The next chapter!
Looking for chapter one? Here you go.
Road Trip:
Chapter 2
I like to think I'm a bit more observant than this morning proved. Normal people might say this in a, 'Oh I may not be the most observant person in the world, but I like to think I could spot a car,' but I say that differently than most because I am the most observant person in the world. Which doesn't say as much now, but the point still stands, Dad raised me better than that, it was time to reclaim my pride. I started looking around their van.
The first thing I noticed while Standoff and Bolt traded seats, allowing him to drive and her to sulk about him 'controlling,' is that they took my backpack. Where they put it? Probably in the back, the van we were in had a large back made for carrying many items. They took basically all my stuff except the little notepad they let me keep in my right pocket, but they did take the contents of my left pocket and put it in the unnamed girl's lap. Which wouldn't be as much of a problem if those contents weren't a loaded gun. Probably Standoff's suggestion, this other girl didn't seem bloodthirsty enough to think or say, 'I'll shoot him if needed.' Though considering the nervous looks she gave me... it would be best not to try my luck with her.
They clearly had just about ran out of room in the back though, in a few seats behind me there were several jugs filled with water and one filled with gasoline. And on the floorboards around us were a variety of items kept around for their safety, including Standoff's aforementioned 'glorified stick,' which was in fact a long quarterstaff with metal rings around the blood-stained ends. A crossbow sat on the ground next to a quiver as well, but presumably any other weapons were small enough to be kept on their person.
"So what do you go by?" Bolt's voice cut off my train of though, and I started feeling the vehicle move again. I looked at him and thought for a moment. I hadn't told anyone my name in a long while.
"Well," I replied, "my name's-"
"No, no," he interrupted once again, "Names are of the Old World." Standoff rolled her eyes. "What do you go by?" It took me another moment to process that, my brain was running a bit slow after it was slammed against the pavement. But I realized quickly that none of the rest of them went by a name, just a nickname.
"Think of it this way," Bolt explained, "I'm Bolt, I'm the mechanic. I get my name from that. That's Standoff, she's the fighter, took down the Champion of the Higg's Field's Raiders after a two hour tie. Or rather, a standoff." She what? I remembered Higg's Field's Raiders well, as I passed near their base a while back. First and luckily only time I've ever been shot at by a harpoon.
"That's Aid," he continued, motioning towards the girl who was still looking at me like a scared kitten. Cute, but terrified and with claws. "She's the doctor." A silence. "Nothing else really to say about that, as usual Standoff is the most memorable one." He and Aid chuckled. "But what do you go by? You got any title?"
What was I? I had always wanted while growing up to follow in Dad's footsteps, become a private detective and go on exciting adventures. He taught me everything I know about how to watch and pick up details, how to soak info out of a talker, how to catch a runner's trail. But what could I do here? What name could I-
"Brakes." Standoff said. We all looked at her, and she continued. "As a reminder. Besides, he could always change it later."
I chuckled at that. It could act as a reminder for me as well, I needed to keep my wits about me. "All right. Brakes it is." A silence passed before I asked a question. "So what is this about the Old World?"
I could almost hear Bolt grin. "Well, you see-"
"It's some bullshit he keeps saying," interrupted Standoff, who seemed to make a habit out of doing exactly that. "About how the Old World is dead, and we live in the New world now."
Bolt simply glared at her. "I thought you weren't listening all those times I explained this."
"No, just not caring." He sputtered at that comment.
"Not caring?" he hissed, but then sighed. "Well of course you weren't."
"What's that supposed to mean?" she snapped back.
As they continued bickering, I looked towards Aid. She had her lips pursed together in an annoyed but resigned expression.
"They do this often?" I asked. She simply sighed and nodded, and after a short silence between us I threw out another question.
"How do you feel? About the whole, 'Old World,' thing." She looked down and bore a thoughtful expression before responding.
"I... it's a simple fact that the world I grew up in is dead. But... Bolt goes really far with this concept. My name is all I have from the Old World because it's the one Mom gave me. So... Judith. That's my real name."
I smiled upon hearing that, but not because I knew her name. Because that look of worry on her face was gone. She seemed like the sort who was only comfortable when talking, not when listening. Not wanting someone who was scared of me to be responsible for keeping me in check with a gun, I asked another question.
"So... you're Standoff's what, cousin? Sister?" She looked shocked that I guessed this so easily. I never would have guessed if I hadn't seen them though, they acted completely different but looked almost the same. Wordlessly, she nodded. Shit, she was worried again. And now that I knew she was Standoff's sister...
Well I had a funny feeling Standoff was scarier with her bare hands than anyone with a gun could ever hope to be. So I resigned myself to closing my mouth and listening to their bickering for another hour.
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