As I Walk These Broken Roads (16 page)

Raxx
’
s eyes traced out patterns on the paving stones as he thought.
“
Thanks, man. I appreciate your help back there.
”

“
Forget about it. We made out alright. Shame no one else did.
”
He leaned back in the bench.

The
city
’
s life passed by them. A group of children by the fountain were whispering and pointing at the two of them. Wentworth
’
s cheek moved in the hint of a smile, and Raxx waved. After a whispered the huddle two of them, a boy and a girl, left the group and walked over.

“
Are you guys Wentworth and Raxx?
”
asked the girl. She was bothering a crack in ground with her toe, but
staring
at the Mechanic defiantly.

“
That
’
s us. What
’
s your name?
”
said Raxx.

“
I
’
m Michael. This is Kimberly,
”
said the boy
“
Is it true that you killed those bad guys?
”

Wentworth glanced over, leaving Raxx to handle it.

The M
echanic leaned forward, glancing left and right.
“
Have people been telling stories about us?
”
He wrung his hands and grinned evilly.
“
I think you made it all up!
”

Kimberly crossed her arms.
“
We didn
’
t make it up! My mommy was talking with Beth about it. Is it true?
”

“
A man must keep his secrets!
”
He drummed his fingers against each other, glancing away.
“
Besides, don
’
t you know that strangers can be
dangerous
?
”

“
You aren
’
t scary!
”
shouted Michael

“
Oh yeah?
”
Raxx jumped up from the bench,
“
Roar!
”
he cried, and the children shrieked, running off in a fit of giggles.

Wentworth laughed,
“
C
’
mon, let
’
s get out of here before their parents talk you into babysitting.
”

They spent the rest of the day exploring the town. Raxx had been through Hope before, working briefly at a metal fabricators that had closed up before signing
on
as a caravan guard. He pointed out the landmarks to Wentworth. There wasn
’
t much to see aside from the town square, the residential dwellings, and the
‘
factory district
’
where he had worked – maybe a dozen shops with two or three workers in each, making anything from furniture to light bulbs to textiles. The town had been cleared of rubble and prewar debris, but the infrastructure showed its age. The sidewalks were cracked, lampposts were streaked, and paint peeled off of the brickwork. Signs of businesses long closed still remained in some places, alongside bleached posters of
prewar
movies and forgotten rock bands.

As the sun began to sink the two of them made their way to Maria
’
s home. It was towards the south end of town, down past the Inn. Above the door hung a sign with cursive writing which read
Maria
’
s Herbs and Preserves
.
As they opened the door it rang a bell.

The store was well lit by the two bay windows on either side of the door, shafts of light beamed down the aisles formed by two freestanding shelves. The air was filled dancing motes and the sharp, heady smell of spices. Towards the back was a counter with a register, behind it a bead curtain going off to
the
living area. The floor was hardwood, with dusty red carpets running along the aisles

As the bell chimed Maria came in from the back, the bead curtain rattling with her passage. She was full figured with a pretty face,
around
the same age as Vince. Her hair was mussed and her apron showed that she
’
d been busy in the kitchen. As she hustled into the room the smell of roast duck followed her.

“
Oh, hello there! You must be Raxx and Iain! Come in, come in!
”
She bolted the front door and ushered them into the back. Raxx raised an eyebrow and mouthed
Iain?
Wentworth just shrugged.

Vince stood up as they entered,
“
Good to see you lads! So this is my Maria–
”

“
Pleased to meet you gents, but I
’
m sorry, I must head back–
”

“
– go! You
two
sit down and have some coffee while she works on that dinner.
”
Maria gave Vince a peck on the cheek, then disappeared into the kitchen.

They were in a small drawing room, with a couch and a few chairs. Raxx took a seat on the couch next to Vince
’
s, who was up filling a pair of mugs from the percolator. Wentworth sat in one of the chairs, taking off his jacket and folding it over
the arm. Vince was glowing; and couldn
’
t
stop
talking
. With the occasional prod from Raxx, he told them about Maria, her reactions to what had happened, and bragged about her cooking skills.

“
She
’
s right pleased you decided to come over for dinner finally – it
’
s her way of saying thank you. So I heard you lads went to look around the town a bit?
”

Wentworth sipped his coffee, and balanced the cup on his knee.
“
Raxx showed me the sights… you know, word must travel fast around here. I heard a story or two about some fellows out in Blackstock, now that you mention it...
”

“
Oy – I
’
ve only mentioned what happened to a few close associates – don
’
t worry, I didn
’
t exaggerate!
”
He grinned,
“
Gotta make sure they get their stories straight, whatever those North-Routers might be saying about certain folks!
”

“
Supper
’
s done!
”
called Maria,
“
You
’
re in luck; you two showed up at just in time. Now get back here, and serve yourselves!
”

“
What?
”
shouted Vince,
“
We
’
re having a conversation in here!
”

“
Not if you want your duck warm, you
’
re not!
”

The next couple hours were warm and domestic. Raxx eased into the situation, but Wentworth was tense; he wasn
’
t a fan of having his name tossed around, and besides that the dinner felt like too much generosity.
But g
radually
the mix of
Maria
’
s high spirits and Vince
’
s bluster
set him at ease. H
al
f way through the meal
he was surprised to discover an idiotic grin
plastered across
his face. Maria proved to have a sharp wit as well as a sweet demeanour, and by the time they finished the
second
bottle of wine they were all laughing. They stayed away from heavy topics, chatting about local gossip instead. The evening, containing nothing of depth, touched something deep inside of him.

As the night came to a close Maria gathered the dishes. She refused Raxx and Wentworth
’
s offers of help, and scolded Vince when he stood up.
“
You broke my best pitcher last time,
dear!
”
With the wine gone, Vince set another pot of coffee to brew. He took the opportunity to
change the conversation to something more serious
.

“
I
’
ve been working on things with the cattle; took me a while to find enough buyers; crashing this many head onto the market means we ain
’
t going to get the best price, but from what I can figure, the difference would be cancelled out by our travel costs if we tried to drive them any further. Besides, I
’
m a tech merchant, not a cattle herder – and after last week I figure you lads feel the same. So here
’
s what I got:
”

The figure was split three ways, along with a piece for Billy and Verizon
’
s families. They both nodded and let it sink in.

“
Man, that
’
s… not too bad.
”
said Raxx.

“
Yeah, that
’
s a good deal. I think you did right by all of us.
”
added Wentworth.

Vince shrugged modestly,
“
It
’
ll take a couple weeks to sort out and get all the cattle sold, it ain
’
t gonna happen overnight, but I wanted to make sure you guys were happy with it
‘
fore I shook any hands.
”

They finished their coffees and left. Maria gave the both kisses on the cheek, standing on tiptoes to reach Raxx, and Vince shook their hands goodbye.

As they walked off into the night the scent of roast duck dogged their heels.

He
’
d overindulged.

The full dinner had left him logy. Combined with last night
’
s humid air, and the light from the stars,
last night
’
s walk
had been enough to make the naked earth seem reposeful. Struggling against sleep,
they
’
d returned
to the inn, and up to their room. Slipping out of his jacket and boots, he
’
d fallen into a deep slumber.

His dreams had been snarled and fleeting.

When he awoke the air had turned muggy, greyish light filtered through the cloud cover. The fowl still sat heavily in his gut, leaving him drained. Forcing himself up, he noticed Raxx stirring on the oth
er side of the room. Once the M
echanic was fully roused they went downstairs for breakfast.

He ate little; oatmeal, tomato juice, a bit of fruit. He went light on the coffee, sipping a single cup slowly. He stared at the toast on his plate. It was cold, and soggy with butter.

The money – it was bothering him.

It was too much, gratuitous. Any romance he might have been feeling had left during the night. He was left questioning just what he was supposed to do with it – and why he, of all people, should be the one holding the purse.

Sitting across from him, Raxx was inscrutable; his furrowed brows gave nothing away. Presumably he was thinking his own thoughts on the same topic, but whatever they were, the lonely slices of cantalou
pe on his plate suggested that
he shared Wentworth
’
s feelings
on the dinner
.

As if to confirm this, he put his fork down across his plate.
“
I think I
’
m gonna go for a walk. I want to stop into that machine shop we walked by the other day. See what sorta tech they got.
”

“
Thinking of picking something up?
”

“
Nah. Call it professional interest. I just want to see what they
’
re working on. Plus, I know one of the guys.
”

Wentworth grunted his farewell as Raxx left. He downed the tepid remains of his coffee and went back up to his room. The money would sort itself out. For now he
’
d had enough of dealing with other people
’
s problems and just wanted to get his mind off it all. He rummaged through his kit for the book Raxx had bought him the day before.

While browsing through the market they
’
d come across a stall full of prewar junk. The merchant was even selling a few books that had survived the years. Raxx had started flipping through them, staring hard to decipher the titles on their torn and faded covers. One of them had made his eyebrows stand up. He
’
d handed it to Wentworth and insisted on buying it for him.

It was a book of
‘
philosophy,
’
he said.

It didn
’
t come close to resembling any of the laminated
or electronic
publications that Wentworth was familiar with, and the name on the cover wasn
’
t one he recognized; but Raxx
’
s enthusiasm was such that he
’
d decided to give it a chance.

He cracked it open now, positioning his chair so that it was facing the door. He
’
d never figured out what others saw in the philosophers
’
ancient writings; they never lived up to their reputations. On an intellectual level he
’
d been able to admire the richness of the Greek
’
s logic, but at the end of the day they
’
d been wrong; any justification of their work smelled like an overextended metaphor. They were historically significant – if that even mattered anymore – but meaningful?

The Enlightenment was even worse. By then they no longer had the Greek
’
s excuse of ignorance to justify their navel gazing. Their writings were more passionate, even stirring at times, but they
’
d done nothing but add to his cynicism. It didn
’
t matter, Hobbes or Rousseau; whomever you subscribed to, you could find
‘
proof
’
for their rival premises. They were little more than tautologies; filters that distorted perceptions so that only confirmations could be perceived.

The idea of basing laws, actions,
life
on these ideals… well, at least he
’
d stood faithful to his own.

He
’
d expected Raxx
’
s book to be the much the same, only worse. A faltering attempt by a second rate mind, whom the uneducated Mechanic couldn
’
t be blamed for admiring. But the first couple pages were surprisingly lucid, and after a few more he
’
d forgotten his doubts. Instead of a dry, rambling, train-of-thought, the author switched back and forth between narrative and dissertation, constantly finding new threads. It was presumptuous, and yet it wasn
’
t claiming the truth from on high – it was entirely unlike anything else he
’
d read–

But it was definitely philosophy.

The day began to brighten. Twin shafts of light traced down on either side of him, outlining a thousand motes of dust. As the morning wore on the beams turned clockwise, and shrank back towards the window, fading as the clouds returned. He
’
d picked up the scent of the book
’
s core idea. Its threads were myriad, and interwoven, but they were coming together to form a larger tapestry. The sun was nearing its zenith when a sharp rap at the door broke his concentration.

His features creased in annoyance. Putting the book down on the dresser, and his hand on his gun, he opened the door. The
self-important
little man standing there allowed him to relax, but didn
’
t improve his mood.

“
Who are you?
”

The man gaped, taken aback by Wentworth
’
s abruptness. His sky blue clothes draped elegantly over his dark skin, and his hair was slicked back with some kind of grease. He had almost no chin to speak of.
“
I
’
m Jared Macomb,
”
he declared once he
’
d regained his composure,
“
Assistant to the Mayor. I
’
m looking for an
‘
I. Wentworth
’
and a
‘
Raxx.
’
Are they in?
”

“
I
’
m Wentworth.
”

“
Ah... I see. Is Raxx in then?
”

“
No.

“
…oh, well… Well then…
”
his eyes darted to the room, as if he thought Wentworth might be lying and that Raxx would be hiding in plain sight. Or maybe he was just seeking a way to escape the situation. Wentworth sighed mentally. Hassling the messenger was pointless, and besides, he probably had Vince to thank for this sudden interest in him – either that or Raxx was in trouble. He might as well find out exactly why the local Officials were feeling inquisitive.

“
Raxx isn
’
t here, but I am. What is it you want?
”

With Wentworth
’
s prompting, the clerk seemed to regain his pretension.
“
Ahem – the Mayor has sent me to request you attend his audience at the earliest convenience. If possible I am to escort you to City Hall immediately.
”

“
And why does he want to see us?
”

“
I am not full privy to that, but I believe it
’
s relating to an opportunity for employment. For the two of you.
”

“
Huh. Well, I guess I can see your Mayor right now, but I have no idea where Raxx is. If I like what I hear, I
’
ll pass it on to him later. How
’
s that sound?
”

“
That will be fine, sir. I shall escort
you as soon as you are ready.
”

The man was now eagerly polite, but his attitude was still annoying. Wentworth tuned him out on the walk over. A storm was moving in from the west, and the air was heavy. Underneath his jacket he was sweating and the humidity made his skin itch. The air had a metallic taste to it.

Jared took him to the town square. City Hall, it seemed, was in the library on the north side. The exterior wall was a series of large glass windows, still intact but filthy from the dust kicked up by the caravans. The walls were made out of the pebbled-concrete material common in old government structures throughout the region. After they entered Jared told Wentworth to wait in the lobby while he checked if the Mayor was free.

There was a secretary on Wentworth
’
s left, who observed him curiously, and a pair of doors on his right. Jared went through the further one. There were several chairs along one wall showing signs of
wear
, and a fake plant in semi-decent condition. He backed up against one of the walls, and crossed his arms.

At the back of the room was a set of glass doors which opened up onto the library proper; the area he was in was just some sort of foyer. Through them he could see a counter – the
checkout
desk. It was manned and the activity he saw showed that the library was still in operation. He guessed that City Hall shared the
building for archival reasons.

After a short time Jared returned and indicated for Wentworth to go in. The Mayor
’
s office was smaller than he
’
d expected. It contained the Mayor
’
s desk, coated with a fake chestnut veneer, and a green filing cabinet. There were a couple of chairs for guests, and a real potted plant in one corner. Over the beige textured wallpaper hu
ng paintings of boating scenes.

The mayor was an older man, hair greying, with thick-lensed glasses. He was wearing a sweater with a diamond pattern knitted into it; distinctly unstylish for Hope. To his right was a woman in her early thirties, with black hair and stern features. She wore a blue uniform with a kevlar vest, a utility belt, and an officer
’
s cap with a double gold braid going along the brim. Her bearing made it seem as if she was standing at attention, though she wasn
’
t. On her left hip was a semi-automatic pistol. Wentworth walked in and stopped at the desk.

“
Welcome,
”
said the Mayor,
“
Thank you for coming on such short notice. I
’
m William Talbot, Mayor of Hope. This,
”
he indicated the woman standing next to him,
“
is Patricia O
’
Neil, Captain of the Constabulary.
”

Wentworth shook the Mayor
’
s offered hand. He seemed anxious, the skin at the outside of his eyes was crinkling, but the woman was cold. He could tell that she didn
’
t care for his presence, but aside from that her face gave little away. Wentworth steeled his features, and slouched down in one of the chairs, crossing one leg over the other.

“
Pleased to meet you. So why did you want to see me?
”

The mayor
’
s face took on a businesslike expression as he leaned forwar
d.
“
I wanted to see you and your friend Raxx about a situation which the city has run into. Jared explained to me that Raxx was unavailable, but that
’
s okay for now. Before I get to that, however, I want to confirm a few things I
’
ve heard about you. I hope you don
’
t mind? I just need to make sure that I
’
m dealing with the right sort of person. I understand you dealt with a banditry problem some ways east of here, town by the name of, uh
–”
he pretended to consult the papers on his desk,
“
by the name of Blackstock, yes?
”

“
If you
’
ve been talking with Vince he may have been exaggerating. But yes, Raxx and I dealt with the
banditry
there.
”