Triumvirate
by: Dwayne Prophet
Twitter: @thaprophet516
An open cab jeep rumbled over loose dirt. Within, a confident man rode shotgun. Slouched in his seat, he looked more like a sun bather than a leader. An uncoordinated column of desert worthy vehicles trailed him. Like a stampede, they kicked up a hell of a lot of dust and left criss-crossing tire tracks in their wake. To their west, stood a blue mountain. Over a band of haze, it appeared to float above the horizon.
"Chief Keegan, West Column reports a convoy of reinforced vehicles. The Ironsides. Without a doubt."
"Who stirred them up."
"Sir?"
Chief Keegan eased his bandanna under his mouth. "Send back word that any forces heading the same way are friendlies, until we reach the destination. Also, tell East Column the same, if they see something."
"Got it!" He barked the orders into his handset.
Keegan raised a monocular. He peered over his driver and glimpsed the gunmetal black riveted plate emblem looming over the West Column.
They rode abreast of those black monstrosities, five big rigs of old with double trailers reinforced to handle the recoil of its cannons. The Ironsides; known for shelling towns, then raiding door-to-door. Rarely, did the rumored fifteen-hundred souls abroad disembark as most outposts surrendered as soon as they raised their cannons.
"Those things are nothing but sitting ducks." Keegan lowered the monocular. "How's East Column?"
"They're aware of the Ironsides and any other forces."
"Get me Beasley."
"He's on your line."
Keegan scooped up the handset nestled in the center console.
"Beasley here."
"Any intel about Ironsides' Leader?"
The receiver scraped against Beasley's beard. "I've really put the screws to all our sources, Chief, but I've got nothing."
"It's not important. I know who's coming. This day, maybe, is why I began our organization." Keegan sighed. "A silly wager."
"Sir! We'd follow you even if you disbanded us today. Even if it ends up bloody." Beasley paused. "I'd personally follow you to Hell."
Keegan chuckled. "Enough of this coffin chatter. Where's the beacon?"
"Fifteen kilometers."
"The men need to hear me out."
Beasley exchanged Keegan to the PA line. A fanfare played over the radio lines. Every swear-laden conversation silenced as Chief Keegan spoke:
"Red Rats, Sound Off!" For a moment their ruckus dominated swirling dust and over-revving engines. "You've known me for my antics and raids. Every settlement knows our name: The Red Rats! Fears our engines and dare not rest while in our territory!"
A cheer surged from behind him.
"Alright, I have a bit of sentiment to handle ahead. Not to downplay our efforts, but the Red Rats have a humble beginning. I bet a close friend, and sibling, I'd meet them here and by this time, ten years past, one would be the strongest force in these times. We swore this."
"I wouldn't support any other venture!"
"We'll whip those Ironsides!"
More and more encouragement came over the radio until it became a fervor.
"Your standing orders!" The chatter ceased. "Beasley will command the Main column. East and West will hold with him. I'm gonna go catch up!"
"I'll take the Weasel from here."
Keegan left the driver and radio operator behind. His entire might; one-hundred vehicles, nine-hundred and sixty men, posted a half-mile from the beacon. He cut the radio off. Keegan wanted quiet as he met up with his sister and close friend.
"You weren't as reliable back then, my friend." He pat the dashboard. "They should've been grateful, I saved them from Meenham-Myer." Keegan smirked. "I owe them a raid or two. Hmm!?"
A handmade tent pitched just below the beacon caught his eye. It trembled under a constant, scouring wind. Its orange tint couldn't have done well for blocking sunlight. They were all survivalists at one time. White would've deflected the sun. Keegan came to a sliding stop. A cloud of dust washed over him for a moment. A coughing fit made him press his bandanna to his mouth. It subsided.
A whining engine sound echoed across the desert. He clicked on the radio just to listen.
"Lead Ironside vehicle let out a motorcycle!"
"West Column to Bease: Do we pursue?"
"We're holding until Chief Keegan returns."
A smile crossed Keegan's face as he cut off the radio again. "Loyal to the end."
The whine rose to an annoying crescendo. Dressed in a tattered cloak and full face tan camo helmet, the rider stepped off the dirt bike with a tight leather bodysuit. The black visor betrayed nothing about the rider, but Keegan felt an icy stare from within.
Without warning, the rider stripped the helmet off in a flourish.
It was a she.
She then popped a button at her collar, revealing curves constricted by sleek leather. Feathery brown hair caught the wind. Loose, thin, strands wrapped around her slender neck.
Through tears, Keegan could recognize his sister before he could mouth her name.
"Val?" He embraced his sister. Being a head shorter and seventy or so pounds lighter, he stooped, wrapping his bare arms around her.
Her arms hung at her sides. Her face like stone, though something deep inside managed a wry smile.
"Alright, big guy." She patted him on the back.
"I miss my little sis." He put her down.
"Ironsides, huh?"
"Yea, they're my guys." She peered around. "Where's the numbskull?"
"Numbskull!?" The tent spoke. "Hold on, I'll be out in a minute."
Keegan unzipped the front flap halfway.
"I'm naked."
"Oh." He shut the flap. "He hasn't changed a bit."
A minute later, Jenkel emerged from the tent. A lanky man with spiky flaming blonde hair, striking blue eyes, and pale skin despite evidence of desert living. He adjusted his white cargo pants which were stained below the knee in dust. Jenkel snapped a blue suspender over a navy t-shirt.
"Guys!" He looped an arm around the siblings. "Has it been ten years?"
"Yup." Keegan said through tight lips.
"You haven't chang-" Jenkel flopped away from the siblings.
Keegan held a stiletto between his knuckles aimed up where Jenkel's throat was.
Jenkel landed on his butt and supported himself with his arms. He sighed.
"It's so tense." Jenkel crossed his arms over his knees. "I'd thought ten years would heal those wounds."
"Never!" Val blurted. "It's made me want this day more than ever!" She drew twin snub nose pistols aimed at both men.
"Definitely." Keegan fetched a monster of a .44 tucked in his belt. His ropy arms held the revolver steady at Val's head.
"Phsst." Jenkel laid back and pointed his fingers miming guns. "Seems here, pardner, we've got us a good ol' stand-off."
A chuckle escaped from somewhere. Another broke out somewhere else on this scene. Hardened faces seized and gave in to laughter.
Val and Keegan trembled from their own hearty laughs.
"That did it, huh?" Jenkel crossed his arms and eyes. "Pew pew. Pew pew."
Keegan and Val doubled over, slapping their knees at Jenkel's antics. They caught a glimpse of each other. The glee ceased. They aimed their guns at each other.
"Are you putting those down?"
"Are you gonna drop that lump of metal?"
"Jokes are Jenkel's job, but no."
"On Three, then?"
Ok. On Three."
"Three," They said in unison.
The siblings holstered their weapons.
"Whew, you two are so dark." He peeked at the Weasel. "Oh my god, you kept it up. "
"Last you saw the Weasel, it had this awesome feature where it spewed white smoke."
"Yeah, fifty miles out of Meeha-"
"Don't mention that hell hole!" Val interrupted.
"Easy. I owe that place for the Weasel, but I can only pay in bullets."
"You call this catching up." She hugged herself. "If you're serious, the Ironsides pledge their cannons. Meeham-myre should burn."
"What's all the hate for?" Jenkel shrugged. "Meehan-myre wasn't that bad."
Val hung her head. "I've never been the same since ... since," She fell to her knees, arms wrapped around her upper body.
"Val..."
A wicked smile cracked her solemn visage. Her bangs cast an eerie shadow as she stood.
"They've paid in full. And then some." Her eyes returned to their sultry slits as she brushed the hair out of her eyes. "I should thank them. I'd take my men ten times out of ten over innocence."
"I suppose they fear you."
"Jenkel; foolish through and through." She clenched her right hand into a fist. "You suppose right."
"What about you, Jenkel?" Keegan scanned the horizon behind him. "Where's your army?"
"On the way." He chuckled. "So, Keegan, why do the Red Rats follow you?"
"I motivate," He rubbed his chin. "I motivate them to get what they want. The Rats were just that; scavengers. We took from those who had, not unlike Robin Hood, we kept it for ourselves. And doled out extra in hopes of patronage. It worked." Keegan thumbed at the Red Rats on the horizon. "Like my sister; society failed us. We starved and were cheated. The few got their way. Society hasn't changed. We share a like mind, but mine lacks damage."
"Harsh, but true." Val nodded.
"No one would wish those trials on a sister. I rebelled. This trauma inflicted by immoral men seated above the masses-," Keegan laughed. "by society. New society; Meeham-myer, Colt Point, Pheonix, White Sands, name one and they put misjudged folk at their head. We're guilty of this as well. I've killed." Keegan motioned to Val. "She has admitted it. Without asking, shes done much more killing than that. What about you, Jenkel? Confess!"
Jenkel tightened up. His shoulders scrunched closer to his ears.
Val snapped up a pistol. "He's got nothing. This is all a lie. Jenkel has nothing; not a soul to his cause." She thumbed the hammer down. "Pathetic."
Her shoulder exploded in gore. An air-splitting crack preceded.
Jenkel smirked. "I have friends. I've been selfless. You're my friends, but you've both are too far gone." He peeked at a glimmer of light upon the blue mountain floating over haze.
Blood ran over Val's fingers clenched her wound. Keegan stripped off his bandanna and knelt beside her.
She scowled at him as he tied it over her wound. "Get off!" Sweat dropped down slick strands dangling over her face. "I'm not weak. Leave me!"
"For a moment, be weak. You're hurt. I'm helping you. Relax."
She drooped her head and sobbed.
"This is odd, Jenkel." He tied the knot tight, coaxing a whimper from Val. "You were beaten by Meeham-Myer himself."
"I hated him for it." He reached into his tent and fetched a satellite phone hanging on a tent pole. He punched a number. "Hold your fire!"
"We can't let this go. The Red Rats and Ironsides are a scourge."
"No. Not like this."
"This is bigger than you." He spoke away from the phone. "Take the male." Jenkel heard before the call ended.
"Keegan!"
Keegan bolted. He stumbled towards the Weasel. His boots crunched on loose dirt. Jenkel counted the steps. One. Two. Thr-, His belly burst. A dark stain grew on his back. The impact lifted and dropped him on his front.
"Keeg...n." His tongue felt thick in his mouth. Jenkel hazarded a step forward on weak knees which collapsed under him. His tears stained the dry soil beneath his chin. Terse muttering caught his attention. Val spoke into her collar:
"Promote the gunner who fulfills my wishes." She breathed harshly. "Fire on us. Now! My final command of the Ironsides! Fire! Don't fail me! FIRE!"
"Val." He rubbed away tears. "Stop them! Stop it. It's suicide." Jenkel crawled to her side. "You're selfish. You, Keegan, the old society and new." He stifled a sob. "I fell in a sinkhole." Jenkel's tears dried. "A helpful bunch that settled in a stalactite cave saved me. I can't say I welcomed their help. Many times, I tried to escape and my wounds opened. They tied me down until I healed. When I was healthy, they untied me and packed me a sack." Jenkel stood up on his knees and grasp Val's shoulders. "I felt bad. They did all this for me and wanted me out."
Jenkel tilted Val's head up. "I stayed. I forgot our past and I started fresh. They're my friends too." He let her head drop. "I thought you'd do the same. Let your wounds scab over. But, you picked at them every waking moment. The trauma's a scar now." Jenkel hoisted her over his shoulder. Her lifeless hand dropped the pistol.
"No, leave me, Jenkel!" She struggled against him. "End this melodrama," She yelled into her collar. "Fire now!"
'BOOM! BOOM!' The cannons sounded off.
Jenkel lumbered with the slender Val on his shoulder.
She cackled. "It's done, my gunners are former military. Fuel-Air rounds that'll asphyxiate us before we burn. It's over."
Jenkel chucked her into the rear bench seat of the Weasel. Val howled as she fell onto her injured arm. Before Val could curse him, he'd scrambled away.
Keegan lay on his side. His heart thumped, weaker and slower as his life spilled onto the sand in a river of crimson clay. Keegan knew his sister; She'd fled by now. The Ironsides coming to her defense. The Rats, they wouldn't move, they trusted him to come back. They didn't worry.
"This is it..." He breathed. He barely stirred sand under his cheek.
"C'mon, Keeg, up with ya."
Keegan replied with productive coughs. "Where's Val?"
"You're going with her."
"To Hell, then."
Jenkel straddled him and hooked him under his arms. "Gotta help us, Keeg."
Keegan stood on his own feet, despite a baseball-sized hole on his abdomen. But, his breaths were shallow.
"We're walking. The Weasels right there. Doin' good. The Weasels good, right?"
"Y-yeah." He coughed a few flecks of blood laced spittle. "Filters were clogged. Wasn't m-made for the desert. It's all... Treat her good…"
"Stay awake, Keegan, we're almost there." Jenkel shook him. "A few more steps, c'mon!"
A long whistle made Jenkel hustle. Damn near lifting Keegan and easing him into the passenger seat.
"It's coming!" Val welcomed them with a sadistic shriek.
"Shut up." Jenkel breathed. He vaulted the hood and swung himself into the driver seat. Jenkel turned the engine over. He adjusted the rear view mirror and caught sight of a pair of dark rounds that soared above. Jenkel put it into drive. He jammed the gas pedal down. Rear wheels spun, digging into the sand. The Weasel reared up. Sand blew in a torrent behind them. The Weasel shot forward. Keegan pinballed in his seat. The whistle grew into a scream.
"Go! Go! Gooo-"
'BOOM!'
The Ironsides' artillery fell. Val, Keegan, and Jenkel vanished in fire.
"East Column! Hold your position!"
"Bease, we can't raise Chief Keegan and they fired. They killed him." The head of East Column yelled away from the intercom. "Open 'em up, Rats!"
Beasely heard the crackle of gunfire, over the roar of gunning engines. It's gestalt echoed through the Comms. "West to Beasley, what's the East doin'?"
"Those Ironside bastards fired on Chief Keegan. The East charged."
"We gotta bring the full might of the Red Rats on those Ironsides. We'll show 'em who runs these deserts!
"But, Chief Keegan-"
"We'd follow him to hell! Guess who's warming up the baths, Beasley?"
Beasley bit his lip. "All columns: Take it to those Ironsides! All or nothing! Red Rats!"