come off, trust me I’ve tried,” she said sniggering.
PhaseFucker stood up, shrugging his shoulders and puffing out his chest.
“Well your mouth works don’t it?” he said unzipping his fly.
“Not in the way you’d like,” she said biting her teeth together.
PhaseFucker pulled out his gun. Chela was ready to pounce but a cough behind her disarmed her. Chela turned to see Orke’s revolver pointed at the top of Puffy’s head as she nuzzled her mouth into Orke’s lap. The splashing sounds and grunts of Puffy seemed absurd to Chela in the circumstances. She turned back to the two men as PhaseFucker clocked her in the side of the head with his revolver. She fell flat into the dirt.
“That’s okay, wouldn’t want to fuck a scorpion anyway,” he said.
Puffy looked up as the two men kicked Chela in the chest and stomach. Sickie shivered inside Anvil’s large leather jacket and arms oblivious to her surroundings and the Terror Twins were riding Larry Two Dicks as they watched the beating. As the boots pounded into Chela’s body, Puffy’s voice floated into her ears.
“Hey guys, no need for that, there’s plenty of me to go around, leave her and join me and your friend here,” she said.
“Well I need to blast my load first,” said PhaseFucker taking out his revolver and aiming at Chela’s face.
Babs bolted into the darkness as PhaseFucker pulled the trigger.
The gunshot cried into the desert sky.
The last thing Chela thought before the blackness took her was that Puffy was a true friend and she would have to limit the number of fat jokes at her expense in the future.
Chela woke with a fierce inhaling of air. She shot to her feet ready to fight, saw that she was alone next to the dying campfire and fell back to the ground.
“Shit,” she said clutching her body.
Her body raged with pain. She would regenerate the damage soon enough, but for the meantime she would feel the effects of the beating. The pain indicated that she had been out less than 24 hours, probably only a few hours in total. She touched her face and pulled out the bullet lodged in the metal plate in her forehead.
“Psst,” said a voice from the darkness.
“Who the fuck is that?” said Chela.
“It’s Babs, you okay?” said Babs.
Chela nodded, then grimaced, then grunted.
“Get over here and help me up then,” said Chela.
Babs crept from the cover of darkness. She rested Chela’s head on her knees and held a bottle of vodka to her lips. Chela sipped the liquid, then gulped it devouring half the bottle. Babs held out a bump of purple powder on her fist, which Chela snorted.
“That should help you on your way to forgetting about the pain,’ said Babs, ‘sorry I didn’t do more to help.”
Chela dismissed Babs’ apologies with a wave of her claw.
“Look girl, we were caught without our weapons, I should have just cut the guy’s head off and took on their leader, but I couldn’t read the situation, the other girls didn’t seem to be on the same page. What happened to them?”
“The Ruffians took them,’ said Babs downing a slug of vodka,’ they took Sickie and the twins.”
“Predators always go after the weak and the lame,’ said Chela smirking, ‘what about Puffy?”
Babs nodded her head.
“Well I owe her one, she took one for the team last night.”
Chela scanned the campsite, shrugged, then performed a variety of stretches.
“I can’t believe I left my hammer in my buggy,’ said Chela shaking her head, ‘so dumb.”
Babs rubbed her eyes.
“We didn’t even bother getting the guns from the Twerk Machine, amateur hour, or what?”
The two girls walked to their dead vehicle, left untouched by The Ruffians. They pulled up the floor in the back revealing a small arsenal of weaponry.
“Shame Marcie Two Bellies isn’t here, she’s a whizz with the M60,’ said Babs ‘speaking of which, you take the shotgun.”
Chela grinned caressing the double-barrelled shotgun against her face, she stuffed her pockets with shells.
“Reckon I should take the bazooka?” said Babs twirling a bunch of her hair.
“Really need permission?”
Babs winked and swung the strap over her shoulder, she picked a case of rockets up.
“Shame the vehicle is shagged, walking is gonna be a bitch,” she said.
“Speaking of walking, you seen Licorice?”
Babs shook her head.
The girls gathered supplies of water, ammunition and drugs and were about to start their journey when they saw a jeep bounding over the landscape with a person parasailing off the back of it. The driver waved at them in the lowlight and slowed the jeep allowing his partner to land behind him. He drove towards the campfire.
“Hey, hope you don’t mind us interrupting, this is as good as any other place to take a break,” he said.
Chela looked at Babs and raised her eyes at the jeep. Babs returned a nod unable to hide a smile, which fortuitously the boys in the jeep assumed was flirtatious. They watched as the driver untied his friend from the parachute.
“Would either of you like a go?” he said.
The girls shook their heads.
“I’m Wired by the way, the guy behind me is Jaxxon Sativa,’ he said smiling at Chela and offering his hand, ‘it’s the lightest it’s been for ages these last few days, thought we’d catch it while we could. You guys had similar thoughts?”
“What you mean?” said Babs.
Chela touched Babs on the small of her back to calm her nerves.
“The campervan,’ said Wired, ‘you out here enjoying the light too.”
“Yes,’ said Chela, eyeing the young man’s smile and offering her claw, ‘something like that.”
Wired held Chela’s claw and gently shook it as he stared into her eyes.
“It’s good to meet you,’ he said, ‘you mind if we sit by your fire, warm up?”
“Sure,” said Chela.
Jaxxon wound the parasailing equipment up and put it away in the jeep.
“Hey girls, fancy a smoke? Really makes you crave the green stuff when you’re up there risking your neck all day.”
Jaxxon eyed Chela’s claw and switched his smile to Babs as he joined Wired at the campfire.
Babs made a brief gesture with her hand as though rolling an invisible pair of dice. Chela smirked. She looked at Wired’s back. He turned and smiled waving her over. She walked towards him and sat beside him. He held a vaporiser in a large gloved hand.
“What’s up with your hand?” she said.
“Oh nothing, I’m a technomancer, it’s a contraption I’ve been working on, I call it the PowerGauntlet, so far I’ve managed to tweak it so that it can generate 100 volts of electricity in the palm.”
“Sweet,” said Chela genuinely impressed.
“I’m not the strongest guy, and out here you need to make use of every advantage to level the playing field. Don’t you think?”
She smiled holding out her claw.
“That’s my advantage, or disadvantage,” she said.
“Flaws are just a matter of perception,” said Wired placing the vaporiser in her claw.
Chela took a hit of the vanilla flavoured weed contemplating the words of the young technomancer, whilst in her bionic vision she enjoyed the way he looked at her when he thought he was unchecked. She passed the vaporiser to Babs who took a hit and passed it to Jaxxon beside her. Upon taking his hit Jaxxon bolted up and flipped into a handstand and walked around on his hands.
“You cut your head?’ said Wired pointing at his own forehead, ‘You okay?”
“Yeah I’m fine, it’s just a bullet hole.”
“You from round here?” said Wired.
“Up near Sorrowsong.”
“Yeah, I know, don’t worry, I’m no Purist,” she said.
“Well I got that from the claw,’ he said, ‘pretty sure they’d want to kill you on sight for that.”
“What about you?”
Wired was about to respond when Jaxxon’s voice cut across them.
“There’s a water pool down there, who’s up for a swim?” he said.
Wired jumped up and ran to look.
“Typical ain’t it?’ Chela said scratching her chin, ‘I’d actually like to join them.”
Babs clicked her tongue and shrugged.
“Yeah we will be there now, just getting our costumes from the camper, meet you there,” said Babs.
Chela and Babs threw their weapons into the back seat of the jeep and climbed into the front. Chela was about to hotwire the engine when she realised Wired had left his keys in the ignition, normally she would laugh at his naivety, but for some reason she sympathised.
“Start the car then,” said Babs tapping her thigh.
Chela shaken out of her reverie started the engine.
Babs grabbed Chela’s shotgun and pointed it at the boys who stopped instinctively raising their hands.
“Sorry boys, under normal circumstances, we would genuinely love to hook up with you, but we need to go kill some guys and rescue some girls,” said Babs.
Chela watched the boys disappear in a haze of dust in the rear-view mirror.
“Why do you keep slowing down?” said PhaseFucker.
Orke thumbed at Puffy sat behind him, he loosened her arms around his chest and sighed. PhaseFucker revved towards Larry, the twins behind him. The lines on his face formed the impression of a worn horseshoe, his eyes sagging beneath his dishevelled hair. He looked over at Anvil’s blissful stone face like a statue of a smile, Sickie behind him shivering in his leather jacket. PhaseFucker rubbed his crotch, the blowjob he’d received the night before had been unsatisfactory; a combination of teeth and reluctance to use the tongue or mouth itself. The girls had wanted to stop too often for his liking too, toilet breaks, sight-seeing, rest stops along with the contingent having to match Orke’s slow speed. He saw the service station in the distance and his moustache raised revealing a blackened toothy smile.
“Rest ahead, fellas,” he said powering the bike ahead of the pack.
The service station seemed to be made of rust with a side-line as a museum; old engines and shells of vehicles littered the forecourt. The shop itself housed inside a large grey cube of reinforced concrete and bulletproof glass, outside of which a few wooden benches and tables were scattered. The bikers entered in single file led by PhaseFucker who parked close to the dirt road.
“Right then girls,’ said PhaseFucker wiping his brow and holding out credits, ‘you go and get us some drinks and some treats for yourselves.”
Orke’s bike chugged in behind them.
The twins leapt off the bike and grabbed the credits from PhaseFucker.
“Come on Puffy, we’re getting some refreshments,” they said.
“Ace, that seat sure has caused me discomfort and I’ve had at least two sets of man batter slaloming down my legs the entire way.”
The girls cackled as Orke’s face twisted in disgust.
“Uh, boss,” said Anvil.
“What is it?’ said PhaseFucker watching the girls walk away, ‘go on Sickie, join your friends.”
Sickie shivered and hugged into Anvil.
“Boss,’ said Anvil bolstered by the love of his life’s arms around him, ‘I’m leaving the gang, going to live with Sindy.”
“Are you fucking crackers?” said PhaseFucker.
The four bikers watched open mouthed as their strongest member turned his bike around and rode off in the direction they had just come from. Puffy and the twins ran towards them.
“Where’s Sickie going?” said Puffy.
“Can’t believe Anvil pussied out,” said PhaseFucker eyes still fixed on Anvil’s bike.
“First taste of pussy and he leaves the life to settle down,” said Orke shaking his head.
“Maybe it’s true love,” said Puffy.
Anvil and Orke both spat on the floor.
“Pah,” said PhaseFucker.
“Larry,’ said the twins, ‘we need you to carry our things for us whilst we shop. Also, need you to shampoo our hair later.”
“Yes, be there now,” he said.
PhaseFucker and Orke turned incredulous at Larry, who was draped over his bike like a sack of rotting vegetables.
The twins and Puffy walked back to the service station.
PhaseFucker took out a telescope from his waistcoat pocket and watched Anvil riding away on the long road. Dust spat up on the tip of the horizon, he focused on it until into view he saw a jeep driven by the mutant girl he’d shot in the face.
“Right guys,’ said PhaseFucker rolling his shoulders and fingering his moustache, ‘emergency meeting.”
The four bikers huddled together.
“These chicks ain’t worth the hassle,’ said PhaseFucker, ‘besides I’ve just seen that mutant chick and the other girl with the huge tits driving towards us.”
“Time to leave,’ said Orke, ‘that chick is screwing my rear suspension and slowing me down, we have to ditch her.”
“Man, these are first girls we’ve encountered that have wanted to go with us,’ said Shitslinger, ‘last night was the first time I put my dick in a woman for ages.”
“You have her on your bike then,” said Orke.
Shitslinger looked at Puffy then shook his head.
“Too much aggro. Let’s ditch these ass pains,” said PhaseFucker.
The Ruffians nodded their heads, started their bikes and rode away from the service station. The twins ran to the road followed by Puffy, screaming insults and throwing their snacks against the floor.
“We’re coming for you Larry!” said the twins.
The bikers whooped and punched the air.
“Boss, I reckon they will come after us, that mutant’s gonna be pissed and the twins are mental,” said Larry.
“Affirmative to that,” said Orke.
“Well, let’s have a surprise for them then,” said Grand GG PhaseFucker.
Chela and Babs brought the jeep to a stop at the tangled mass of flesh and blood.
“What is it?’ said Babs, ‘roadkill?”
Chela hopped out of her seat and walked across the bonnet and jumped into the road. She crouched at the mangled corpse.
“It’s roadkill alright, just not the good stuff,” she said.
Babs wrinkled her nose.
“What you mean?”
“It’s Licorice,” said Chela.
Babs jumped out of her seat and leapt off the bonnet to join Chela.
“What the fuck? How can you tell?”
Chela held up a long braid of black hair.
“Gross,” said Babs.
Chela scanned the road.
“The Ruffians stampeded her,’ said Chela walking towards the scrub at the side of the road, ‘may not have been intentional.”
“Nah, probably intentional,” she said.
Chela pulled a black object from the scrub and held it up for Babs to see.
“She found a battery then?” said Babs removing Licorice’s scout shirt, folding it neatly and shoving it into her pocket.
“Yeah, she was a competent scout.”
Chela put the battery pack in the jeep and in a determined silence the pair drove after The Ruffians desperate to enact vengeance.
The road stretched out in uneventful blandness until a biker emerged from the hazy twilight. Chela focused the zoom option of her bionic eye.
“It’s the giant one, with Sickie,” said Chela.
“Exercise caution, he may be bringing her back,” said Babs.
Chela stopped the jeep in the road. She racked the double-barrelled shotgun using the door as cover. Babs did the same with the bazooka. The biker approached them slowly with Sickie waving a scarf.
“Stop there,” said Chela.
Anvil stopped the bike and held up his hands. Sickie got off the bike and ran in front of him.
“Don’t shoot,” she said.
“Why not?” said Chela.
Sickie took Anvil’s hand.
“He left the gang, we’re going back to mine, Anvil wants to work on my garden. We’re in love.”
“True love,” said Anvil.
Chela and Babs exchanged glances.
“Fair enough,’ said Chela, ride past slowly on my side.”
Chela closed the door of the jeep and took cover on the other side of the car with Babs.
“Slowly,” said Chela.
Anvil complied nodding at the girls as he passed the jeep.
“See you later,” said Sickie.
Babs and Chela trailed them with their weapons.
“Congratulations,” said Chela.
“Yeah congrats,” said Babs.
Sickie smiled and squeezed into Anvil as he raised a hand to wave. Then they picked up speed and continued their ride home. Chela and Babs waited until the bike was out of sight then thundered after the remaining gang members.
The service station soon came into view along with their browbeaten friends, slumped over wooden benches on the forecourt. They pulled the jeep into the garage.
“It’s Chela and Babs,” said Puffy throwing her hands up in cheer and climbing into the back seat.
“We’re hunting bikers, you coming girls?” said Babs.
The twins grimaced at the girls, tutted then slumped towards the jeep and squeezed in the back seat with Puffy.
“Larry Two Dicks is ours,” they said, their faces full of petulant thunder and chewing gum.
“We got dumped,” said Puffy.
Chela stifled a laugh with the rev of the accelerator. Babs explained their acquisition of the jeep and their discovery of Licorice as Chela focused on following the bikers’ tracks in between thoughts of the blonde-haired boy she’d wanted to go skinny dipping with. Then Babs took great delight in regaling the girls in the back seat about Sickie and Anvil finding true love which Puffy found delightful and the twins distasteful.
The jeep followed the road on the edge of a ravine on Chela’s side. She maintained a healthy speed when something disturbed her. Ahead of her she could not make out any more trails as though the bikers had disappeared. She saw a thin flash across the road at eye level that connected to a mast at the top of the ravine.
“Duck!” she said.
The jeep smashed through a thin line of razor wire tied across the road which tore through the windscreen, whipped above Chela and Babs’ heads as they threw themselves beneath the dashboard. Tiffany and Rain managed to do the same but Puffy only said ‘what?’ before the wire tore through her neck decapitating her. The jeep swerved and Puffy’s head landed next to Chela’s where their eyes met. Tiffany, Rain and Babs threw themselves from the jeep landing heavily onto the road. The jeep flipped over and plummeted towards the bottom of the ravine. Chela looked up and saw the ground below coming towards her with the full weight of the jeep above her. She threw herself out of the jeep towards the mountain side and tumbled, crashing through the branches of decaying trees and into the grey sand. The air from her chest escaped and as she fought for oxygen the pain in her back tore through her body. She made out the figures of the bikers at the top of the ravine looking down at her. Her final thoughts before the shadow took her was on how she had been a total rookie for most of this field trip.
On the road the bikers cheered.
“Told you it would work,” said Orke.
“Man, gotta say that is some evil shit,’ said PhaseFucker adjusting his crotch and peering down into the wreckage at the bottom of the gorge, ‘that’s one dead mutant. Shame really ‘cos she was a stunner.”
“Apart from the claw,” said Shitslinger.
The tangled bodies of the Terror twins lay in the road, their eyes fixed on Larry who gazed down at them adjusting his quiff. Babs, spattered with her own blood, breathed shallowly as her body spasmed.
“Right gather them up,’ said PhaseFucker, ‘we’ll take them back to the HQ, chain them up as our personal sex dolls. Don’t worry girls, we’ll let you heal first, we’re not animals.”
Chela awoke from 12 hours of blackness to find a scorpion crawling over her chest. She tried to flick it off, but her hand wouldn’t lift. Pain swelled in her lower back. Her toes twitched in response to signals from her brain which gave her some comfort. The bonus of being experimented on as a foetus by an insane scientist father figure to engineer a genetically modified killer was the various benefits she had over the regular girls growing up; heightened reflexes, enhanced IQ, strength, durability, a body adaptable to weather extremes, and the benefits of rapid healing. Her physical body only required 24 hours to recover from injuries if she wasn’t killed outright.
She spent the first eight hours immobile running through various self-defence manoeuvres in her mind, detailing then disassembling, cleaning and reassembling of various weapons, she even visualised herself completing her vigorous workout routine, push up by push up, pull up by pull up. Then she concocted various tortures on the men responsible for her current predicament and then she relived her first meeting with Wired, his smile and his touch upon her claw. She breathed out and her hand moved towards her crotch. Her eyes widened and she laughed. The scorpion upon her chest began to move. She picked it up by the tail.
“Mama, mama,” she said before placing it in the pocket of her dungarees.
Her skin was covered in blood belonging to her and her friends, she ran her hands over her body checking for bleeds, but the blood had dried and there were no wounds to deal with. The bullet hole in her forehead had completely healed, but aside from the broken back that had repaired itself most of the damage she had sustained was superficial that although susceptible to further damage while repairing was not inconvenient. Staggering to the jeep she tore a large strip from the parasail to create a bag, which she filled with scorpions collected from the grey sand then tied to her belt. She tied the battery Licorice had found over her shoulder, located her shotgun and a few scattered shells, fruitlessly searched for her friend’s head, then set about climbing the steep ravine towards the road.
Her eyes scanned the ravine assessing the best mode of ascent, she blew snot from her nostrils and spat on the floor. The climb was slow and wearing on her damaged frame, but her anger fuelled her legs like pistons forcing her crawl up the vertical rise with the methodical compulsion of an insect. At times she would punch into the dirt with her claw to secure herself to rest, where she would look down at the jeep below. As her climb progressed, she was taken by a fit of the giggles, lost in a wave of surprise at her own abilities, strength and endurance at surviving such a massive fall.
She grasped a rock with her human hand which relinquished its connection with the earth, and she slid, she plunged her hands into the dirt to slow her descent but her body hit a ledge which flipped her body and she tumbled back towards the gully. She lashed out with hand and claw to save herself and crashed into a stunted tree stump shoulder first dislocating it, causing her claw arm to hang flat at her side.
“Woopdifuckingdo!” she said clutching the roots with her bleeding hand.
Ignoring the throbbing pain in her shoulder, she gritted her teeth and steadying herself with her feet, pushed up and clutched the earth. Chela repeated this motion until she emerged at the lip of the ravine and heaved herself onto the road.
Puffy’s body was plonked in the road in an island of her blood. Chela tore her latex skirt down revealing knickers with teddy bears cuddling on them. Her bubblegum perfume still fresh and amply applied.
“You poor thing,” she said cutting Puffy’s skirt in half.
Chela dropped the battery to the floor and stood straight to regulate her breathing. She pulled her claw arm straight forward and then back, repeating this motion deliberately and patiently until her shoulder popped back into place. The relief of it caused her to crash to the floor panting, her body caked in a sweaty mix of blood, oil and dirt. She set about manipulating the red latex dress into a sling pulling it into a tight knot with her teeth. A brief search of the road led to the discovery of a metre of razor wire and the tracks of the three girls converging to one long drag pattern and then the trails of the bikes. She removed Puffy’s PAWGS shirt, folding it as neatly as she could and tucked it away in her pocket.
Chela snickered, checked the shotgun and placed the spare shells inside her sling.
“My turn to get some killing done,” she said following the gang’s tracks to their hideout.
The hideout was 5 hours walk in the rain, by the time she arrived her claw arm had a range of motion, despite discomfort. The Ruffians’ hideout was pathetic, consisting of an outside toilet across the yard from a small bunkhouse with an open garage housing a row of motorbikes and a flagpole with a hand painted gang sign on it. It stank like oil, shit and dirty-minded men. She scouted the area, finding the toilet unoccupied and the only light coming from inside the cabin. Inside the men were playing cards and grinning, on the table sat a bucket catching drips from the ceiling. The twins were chained to a rusted washing machine in the kitchen area, their bruised faces grimacing at the back of Larry Two Dicks. Babs was chained to a radiator against the opposite wall. Shitslinger leapt to his feet and started dancing, PhaseFucker dressed in stained long johns poured the drinks as Larry looked to the sky in defeat. The white-eyed Orke threw his cards at Shitslinger and downed his drink. He grabbed a folded magazine and lantern and left the cabin as the other men started another round of cards. Chela stalked the figure of Orke jogging across the sodden ground towards the toilet. He opened the door and hung the lantern from a hook on the wall, unbuckled his pants and let them drop. He jumped round in a ridiculous motion, plonked himself on the toilet and grabbed a rope attached to the door and pulled it shut. Chela did not hear him lock it. She pocketed the shotgun shells she was keeping in her sling and stuffed the shotgun in her pants and crept towards the door placing her ear against it.
There was a grunt followed by a slopping sound and she took the advantage pulling open the door and shoving her claw around Orke’s throat. His white eyes surprised as he looked up from the faded porn magazine still trying to register the attack.
He moved his hands but Chela squeezed just enough to make him raise them.
“Interlock your fingers behind your head,” she said.
“Open your mouth,’ said Chela, ‘but make a noise and I snip, I’m just here for your boss.”
Orke nodded and opened his mouth, it reeked like a cancer-ridden fish.
Chela stuffed Puffy’s red latex dress into Orke’s gob and then squeezed her claw severing his head from his body, blood coated her claw whilst she held Orke’s head by the hair in the other hand. She placed his head on the toilet roll holder and searched his trousers finding a lighter and a switchblade.
Chela used the salvaged metre of razor wire to create a trip wire outside the bunkhouse door, sticking the blade handle into the ground a meter and a half from the trap so that the knife end stood proud in the air jutting from the ground like an erection. She pulled the gang flagpole from the ground and tore the flag from it and pushed Orke’s head onto it in its place, then plunged it into the ground a few meters directly outside the bunkhouse door.
With gentle precision Chela climbed onto the bunkhouse roof and located the source of the leak. Through the hole she emptied the bag of scorpions she had collected and moved to position outside the door.
The men screamed.
“What the fuck?” said PhaseFucker running out the bunkhouse.
He saw the severed head of Orke as he tripped on the razor wire and smacked into the ground taking the blade trap fully into the groin. Shitslinger stalled in the doorway. His eyes flicked from the head of Orke, to the writhing body of his boss to the figure of Chela emerging from the darkness as she pulled the trigger of her shotgun.
Chela fired both barrels into Shitslinger’s stomach and he crashed onto the poker table his guts splattering the walls of the bunkhouse. Chela reloaded and stamped over the whimpering body of PhaseFucker into the cabin. Larry saw her and covered his eyes before Tiffany and Rain dragged him to the floor and pounded blows into him. Chela saw a ring of keys on the table and used them to unlock the girls. Tiffany and Rain immediately used the chains to enslave Larry as Chela helped Babs to her feet.
“Thought you were dead,” Babs said.
“At least twice so far,” said Chela smiling.
Chela took PhaseFucker’s pistol and shot a hole in the base of his bike’s petrol tank. Petrol began to leak over the bike and into the dirt.
“I thought that would explode,” said Babs.
“Nah,” said Chela.
Chela kicked PhaseFucker who rolled over and pulled the blade from his crotch, squealing into the air, gobs of spit tangled into his moustache.
“Okay boy, if you get on your bike, you’re free to go,” she said holding a finger to her lips when Babs looked at her.
PhaseFucker groaned as he crawled towards the bike Chela held for him. She even put the key in the ignition. He draped himself on the bike, blood filling his trousers, his lips quivering. He started the engine and rode away, a trail of petrol following him like the blood of a wounded animal.
Chela sparked Orke’s lighter and dropped it onto the trail of petrol igniting it. PhaseFucker sobbed oblivious to the fire roaring behind him until he caught its glow in his rear-view mirror. He yelped as the flame engulfed him and dived for the dirt frantically rolling to extinguish himself. He stifled the flames and lay on his back whimpering, steam emanating from his trembling body.
Chela stood over him.
“Typically in a situation such as this, I would respond like for like, seeing as you shot me in the face, I could shoot you, I have your weapon after all,’ she said twisting his revolver on her forefinger, ‘but this one is for Licorice, so I’m going to kill you with this battery, which she was bringing to us when you left her like roadkill. And I’m going to bash your head in for Puffy.”
PhaseFucker begged for his life but Chela didn’t even register the words.
“Either way,’ she said holding up the battery, ‘you’re getting fucked by a scorpion.”
She smashed the battery into his head with just enough force to not kill him, watched his body spasm for a few moments before finishing him with the second hit.
The PAWGS stripped the hideout and bodies of weapons, credits and anything else that could be traded or sold.
“Anyone want a leather jacket with a defunct motorbike gang on it?” said Babs dumping the leather jackets into a heap.
“Yeah, sort of an ironic fashion statement,” said Chela.
Wearing their new leather jackets they mounted the remaining bikes. Tiffany rode Larry’s bike, with Rain behind her and Larry behind her holding a chain attached to a dog collar around his neck. Babs tied the severed heads of Orke, Shitslinger and what remained of PhaseFucker’s to her seat and dragged them behind her satisfied by the sounds of the skulls smashing and battering the road. The girls shared a bottle of whiskey taken from the gang’s poker table as they rode back to the Twerk Machine saluting the corpses of their fallen friends along the way.
Chela had hoped Wired would still be there waiting at their campsite but wasn’t surprised to see that the boys had cleared out. Chela wiped the battery with the tattered flag of the Ruffians and then fitted it whilst Larry gathered their belongings and loaded them into the camper.
“Right, let’s load the bikes too,” said Chela discarding the flag in the dirt.
Tiffany and Rain exchanged glances and inaudible mouth movements. Chela had always assumed they were psychic.
“We’re not coming back yet,’ said Rain, ‘tell Trounce to expect us later.”
“Where you going?” said Babs.
“Where going on a double date with Larry, bit of quality time, fully break him in. Isn’t that right Larry?” said Tiffany tugging the chain.
Larry nodded obsequiously and stood by his bike like a servant. Chela wondered if Larry’s fate was worse than the rest of The Ruffians. She spat on the floor.
The girls strutted to the bike, Tiffany got on the bike first, followed by Rain, followed by Larry. Babs and Chela waved them off then got in the Twerk Machine. They sat in silence all the way back to the PAWGS HQ.
Chela parked the camper and opened the door.
“You think you learned anything on this field trip?” said Babs touching Chela’s claw.
Chela closed the door and considered the question. She wrinkled then rubbed her nose.
“Yeah, attack when it is good for me to do so and let everyone on my side catch up. If I’d done that, Puffy and Licorice might still be alive. Not that I feel guilty, because that is just how things go out here. I learned I can survive alone, that I can die more than once. That I’m a genetically modified killer and that it is a pretty fucking beautiful thing.”
Babs breathed Chela’s thoughts in.
“What about you?”
“To not run, to react quicker, to never be without a weapon, ever. Other things I’m still computing.”
After listening to the girls detail their experiences Trounce unfolded the shirts of Licorice and Puffy and gazed at them.
“Real shame, both good girls, they will hang on the wall with our other fallen members. It is good they were avenged.”
Trounce took a cheroot from a wooden box on her desk and lit it, she dismissed Babs with the order to get immediate rest in her bunk. Chela and Babs shared a smile as Babs left the room.
“Right Chela,’ said Trounce, ‘I think it is time for you to leave the PAWGS, tell your father you graduated.”
“You’re too extreme for these girls and it is time for you to work solo, the intention of you joining us, was always for situational training and experience to develop and prepare you to be utilised by your father. You have more than demonstrated that you are ready for that role. You will be using your new buggy for such tasks, which is why you received it I imagine.”
“Okay, I’ll be off then, but I’m keeping my shirt as a memento,’ she said, ‘and the shotgun.”
The journey home was a quiet hell after the mass of life events poured into the last few days, driving to become a practical slave for her father who would send her out into the burnt world particularly gnawed at her. At least she would get to kill stuff. She caressed the shotgun in her lap when she saw a familiar figure walking along the side of the road. She pulled up beside it.
“Dangerous walking these roads,” she said.
“Tell me about it,” said Wired resting his hands on the buggy.
“Is that what the shotgun is for?”
“Just my weapon of choice, I call her Butterfly,” she said.
He grinned and stared at her lips.
“Where’s your friend?” she said.
“Jaxxon? He buggered off when you swiped his jeep, blamed me for leaving the keys in.”
“Sorry about that, next time you see him, tell him I’d have hotwired it in seconds anyway.”
She bit her lip in the warmth of his gaze.
“I waited around for you to return, had the feeling you only wanted to borrow it,” he said brushing his long blonde hair back.
Chela imagined his hair caressing her chest.
“It was true what Babs said to you,’ she said not looking at him, ‘we would have loved to have stayed with you, but we had things to do.”
She waited for him to say something, anything, but he remained silent until she flashed a glance at him.
“You gonna let me in now?” he said.