Wasteland Road Knights Trilogy

by Andrew Dobell

  As he approached, a couple of the undead heard him and turned to face Nero and his car, letting out guttural screeches of defiance.

  ‘Playtime,’ Nero grinned.

  Chapter 4

  Nero

  Nero floored it, and wheel spun forwards towards the two zombies that were now lurching towards him. The first hit the battering ram and practically exploded as it flew off sideways, while the second hit the car front on and slammed onto the bonnet beside the engine that rose from the hood. The things head smashed into the bodywork with a sickening thud and ripped itself clean off the zombie’s neck to bounce over the car.

  Nero grinned again, feeling a sense of satisfaction fall over him as he aimed for the side of the van, wanting to just miss it, but scrape the undead that were standing there off the vehicle.

  He slowed to bring the car in at just the right angle, before flooring it once more. He ignored the bodies that crunched into the battering ram and focused on not hitting the van. He sped past the broken down vehicle and skidded to a stop, grabbing his shotgun and jumping out. The front of his car was a mess, and one of the revenants was still alive and reaching for him from where it lay on the hood. Nero rammed the end of his gun into the thing's mouth, angled the barrel upwards to avoid hitting the car, and fired.

  Brain and skull exploded from the thing’s head before Nero freed his weapon and made his way towards the van.

  ‘Hey, err, we can handle it from here,’ one of the men on top of the van shouted down.

  ‘Of course you can,’ Nero muttered to himself, and stomped on the skull of a zombie he’d cut in half with his car but was still pulling itself along with its one good hand.

  Nero put his shotgun away and pulled out his dagger as he walked over towards one of the few remaining walking corpses at the front of the van. A swift dagger to the head and it dropped to the floor.

  Nero walked along the side of the van, avoiding the rotting internal organs that had been spread over the floor by the car’s ramming of what must have been four or five of these things.

  He nearly tripped over a leg as he reached the back of the van when two more undead stepped around just in front of him. They lunged for him, taking Nero by surprise by how close they suddenly were. He grabbed the first by the neck as it reached for him, clawing at his leather jacket before he kicked out to force the second one further away.

  The second zombie staggered backwards, but Nero lost his balance and couldn’t get his legs back under him in time because the severed leg that he’d tripped on before was in the way.

  Nero dropped to his back, still holding the zombie by the throat as it fell on top of him with a guttural hiss.

  Nero fumbled with his knife, trying to get a good grip on it with his free hand, only to drop it in the dirt.

  ‘Shit,’ he grunted as the zombie clawed at his face and eyes. Nero forgot about the knife for a moment and used his free hand to knock the zombie’s hands away before he punched it in the side of its face.

  The things jaw dislodged from the force of the hit and hung limply from rotting viscera above Nero as it continued to go for him.

  Suddenly, a shadow fell over them, and he saw a knife-wielding hand slam the blade it was holding into the side of the zombie’s skull. The thing went limp and was suddenly nothing more than a dead weight on top of him.

  Nero looked up to see one of the men from the van standing next to him. The man let go of the dagger and took a step back. Nero noticed that the dagger was his own. He eyed it for a moment and then looked up.

  The man smiled and shrugged. ‘Thanks,’ he said.

  Nero nodded and then levered the corpse off of him and let it fall to the floor. The man offered his hand, Nero took it and allowed himself to be helped up.

  ‘I’m Ras, this is Gus,’ the man said, pointing to his friend.

  ‘Nero,’ he answered them, peering at the two men for a moment, wondering if they were going to be hostile. Ras wore an old dirty coat with some old bike pads sewn on here and there. He sported a shock of dark hair, longer than Nero’s, but in a similar mess, and several days worth of growth on his jaw. His friend was topless, his torso covered in tattoos and scars. He was bald but sported an old pair of motorcycle goggles on his head.

  Satisfied they weren’t about to jump him, he crouched down and pulled his dagger from the skull of the corpse before wiping it clean and putting it away.

  ‘Thanks for saving our asses there, sorry for telling you to leave us be, we were a little unsure of your motives,’ he said.

  Nero grunted, he’d guessed as much.

  ‘You headed for the Watchtower, too?’ Ras asked.

  ‘Mmm hmm,’ Nero answered.

  ‘Awesome, any chance of some help? I think we need a tow,’ he said.

  ‘Sure,’ Nero said after a moment’s thought. He could leave them here, but they were indebted to him, and it was always a good idea to make friends rather than enemies when possible. ‘Why are you…’ Nero asked, pointing to the grey silhouette of the tower in the distance.

  ‘Oh, we’re taking some supplies there; taxes, you know,’ Ras said as he helped Nero hook up his car to the Van.

  Nero nodded, he understood. The camp Ras was from was probably under the protection of the Watchtower in return for supplies in the form of offerings or taxes. It was common practice these days.

  A short time later, Nero was back in his car and easing it forward, letting the rope tighten up before he started to pull the van through the desert towards the Watchtower.

  The trip took the best part of an hour, and the sun was fully up by now, blazing down on them, warming up the landscape for another day. As they got closer, Nero could see that the Watchtower used to be some kind of offshore wind turbine. Only one of the blades was left attached, though, and the casing at the top looked to have been extensively expanded upon, and if he had to guess, was also probably hollowed out as well.

  Lower down, the base had been widened out with shacks and other buildings that had been built around it from scrap and parts from the other ruined turbines that dotted the landscape around them. This was the only one left fully standing.

  Huge walls surrounded the place with a large main gate before them. Nero drove up to it and came to a stop before stepping out of the car. He noticed that Ras and Gus were also out of their vehicle.

  ‘Who are you?’ shouted a guard down from the top of the wall.

  ‘He’s with us,’ Ras called back.

  ‘Ras, good to see you. You sure he’s safe?’

  ‘He saved our asses back there, so yeah, I think so,’ Ras answered.

  The guard looked back to Nero. ‘What’s your purpose here?’

  ‘I just want supplies, that’s all. I’m prepared to work for them, too,’ he answered.

  The guard hesitated for a moment before he called down for the gates to be opened. Nero climbed back into his car and pulled the van into the large courtyard, bring it to a stop and looking around the inside of the Watchtower’s defences.

  The tower itself rose up high above him, while shacks, piled on top of each other, climbed up the outside of the base of the tower. He could see a few catwalks and balconies above him where people went about their business or watched the latest arrivals. There were some guards along the walls with a few gun emplacements, and up ahead, a large opening that he could see led into a garage beyond. Off to the right, beneath the walkways above, a neon sign that must have been taken from a city somewhere glowed above a door in the shadows. A single word was lit up on it in neon pink. “GIRLS”.

  Nero raised an eyebrow. There was a brothel here? He could see a girl standing in the doorway watching him and the guys from the van. She smiled when she noticed Nero looking, and winked.

  Ignoring her, Nero continued his scan of the area. His attention moved up to the walkway above and the group of men up there. He watched as the guard from the wall, the same one that had been talking to them outside, walked over to these guys. He starte
d to talk to one of them who wore a hood and an old gas mask decorated with a rusted skull. Was that the tower’s leader, the man in charge?

  A figure to that group’s left, standing somewhat away and leaning against a metal pillar, looked down at Nero. She was slim, wore some old, ripped, fitted clothing and sported a shock of platinum blonde hair. She had her arms crossed and her eyes narrowed as she looked on. For half a second, Nero thought it was his mother, or a younger version of her. It was likely the hair that did it. They locked eyes for a moment, and Nero felt a shiver ripple down his spine. She was a striking beauty.

  She turned away suddenly and disappeared into the shadows as he stepped out of his car.

  ‘Hey,’ Ras said from just behind him. ‘Come with me, I want to introduce you to the boss around here.’

  Nero closed his car door and followed Ras as he walked over to some steps that led up to the balcony above.

  He climbed the steps and a large covered balcony space opened up before him, easily over ten meters square with several groups of people standing in twos or threes. Ras led Nero over towards the largest group of men that the guard had spoken too and watched the man in the mask and hooded jacket step forward.

  ‘Sir,’ Ras said with a deferential nod of his head.

  ‘You made it. We were beginning to wonder if you would,’ the masked man said.

  ‘It was close. We ran into some trouble, but thanks to this man here, we’re here,’ Ras said, gesturing to Nero. ‘Nero, this is Custodiac Rex, he’s the boss around here; the Watchtower is his,’ he said.

  Nero nodded.

  ‘You helped these men in their time of need,’ Rex said. ‘Compassion is a rare quality in the wastes. I think you were lucky Ras,’ Rex said. ‘So, Nero, what brings you to the Watchtower?’

  ‘Supplies. I just need to restock, then I’m on my way,’ Nero said.

  ‘Supplies?’ Rex asked.

  ‘Yeah. Happy to work for them, just let me know how I can help.’

  ‘He can kill zombies like a motherfucker,’ Ras said excitedly. ‘Saved our asses from a hoard of them in that charger of his. He could take care of some business for you, I bet,’ Ras finished.

  ‘Is that right?’ Rex said, and looked over the balcony at Nero’s car below. He paused for a moment before looking back at Nero, his eyes narrow, as if assessing him, weighing him up. ‘Nice car,’ Rex said.

  ‘It does the job,’ Nero answered.

  ‘I’ll bet it does. Okay, sure, I have a job for you. I have a group of raiders in the area causing trouble at some of the local settlements. They seem to have captured several zombies and are using them to attack the less well-defended camps. If you take them out for me, you can have all the supplies you need to get back under way, and a free night with one of Madam Privay’s girls. Deal?’

  Nero looked at Rex’s hand that he held out towards him. It sounded like a fairly simple job. Take out some raiders and their pet zombies. Not too difficult. Having his pick of the camp's supplies would be nice, too. Well, he’d done more for less, so it felt like a fairly easy choice to him. Nero took Rex’s hand and gave it a shake.

  ‘Deal,’ Nero said. ‘When?’

  ‘Today, but later. First, we eat,’ he said with what sounded like a smile that was hidden behind the mask and gestured to Nero’s right. Glancing in the direction Rex had indicated, he saw a young woman walking over to them with a metal sheet that had been turned into a tray with several mismatched cups, mugs, and tankards on top of it. Ras grabbed one quick and took a couple of gulps.

  ‘Aaah, lovely. I’ve been looking forward to this. No one makes firewater like Lobos,’ Ras said.

  ‘Lobos’ Inferno; it’s something one of my men makes, try it. Or there’s water over there if you prefer,’ Rex said.

  Nero sensed that Rex was watching him, testing him, wanting to see if he would drink it. Nero smiled, he didn’t care what anybody thought of him, and he enjoyed a drink every now and again anyway. Many of the camps made their own variation of moonshine or cider, so he’d tried all kinds of drinks during his time. Eyeing the tray again he picked up one of the smaller mugs and gave it a try.

  The liquid slid down his throat like fire, the strong alcohol content burning as it went, but it wasn’t unpleasant, and not the strongest he’d ever tasted. Nero nodded to Rex.

  ‘Nice,’ he said, as he suddenly caught a whiff of some cooking meat.

  ‘Good, enjoy our hospitality,’ Rex said and wandered off. Nero watched him walk to another group of people nearby, his men in tow. One of them lingered and walked over to Nero.

  ‘Sorry sir, but we need to move your vehicle into the garage. We can do it for you if you like…?’

  ‘No one drive’s the charger but me,’ he growled back to the man who raised his eyebrows at the answer.

  ‘Of course, sir, so, if I might ask you to move your vehicle, please?’

  Nero finished the mug with one more gulp and handed it to the man. ‘Sure.’

  It was the work of a couple of minutes to unhook the van from his car and then drive it carefully into the surprisingly spacious garage at the back of the complex. There were quite a few other vehicles in here from dune buggies to 4x4’s, even a monster truck. Ras’s van was being moved in here, too, with Gus at the wheel. He was probably the more mechanically minded of the pair. Nero found a space to park and made sure everything of value was locked away before he left his car here and wandered back up to the balcony. The hooch was nice, but he really needed something a little more quenching, so he wandered over to the water dispenser and poured himself a large mug of life-giving water.

  He drank his fill and then poured himself another, this time he sipped at it, enjoying it as he watched the people in here talking amongst themselves. They were standing in small groups and showed a broad range of dress styles. Some wore more armoured outfits, others preferred freedom of movement and showed more bare flesh. There was a mix of men and women, with the majority of the people here being male. Maybe sixty percent, he guessed.

  As he watched, Ras wandered over to him. ‘Taking it all in, I see,’ he said. ‘We have quite a gathering this time. It’s a good turnout.’

  ‘What is?’ Nero asked.

  ‘All these groups in here. They’re from all the local camps, the ones under Rex’s protection, like us. Every so often we gather here, bringing an offering of supplies. You know, food, drink, plants, seeds, livestock, whatever we can as payment for Rex’s protection. It can be a hazardous trip, though, and not everyone usually makes it, you know?’

  Nero nodded. This was not uncommon. Leaders rose from the ashes of the Cataclysm, gathering men to their banner, becoming powerful. The smaller local camps swore loyalty to these self-styled warlords or they were fair game. These leaders fought amongst themselves, trying to grow their territory, but most of them also swore loyalty to a higher power as well. He wondered if Rex had done this.

  ‘But this, this is a good turnout. Not that I’m surprised,’ Ras said.

  ‘Why?’ Nero asked.

  ‘The Whisperer, of course. He’ll be here soon.’

  Nero gave Ras a questioning look. ‘A daemon?’ he guessed.

  ‘You got it,’ Ras answered him.

  Nero looked back into the crowd. It was as he suspected. Rex, like many of the warlords of the wastelands, swore loyalty to one of the powerful daemon lords. These weren’t the beast-like creatures of the wastes, like the one that attacked him at that raiders camp. These were powerful, intelligent, cunning, and very dangerous. This “Whisperer” must be the local lord. Nero hated everything to do with these things, and it was one of the reasons he chose to wander the wastes rather than settle down. If he was at a camp of his own making, or even just a resident at someone else’s camp, such as this one, he’d be expected to, at the very least, show deference to one of these leaders, these creatures from another dimension. The whole thing left a bad taste in his mouth, really.

  Speaking of which, he thought as he caug
ht another sniff of the aroma from the nearby grill. He could see that some of the guys were eating now, and that lovely smell was making his stomach churn.

  ‘Fancy something to eat, sirs,’ said one of the two serving girls who was wandering around as she passed close to them.

  ‘Absolutely,’ Nero said, and made his way over to the grill with Ras close by. They reached the makeshift barbeque and the smell of cooking meat made Nero’s mouth water. He could see several different cuts on there, most of it red meat that had been browned off and slightly singed by the hot coals beneath.

  ‘Take you’re your pick, gentleman,’ the man behind the grill said as he threw another bloody cut of meat onto the metal grill where it hissed and popped. Nero took out his knife and stabbed a good-sized chunk of meat with it, lifting it from the grill. It was well cooked and smelt wonderful.

  ‘Thanks,’ Nero said as Ras followed suit before they both walked away. Nero couldn’t wait, and bit into the meat, ripping a mouthful off and savouring the taste as he chewed it. He had no idea what it was, what animal it had been. It might even be human. There was no way of knowing, really, but he also just didn’t care. Whatever it was, it tasted great and his stomach thanked him for it. They crossed the platform, and as they walked and ate, Nero heard the sound of clanging metal mixed with grunts and other sounds of effort and exertion. Feeling curious, Nero headed to the balcony area, where another man in a hooded cloak carrying an animal skull-topped staff stood, looking out over the courtyard beyond.

  As he reached the railing, Nero looked down to see the girl he saw earlier with the strawberry blonde hair and fitted scraps of clothing holding a sword and facing off against a slender, wiry man with a mane of long hair and dark clothing. As he watched, the girl rushed in, swinging her sword. The man parried her attack and countered, but the girl was ready and defended herself. The effect was like watching a dance, but a very deadly one. He could hear the man talking to her as they fought, complimenting her, offering advice, reminding her of her footing or how she was holding her blade.