Rest.

(Knacker Wagon Chronicles - XV)

Lenny escorted Baye back to the barracks. Quietly, Lenny spoke to Baye, "After the witching hour, there's no more talking and no more lights in the barracks. Speak and you will made made speechless. That includes crying to your mommy. Light anything up and you will be blinded. You defecate in the bathroom, you will eat it. Clear?"
"Crystal," replied Baye. Bug was still outside the front door. Instead of greeting them, Bug was transfixed by his finger. With a confounded expression creased in his forehead, he was staring at his index finger, pointing straight up out of his fist and mere inches in front of his face. Baye hesitated before entering the barracks and looked at Bug, trying to discern this weird fascination.
"If you survive the night, I'll see you tomorrow in the kitchen." Lenny leaned toward Baye, "Remember, stay on Sarge's good side and getting through the night gets a lot easier - got it?"
"Got it."

Baye entered the barracks. The building was dimly lit from the inside and not at all from the outside, as the sun had dropped well below the horizon. He could barely see. He trudged forward, counting the cots until he reached the one where Rev had left the nice picture of his dead predecessor. He was relieved to see it unoccupied and hoped he would be left alone throughout the night. Reaching down, he rummaged across the cot and located a pillow and blanket. He tugged them off and bundled them up. He knelt down and scooted himself under the cot. There was enough clearance for his body, as well as some extra clearance in case the cot sagged with a body on top of it. Better to sleep with potential rats and roaches than face getting assaulted, he thought. Besides, with clean bathrooms, and no food around, he figured the only varmints around would be the human variety.

He lay on the ground, tired but not relaxed. Baye could hear breathing, deep and rhythmic, so he was not alone but probably was the only conscious person in the room. The day had been one of the weirdest he ever experienced. He thought of Sarge, truly as Lenny said, and as he experienced firsthand, a man not to mess with. Sarge wanted him around, for who knows what purpose, but as long as the man everyone else seemed to fear was not an enemy, that was good. He didn't know what to make of Rev or Lenny. Either one could turn out to be the true 'first-mate' of the crew. Baye knew he could not afford to make the wrong guess on this fact. Both were sadistic, and given they were knackers, both had violent histories. Pudgi was in a category all his own. Baye had never met someone who dined on roadkill - and enjoyed it.

The interior lights shut off. A dimness remained and Baye could see small shafts of lights stream inside near the ceiling of the barracks. He hadn't noticed them before, but there were small rectangular windows high above the cots. Perhaps the witching hour had come.

Baye's mind was drifting. In time with the breathing, he envisioned a swarm of rats, advancing with each exhale. Pudgi was standing in the middle of them, gleefully picking them up and biting off their heads. More rats poured in. Lenny appeared in full chef regalia with a large bowl of food in one arm as he stirred its contents with the other. Pudgi steadily plopped the headless corpses into the bowl. Rev entered and glared at Baye. "Will you EAT it?", he demanded. The entire scene exploded as he heard the cot creak under a strain. He could see boots by his head and a glimmer of metal as it receeded up through the bottom of the mattress, the cot springs groaning under released pressure.

Kitchen.

(knacker wagon chronicles - XIV)

Lenny escorted Baye outside the barracks. The complimentary fellow outside the door when Rev brought Baye to the barracks was still sitting on the front porch. "Hello Bug," said Lenny.
"'lo Lenny," replied Bug. "Hey, did the newbie get any smarter inside?"
"Well, Bug, he knew how to go inside, and I guess we've just confirmed he knows how to go outside."
Bug cackled gleefully. "If he knows how to eat, maybe he even knows which end to crap out of!" Baye was mildly put off by the exchange. He thought Lenny may be a crackpot but Bug was looking like a simple idiot. Maybe Bug was like Pudgi, nothing much to look at but somehow commanded a lot of respect. He doubted this, from what Baye saw, Bug was aptly named, and really, not much to look at.

They crossed a street running directly in front of the barracks. The ground was parched with weedy yellow-greenish scrubgrass interspersed among dusty pockets of dirt. The air felt cooler to Baye as the sun hung low near the horizon. Lenny marched up a short flight of stairs and yanked open a door to another building with similar frontage to the barracks. Pleasant smells wafted outside and Baye realized how hungry he was. If he didn't imagine where the food originated, he figured he could even eat. The entered a what appeared to be something like a diner. There were a few tables and chairs haphazardly strewn about and a counter at one end of the room. Behind the counter was a crew of men bustling to and fro, sliding plates of food onto the counter. Lenny grabbed a tray and set a plate of food upon it. Baye followed suit. He saw a tuft of hair on the edge of his plate and decided not to examine any closer.

Lenny took his place at a table. As Baye moved to sit, Lenny grunted out an "Ahem."
"Pardon?" asked Baye.
"That seat is taken," said Lenny. Baye shuffled to the next seat at the table. "Ahem"
"Taken too?" asked an incredulous Baye.
"Yes, they're all taken," said Lenny. Baye rolled his eyes and walked to another table.
"Dude, they're ALL taken," said Lenny.
"What do you mean ALL?" asked Baye.
"I mean, every seat in here is not for you. Go outside if you wanna sit. Or else stand and eat, I don't care." Baye was hungry enough to not want to fight. He stood and manage the best he could to hold his tray and eat with utensils in a dignified manner. He didn't bother looking over at Lenny for he didn't really want to start any trouble.

Pudgi swung the kitchen door open and held it wide, announcing "Stand UP!" On cue, Lenny stood and looked at Baye, presumably to make sure he was still standing. Sarge marched through the kitchen door and headed straight to the food counter. Hamm entered behind Sarge. All three newcomers loaded up with trays of food and found seats and the same table as Lenny. Only after Sarge seated himself did the others also sit. Nobody paid Baye any attention and left him standing in place, struggling with his dinnerware.

There was no conversation at the table. Forks clinked against plates and drinks were supped but no words uttered. Baye wondered if his presence prevented discussions he was not privy to hear. He would have appreciated the distraction, as he was not fond of looking too closely at his food. It resembled a coagulated stew, pureed to an indiscernable clump. The tuft of hair was itself disconcerting, but not exclusively. Some of the darkened splotches on the brownish matter had the distinct outline of legs - cricket or roach maybe. The overall coarse and gritty texture of the food denied tactile confirmation of his suspicions. So much the better. Finally, Sarge broke the silence.
"Vengeance put on a show today." He paused for another bite. "They're due for a beat down. If they were in this camp we'd ambush them just outside the walls. Fortunately for them they're not in Nowhere. Tomorrow we need to run a patrol along the northern boundary and I'll take the van south - maybe we can provide some push against the other Nowhere crews. Lenny, take Baye with you and run the northern patrol. I'll cover the night calls."
"That's the newbie, right? Baye's his name?" asked Lenny. Sarge didn't answer. He merely looked at Lenny and nodded slightly.
"He's not a moron so try not to get him killed." Sarge pushed his chair from the table and stood up. Everyone else moved to stand up as well. Sarge turned and left the kitchen. After he exited, everyone remaining at the table sat down again to finish eating.

After he was done, Lenny got up and motioned for Baye to follow. They headed out of the kitchen. The sun had fallen below the horizon. "Dude, you're not allowed to used the barrack bathrooms yet, so relieve yourself outside. Get some sleep. Since I need to TRY to keep you alive tomorrow, I need you fresh."

Discord.

(Knacker Wagon Chronicles - XIII)

Baye continued scrubbing a pristine toilet. If he did have to eat off of it, as Lenny said, it would be clean. Though, from what he could tell, it was already clean before he began. The porcelain was spotless, as if no one had ever used it. The entire bathroom had a pleasant aroma. Lenny had lapsed into a thoughtful gaze once more.

Baye concentrated on the crack between the floor and the toilet base, without looking up at Lenny. Not even a line of grunge was down there."So, Lenny...," Baye started conversationally, "where do you fit in the System?"
"I don't fit, newbie. That's their problem. This whole place is filled with cogs. All grinding away for the machine, for the System. I'm a crowbar that jams up the machine. Sarge, he's just a big cog. He's a puppet of the System. You gotta watch out for that guy - he'll send you on some fool's errand and you'll end up in a bodybag. Why? Because someone higher up cog told him to and that toadie fell in line. I'm on to him, unlike most of the rest of the crew.
"Sarge is all sweet with the guards. He's sending them all sorts of money earned by the crew. Sarge is building all sorts of favors. He'll tell you some fairy tell about someday leaving this place. How he can make sure that happens. He's all yada, yada, yada, freedom granted by Justice and getting back to good society. But make no mistake, he's got privilege here and he's not going to lose it, even if he has to bury you."

Baye waited for Lenny to continue, but after a prolonged pause he prodded Lenny further, "How come he hasn't buried you?"
"Hmmm. Smarts, newbie.", Lenny slow drolled, "I'm on to Sarge and Rev. You see, Sarge is top dog and Rev is his main lackey. The rest of the crew are sheep. I've got connections. I'm onto them and they don't know it. So when I sense them coming after me I'm gone - I'm leaning on my outside sources and dodging that bullet." Lenny hesitated. "You know, newbie, you survive long enough, I can see what I can do for you too."

Baye's suspicions were aroused. "What keeps me from turning you in?," he inquired.
Lenny jumped in with a response. "Just try it. Either Sarge does you in for trying to turn in a loyal leutenant. Or I do you in for being stupid. Either way I win and you lose - badly."

Baye stopped scrubbing. He was satisfied with his own handiwork. "Alright, good enough?" Lenny stood up and walked over to the bowl. He stared intently along the rim, the handle, the top of the tank. Baye was puzzled, but let Lenny continue with the inspection.
With his face inches from the toilet surface, Lenny said, "You know newbie, good hygiene is important around here. Pudgi, for one, knows all about that - he's got a knack for cleanliness. He's very particular. He'll go nuts if this bathroom has anything wrong about it. Ahhh, looks good enough for me... Let's go."

Lenny walked over to the bathroom door and pulled it open. He held it for Baye to exit first. "By the way, you know that dead guy you saw in the picture. Rev lied, he wasn't killed by another crew. He was killed by Sarge and Rev."

Prison.

(Knacker Wagon Chronicles - XII)

Rev flicked the photograph back onto the shelf. "Consider it your first personal effect. This was supposed to be his cot. It's yours now. He didn't even get it warmed up."
"What was his name?", asked Baye.
"Lucky Eddy." Rev replied. His thin lips stretched into a toothy grin. Baye was growing to hate that expression. Rev could really wig him out. What he hated more was the thought of Rev telling some future sop how 'Lucky Baye' kicked the bucket - his life reduced to satisfying the pleasures of a sadistic maniac.
"Anyhow, gotta run. Sarge has more interesting business for me to take care of. I'm done babysitting you. See if you can survive the rest of the day." Rev left Baye standing before the cot. Baye wasn't sure which would be more interesting to Rev, finding out Baye did indeed survive, or finding out he did not.

The day had been a long one. His legs felt weighted down by lead bricks. The cot was looking mighty inviting. Besides, a person needs to actually use something for his ghost to haunt it. He sat on the edge of the cot. It was stiff but not entirely uncomfortable. He swing his feet up and leaned backwards. He could feel his mind swimming with the onset of sleep.
"You the new guy?", a voice asked.
Through closed eyelids, Baye responded to the intrusive noise, "Yeah, genius, what gave it away?"
"Genius yourself, if you want to survive a while, you'll learn better to know what's around you." Baye opened his eyes and cocked his head to one side then the other. The voice was coming from his immediate right.
"What's it to ya?", Baye asked.
"I've been waiting for the 'new guy'. I wish you arrived a little later. Like never. I was just catching up on my beauty rest and now you've bothered to show up. Let's go, you got toilets to scrub." Baye held his tongue. Rather, in his sleepy state, he just couldn't think of a good rejoinder. "Catch." Baye received a brush and bottle of cleaning fluid. He was relieved it wasn't merely a toothbrush.
"Name's Lenny. I don't care who you are 'til tomorrow. First prove you're worth knowing." Apparently, Lenny didn't have quite the charm that Rev carried. Baye hopped off the cot and followed Lenny out a side door.

Given the dreary nature of the compound at-large, Baye was surprised to see the bathroom in near pristine condition. How odd, he thought, that such care would be taken at the lavatory. He hadn't seen a single woman around anywhere.
"Scrub the bowls good. Make them shine. You might be eating off of one tonight," Lenny said. Baye got to work. Lenny watched for a few moments but appeared distracted, like he was mulling something over in his mind. Baye pondered if he could surprise Lenny. One quick move, and he could throw Lenny off balance. A second move and Baye could have Lenny drowing in a bowl of toilet water. But that wouldn't be the stall in which Baye would want to eat.

"So, newbie, how do you like the scam?" Lenny asked.
"Scam?" replied Baye.
"Yeah, this prisonless scam."
"Uh, sure looks like a prison to me."
"No, no, no, man, you haven't figured anything out yet, have you?"
"Hmm, let's see, armed guards, sniper towers, concertina wire, barriers, and complete with prisoners like us, what's so hard to figure out?"
"You don't get it. We're not prisoners in that sense."
"But we are prisoners."
Lenny creased his eyebrows. "Oh yeah, we're prisoners; we're prisoners of the System. We're under the hand of the Man. We're under the Thumb of tyranny."
"Yeah, like I said...," said Baye.
"You think those towers are for us? You think those guards are staring us down? Follow the money, newbie. We pay for them. We've paid for the towers."
Baye was baffled. Maybe Lenny had been sniffing too much toilet cleaner. He let Lenny continue.
"This whole place... this is our protection. We need a refuge from the good society. If we didn't have camps like this, like Nowhere, here, we'd be gone in a heartbeat. Every time the good society got their undies tied in knots they'd look for an excuse. What better, than to blame everything on us, and then take their frustrations out on us in a most violent way."
Baye noticed the cleaning fluid was rather powerful.
"We're outlaws newbie. That means what's done to us is outside the law. No repercussions, at least from Justice that is. We're in constant danger, newbie." Baye was picking up on the idea that Lenny was a talker. That was good to know. Eventually Lenny might say something worthwhile. There might be a lot of manure to endure, but Lenny might be prone to revealing secrets.
"The Man finally figured out that less laws can mean more control. Strip away laws protecting us and we cower. We do the bidding of the Man without any law to say we must. But we must if we want to survive. We're the colonial Georgia. We're the settlers of Australia. We're the new penal colony. Only we're not in a new land, we're in camps like Nowhere. Then the Man has the gall to say we're not in prison. We may not be under lock and key but we're still prisoners. We're prisoners of the System."

Parade.

(Knacker Wagon Chronicles - XI)

"Let's go. We need to get to the barracks." said Rev, as he started walking away. Baye noticed that the rest of the crew had piled into the van. He was learning that despite the unpleasant qualities each crew member had, they did work rather efficiently as a unit. For the sake of learning, he'd go along. But he was getting tired of wearing the ridiculous pink No Splat shirt.
"We walk, they drive, kind of unfair isn't it?" Baye queried.
"Yup", Rev retorted.
"Whatever you do, don't take off the No splat shirt."
"Vengeance Crew comes here too?", Baye asked.
"No, they're part of another camp. There's a bunch of crews here and they're just as bad as Vengeance. You gotta watch out for them."
"What gives with the shirt, are they like vampires or something and this stupid shirt is blessed with holy water to ward them off?"
Rev spun on Baye and glared at him. "Vampires only drink blood, Baye. Knackers are worse."

They walked through the compound. Dull, gray, concrete structures were everywhere. A fine dust covered the roads and walkways, adding a bit of grit to the air. Scrub grass and weeds
predominated the floral landscape. Baye half-expected John Wayne to stroll out of a building,
carrying a rifle in his hands and pair of sidearms on his hips. The buildings had a geometric
arrangement - they weren't scattered randomly about, rather there were long lanes like alleyways between rows. At the end of any given row was a tower, complete with sniper's nest. Baye had difficulty with the notion he was not in a prison. The layout of the compound was designed to accomodate kill zones. He could quite clearly see heavily armed guards marching around in combat fatigues and bullet-proof vests and assorted riot gear. He, by contrast, was armed with merely his wits. He didn't mind the guards having a disadvantage.

They approached a cluster of people. Rev didn't bother to slow down or acknowledge them. They, however, took delight in noticing Baye. The catcalls descended upon them. Lurid, suggestive body motions were cast as well. They reminded him of Tweed. He shuddered. Rev tried to steer around them but they blocked the path. They were composed of a handful of scraggily looking derelicts and a pair of guards. Baye couldn't see the guards' expressions through the visors on their helmets but the jostling of their shoulders let him know they were enjoying this spectacle.
"Hey, can you dance real purty-like?" snarled one rough-looking man.
"You boys are marching so fast, looks like a parade", jeered another.

Rev grabbed the front of Baye's No Splat T-shirt. He clenched his hand into a fist, gripping the fabric. "Lay off, meatheads! You wanna smell trouble! Smell this, you louts!" Rev pulled on Baye's shirt, forcing Baye to take a couple steps closer to the ne'er-do-wells. One stepped forward and sniffed towards Baye. He sneered and raised his arms in a surrending fashion.
"Alright, alright," he said, dejectedly. Rev released his grip on Baye's shirt and pushed his way through the cordon. The catcalls continued for a while longer. To Baye, the shirt just stank, and nothing like holy water.

Rev marched on toward a non-descript building. There was a lone person resting on its small front porch. "'lo Rev," he said. "Is the newbie as dumb as he looks?"
"Dumber."
"Maybe he'll live longer than the last moron."
"Maybe. I wouldn't hold my breath." Baye felt a flash of anger but refused to show any emotion. Rev strode across the porch and opened the door to the building. Baye followed Rev inside. The interior was dim. They entered a long narrow room. There were two rows of cots along the length of the room. Baye stopped at the entrance. Rev walked halfway down the room and leaned over a cot. He reached toward a wooden shelf, about chest level, on the wall.

Rev picked up a photograph from a wooden shelf and handed it to Baye. "That's what happened to the guy you're replacing. Within 24 hours of his pickup he tried to escape from this camp. You can see what the result was when another crew got hold of him." Baye studied the picture. It looked like the inside of a garage or warehouse. There was a body lying on the floor; mouth slack, arms and legs splayed, eyes, not even staring, but missing, and a huge cavern where his torso should have been. The top of the skull had an unnatural straightness and shortness to it.
"You could say he lost his mind."

Delivery.

(Knacker Wagon Chronicles - X)


Sarge drove them slowly along the perimeter road, razor wire to one side and depressingly dull buildings on the other. They passed several guard towers, Sarge kept a steady unwavering speed. Baye thought he could make out the pointed ends of several guns. They took the first turn inward into the compound, toward the buildings. Sarge slowed as they meandered past some more concrete structures. A few were identified: Administration, High-Priority Processing; most were non-descript, almost indistinct from one another. From this vantage point inside the compound, Baye could see people walking about. Baye figured those that were uniformed were guards and the remainder may be prisoners like himself. He thought it a peculiar prison that the guards and prisoners would mingle so freely amongst each other. Sarge pulled into a front driveway for a building identified as Low-Priority Processing and came to a stop.

Tweed opened a side door and everyone started piling out. "You're coming too." Rev said to Baye. Sarge and Pudgi walked away from the van up to the front door of the building. Rev steered Baye to the back of the van, joining up with Tweed and Hamm. Hamm pulled on a lever on heaved backward. A four foot wide, two foot deep metal box emerged from the lower spaces of the van. Hamm continued pulling and Baye was surprised to see the box extend about eight feet in length. Hamm moved towards its center and tugged upward on a pair of indented latches. A pair of doors flipped open and and blast of cold air poured out. Baye could see the possum and deer carcasses inside. Tweed stuck his arm in and grabbed the headless possum. He flung it at Baye.

"Catch. That's your's to carry. See if you can manage the heavy load" said Tweed. Baye sneered as he caught the furry projectile.
Rev steered a four-wheeled dolly with a large wooden platform close to the meat locker. Hamm reached inside the locker and hoisted out the two halves of deer carcass. Baye was happy to realize the cold storage dampened most of the olfactory pleasantries emanating from the meat piles. They carried their load through the front door of the processing building. Sarge and Pudgi were inside, busy negotiating a price for the carcasses, at a countertop.

"Alright, let me see it", said a manager. He swung open a small half-door next to the countertop. "Bring it in. Dump it over there in the corner." Rev pulled the dolly and Baye walked behind with his furry delivery. They unloaded their cargo as turned away. The manager moved over to the pile and examined closely. He took a sniff or and pulled up a leg. "Alright, Sarge, this stuff is good", said the manager. He haggled with Sarge a little more and agreed to a price. The manager opened a compartment under the countertop and thrust his hands inside. After a couple studious moments he pulled out a small amount of cash and handed it to Sarge. Sarge took the money and stepped away, heading back to the van.

"That guy actually paid money for that crap?" Baye asked Rev.
"One man's trash is another man's treasure." Rev replied. "That's how it works though, most of the time we pick up dead stuff and haul it back here. That's small potatoes what we just got there - enough to whoop it up for a night or two, that's all. Maybe buy some gas or fix a broken part."
"And why on earth would they pay cash for that stuff?"
"Everything has value, Baye. Some things are just harder to appreciate than others. Besides, it's a small incentive for us to go get it."
"What are they going to do with it?"
"Oh, they have uses. It's cheap meat. There's always a market for it. They pass it along, processed of course. I suppose it helps pay some of the cost to run this place." Baye thought of the political-types and how they wanted to keep the penal system as low-cost an operation as possible.
"But who would possibly pay for this processed meat?" Baye asked. No sooner had the words left his mouth than he realized just who would pay for it. The government had it's hands in many operations - prisoner cafeterias, nursing home facilities, soup kitchens, even school lunch programs.

Rev saw the dawning realization on Baye's face, "Bon appetite, Baye."

Greetings.

(Knacker Wagon Chronicles - IX)


Conversation inside the van ended. Rev picked up his book and flipped to a bookmarked position and began reading. Pudgi had never diverted his attention from the video screen in front of him. Baye slumped into his seat. He still had the pink No Splat T-shirt adorning him. Apparently his line of questioning had come to an end. Since no immediately threatening actions were being directed toward him, he dared to close his eyes. Even though it was midday, he was exhausted. Dealing with wierdos was taxing work. The dogs were snarling and barking outside and as long as they were outside and he was inside he wasn't too concerned. The van stereo system had been turned down from body-shaking to simply loud. Baye tried to reflect on the day but found himself too distracted, his mind was racing and he couldn't focus.

Baye was jolted by a van door slamming. He hadn't perceived any passage of time but his surroundings were different. Rev was no longer in the van and the stereo had been turned off. Pudgi was gone as well. Baye thought it strange he would be left alone. He made to examine the interior and see what kind of crap they stored inside. This was cut short by the scene in front of the van. A pickup truck had pulled up, flanked by a pair of motorcycles. Baye wished he hadn't fallen asleep and missed the arrival of these vehicles.

A handful of people were standing around the spot of the roadkill. Sarge was looking menacing as usual. The expression had worn a set of wrinkles into Sarge's face. Baye figured Sarge looked that way at birth. He must have come through the birth canal pissed off. There wouldn't have been any crying by Sarge. Rather, when Sarge popped out he would have smacked the first person he saw and told them to quiet down the hysterical woman behind him. Rev and Tweed were standing astride Sarge. Facing them were bikers on the motorcycles and a couple shabby-looking men.

Gestures were being exchanged in a stern and almost threatening manner. Sarge kept pointing to the ashes scattered on the roadkill. Baye could hear indistinct verbal barrages, punctuated by arm waving and hand waggling. He tensed, waiting for a fist to fly at someone's head. Baye tried to discern weaponry but no one appeared armed. Sarge stepped backwards, with Rev and Tweed in delayed synchronization. Sarge lifted his arm and sent aloft a middle finger salute. He never broke stride and never turned away from his opposition. His opposers hoisted birds in response and turned away.

Doors opened all around the van and people quickly entered. Baye heard footsteps overhead and noticed everyone but Tweed had climbed into the van. Baye took advantage of this arrangement and positioned himself next to Rev, not leaving an empty seat next to himself. He had no desire to put up with Tweed's antics again. Moments later Tweed filed into the van.
"Everyone accounted for?" barked Sarge.
"Aye, sir," said Rev.
"Dogs loaded," said Hamm.
"Anything on the wire?" asked Sarge.
"All clear," reported Pudgi.
"Only bother with the very close ones," said Sarge.
Sarge hit the accelerator and they were off. Baye didn't wait for an invitation and blurted out,

"Friends of you guys?"
"You could say that. They were in a good mood," said Rev.
"Talking about the weather?" suggested Baye.
"Well, they had to decide whether to suffer a butt-kicking." Rev paused. "We have meat to deliver, so we didn't press the issue."
"Deliver?" asked Baye. Rev didn't answer. A bored expression overcame him and he looked around for his book. Baye guessed this was all he'd learn for now. He was content to learn when he could, and patiently observe when ignored.

While they covered long stretches of road the ride was quiet. Sarge avoided highways and large roads. They drove through small towns but skirted around large populaces. There weren't many people to see but they did pass by the occasional vehicle. Baye thought about constraints. He had his freedom but it was under constraint. He thought about the people in the vehicles they passed. What constraints did they live under? Did they have any more freedom than he? Did they have a car full of maniacs? What do they talk about when they get to their destinations? 'Hey, Bob, I had a hell of a commute. Picked up a blood-soaked hitch-hiker and he wanted to eat my lunch. Weird, huh?' Probably not.

Baye saw a roadblock on a side road. Sarge turned off the main road and pulled up to the barrier. A pair of guards approached the van. Sarge rolled down his window and leaned out to talk to them. In the distance Baye saw a series of buildings. A razor wire fence stood between them and the structures. The defensive measure appeared to surround the buildings as far as Baye could see. The road headed off to the left and turned beyond his vision, following the razor wire. The buildings were of dull gray masonry, strongly suggesting concrete. There were regularly spaced towers on the outermost perimeter of buildings. Baye's heart sank, a prison was the last place he wanted to be. The guards waved Sarge on. He waved in response and rolled up his window. They passed by the barricade and headed down the road.

"Home sweet home," muttered Rev.
Baye was unsure about this new development. He was feeling miffed that a prison of any kind was in his future. "What's this?" he protested. "I thought knackers did serve time in prison!"
Tweed and Rev burst into laughter. "Dude, you expect to be put up in a Holiday Inn?" ridiculed Rev. "We don't serve time here, Baye, we sleep here for our protection." Baye was thoroughly confused. He felt cornered, he thought about how to bust out of this place. He studied the towers and felt worse by what he saw. Yes, the guards had machine guns. They didn't have hand-held automatics, they had mounted high caliber, rapid fire blazers.
Sarge spoke up, "Welcome to Nowhere, Baye."

Questions.

(Knacker Wagon Chronicles - VIII)


Once Baye and Rev got back inside the van, Baye collected his thoughts. Baye had a million questions. He needed to find out if this crew was simply nuts. If these guys were completely irrational he had to escape soon, for it would only be a matter of time before his disposal became a matter of their pleasure. For dignity's sake, he did not want to die near Tweed and Pudgi and have his remains desecrated. He had to learn about the operations of the crew - were they rational at all. He wanted to interrogate Rev about the crew members. With Pudgi in the front seat he didn't want start with Pudgi's oddities.

Baye looked out the windshield. Sarge had started the ash ritual again. Blackened bits, were sprinkled on the site of the possum body with Sarge walking in a slow circle. After a couple revolutions, Sarge paused, unzipped his pants, and unloaded on the pile with a stream of urine. Baye waited for the solemn moment to end. He turned to Rev and asked, "What's up with the pee thing?"
"Genesis, Baye" said Rev in a throaty whisper. "And Laban said to Jacob, Behold this heap which I have cast betwixt me and thee. This heap be witness that I will not pass over this heap to thee, and that thou shalt not pass over this heap unto me, for harm." Baye hesistated to respond, looking perplexed.

Rev continued, "Demarcation. This is our territory. Every time we make a collection we mark our passing. It's a broadcast message to any other knacker crew that wants to score big around here to stay away. We're not exactly on friendly terms with our neighbors - be it other knackers, people, anything really. We would kill any knacker that crosses into our turf and this let's them know how far our borders go."
"Rather brutal isn't it?", asked Baye.
"Not really, there's plenty of resources for us to survive on. Plenty for other knackers on their own turf too. The only reason they would pay us a visit is to raid us, and do us grave harm. So, obviously, we don't want that." Rev grinned slightly.
"Are the other crews as messed up as you guys?"
"Hah. We're alive aren't we? That counts plenty in our favor."
"So when this Vengenace Crew shows up, what, you're gonna knife-fight them, sic the dogs on 'em?"
Rev contemplated Baye's question. "Basically, yes", he said.
"And when they whip out a gun to throw lead in you guys... game over?"

Rev smiled at Baye's naivety. "That's the nuclear option, Baye. We're on work-release. There's rules imposed on us knackers. You think the Justice enforcers would allow us to have such toys in our hands?! We can't have anything that magnifies projectile impact - no guns, no arrows, no crossbows, not even lacrosse sticks. They have eyes, Baye, they watch us all the time. Sarge wants you in the van, not because Vengeance would kill you, no, it's because you might do something stupid to bring Justice on us."

Baye wondered how paranoid Rev was. He thought maybe Rev just provided a clue to some possible mental instability. Rev was certainly sadistic. He was lucid but sometimes countenanced bizarre expressions. With the ice broken, and Rev ready to talk, Baye steered his next question toward the crew.

"Seriously... what's Pudgi gonna do in a fight, bite 'em?"
"Don't underestimate Pudgi; he's worth more alive than dead. Pudgi is our breadwinner. Sarge won't let him fight."
"Well, what about you? Sarge got you in here because you're some sort of pacifist preacher?", charged Baye.
"Hardly. Hamm's the preacher. Ex-preacher. He gave me all his earthly goods to me, consisting of exactly the one good book, and hung up his collar so-to-speak. He's on a spiritual journey now. You know, I enjoy a hot cup of tea and slumbering up next to the fireplace to read - that's how I know what I know." Rev said mischeviously. "No, I'm a scoundrel. I'm a chameleon. I just choose to personify Hamm's old profession." Rev's face tightened. His lips turned inward and his gaze intensified on Baye. "I'm here to knock you senseless if it becomes necessary."

Baiting.

(Knacker Wagon Chronicles - VII)


"All this for roadkill?", muttered Baye. He was mystified as to the great ordeal displayed to come to this spot. They raced to arrive at this location, this non-descript stretch of road, with nothing to boast of but a furry flesh pile. The urgency seemed all out of proportion to anything he could relate to. The crew were not only excited by the chase, they were moreso by its finish, the fact that they arrived to this destitute place first, to lay claim to a dead animal. Baye had to take a closer look, maybe there was something special about the deceased rodent.

He casually walked to the animal. Its head was crushed. Dark, purple stains emanated from the flattened skull. The mouth was slightly agape - maybe the beast was shrieking. The remainder of the body wasn't too bad off. One could believe that it had been hit only once. On closer inspection Baye thought is was an oppossum; the bald tail, black-tinged greyish-white fur, the hand-like appendages were still distinct. It didn't even give off much of an odor, only slightly metallic. There wasn't a tremendous amount of blood, just what squeezed out of the skull and intermixed with brain matter. No, Baye thought, there wasn't anything extraordinary about this creature.

Tweed pushed his way to the animal. He pulled out his knife and slashed downward into the neck of the critter. With another swing, this one from the side, he speared the animal through its neck with the blade thrusting into the rib cage. "HAMM!" Tweed yelled, "Let out Beauty!" Tweed thrust the knife high into the air above his head, the carcass skewered upon the blade.

"Catch!", he yelled toward Baye. To Baye's horror, Tweed flung the carcass straight towards his face. Instinctively, Baye pulled up his arms and caught the object. Anger burned through him and he glared Tweed, who was busy laughing. "Better turn around, man!" Tweed said.
Baye whipped his head around in time to see Beauty charging toward him. "Crap, crap, crap, crap", gasped Baye. From the direction Beauty had charge, Baye saw Rev waving his hands. Baye heaved the possum to Rev.

"Good one!" yelled Tweed. Baye was in no mind for a compliment by this maniac. Beauty halted, spun around, and lunged toward Rev. Rev waited for a couple gallops and tossed the carcass to Tweed. Tweed in turn, waited for Beauty to charge toward him before tossing the object back the Rev. This back-and-forth proceeded a few more times then Tweed ran with the carcass toward Beauty. Sweet, thought Baye, the idiot is going to get some well-deserved quality time with the dog. Tweed flipped the carcass upwards. It landed with a small thud atop the van. Beauty went ballistic, snarling and growling and clawing at the van. She was desperate to climb the sides. Too bad, thought Baye, just when this stupid game could have become entertaining. Rev and Tweed egged the dog on.

Baye quickly tired of these antics and looked for a distraction. He saw Sarge and Pudgi talking by the squished head. He thought they might be less bothersome and walked toward them. Pudgi bent over as if examining the head closely. He further stooped on all fours as if to get a good look. Then Baye watched him lick the freshly severed edge of the head. Baye was aghast. Pudgi stood up quickly, cupped his hands and shouted, "Hey guys! This one's exquisite - don't let the dogs get it!" Baye felt woosy.

Hamm chucked debris in a wide spray from the back of the van. Beauty arced away from the van and rushed to the scattered tidbits. As Beauty snarfed down the apparent food morsels, Hamm collared her. He stroked her in a soothing manner.

Sarge spoke, "Tweed, get up the ladder, check if we're gonna have company. And get that possum in the meat locker."He turned to Pudgi, "No... get back in the van." Pudgi lumbered obediently away. Baye waited for some direction. He was dumbstruck and at a loss for his next move. Sarge looked at him but said nothing. "Rev! Get up here and keep an eye on Baye. He's gonna get in the way if we have trouble."

Baye was braced for more insults and felt Rev's hand on his shoulder. To his relief, he heard merely "Let's get in the van." He turned and watched Pudgi climb in the passenger door. Baye made his way, along with Rev, toward the van. Atop the vehicle, Tweed was busy rotating a crank. A metal pole protuding from the roof of the van was extending skyward. Tweed stopped cranking after the pole reached a height of about twenty feet. He Tugged a lever on the side of the pole and short extrusions snapped outward along its entire length, on opposite sides of the pole. Tweed clambered up the pole using the extrusions as hand and foot rests. "Baye, having fun yet?!", he called down.

Sighting.

(Knacker Wagon Chronicles - VI)

The van rumbled down the gravel road. Sarge drove steadily, hidden behind a pair of sunglasses. Pudgi had donned a set of headphones and flipped open a laptop. Baye couldn't tell what Pudgi was doing but whatever it was consumed Pudgi's attention. Rev had returned to reading his book. Baye thought he could make out the words The Holy Bible from the elaborately scripted cover. Hamm had closed his eyes and may have slipped off into a deep slumber. Tweed was absorbed with the passing road. Baye didn't mind the solace.

Sarge had turned down the stereo, its rhythms no longer pumping through his chest cavity. The van trundled onward, its occupants all self-absorbed, including Baye. He drifted into the past again. Fairness is subjective, he thought. Was his sentence fair? Was his conviction fair? Was it fair that he lived and the other guy didn't? Did any of it matter? Especially now did it; he second guessed himself about pondering the past at all. First order of business was to survive, only then maybe he could address matters of philosophy.

"Whoa, Whoa, WHOA!", exclaimed Pudgi.
"Speak up, Pudgi", replied Sarge.
"A new sighting just came over the wire - and it's close," said Pudgi. "It's near our border with the Vengeance Crew."
"Sweet," said Sarge, with a broadening smile. "Any luck and we'll meet them head on. Give me directions Pudgi."
Tweed interjected and Baye lost track of the conversation between Sarge and Pudgi. "Hamm, wake up!" bellowed Tweed. "We got a new sighting. Make sure the pups are ready to go." Tweed tugged at a side pocket of his pants. His hands brushed against Baye. Baye scooted away just in case Tweed might be up to some new game. Tweed unsheathed a knife that was nearly a foot long. "You guys have your happy sticks? Sorry, Baye, you don't get a happy stick today, you've had some bad vibes." Tweed grinned. Baye watched Tweed's handling of the knife with exquisite care. He ran through his options of what to do if he found the happy stick coming towards him. Tweed fondled the blade's edge and appeared satisfied. Baye relaxed once the happy stick was resheathed.

Rev had set his book down and was fumbling through a duffle bag. "Hey, Baye, try this on." He tossed a cloth object onto Baye. Baye lifted it unsurely. "Baye, you get to be our mascot. It might save your life. Then again, it might not." Baye snapped the cloth to examine it more closely. It was a pink shirt with a large red circle. The circle had a diagonal bar across the middle. Inset inside the circle and slashed by the bar were the words 'NO SPLAT'. "That's our motto Baye", said Rev.
"Maybe you won't get run over," suggested Tweed. Baye looked perplexed.
"Well, put it on!", Rev urged. Baye obliged. He was no longer combative now, he had moved into observation mode. As stupid as he felt, he would pick his battles, and this suggestion was one he could live with. "It comes pre-scented," said Rev. "Charm and Beauty won't maul anyone wearing it. They don't know you're stink yet, so we're doing you a favor."
"Thanks a million,"snorted Baye.
"Besides, you look so pretty now you might be a distraction", said Tweed.

The van lurched through a turn. Sarge was in some sort of hurry. The chatter from Pudgi remained excited. Sarge kept an even tone. Baye felt himself pressing into the metal wall beside him as Sarge accelerated. The van was tearing down a asphalt road. Baye could feel the tension rising within the van. Another turn and this time the tires squealed in agony. Sarge pounded the accelerator again. He flipped the stereos on and cranked up the volume.

"Just up ahead, less than a mile now!" yelled Pudgi. Every bump in the road jolted the van. Sarge ignored any potholes. He steered straight on, pushing the van to greater speeds. Charmed yipped beneath Baye, as if registering a protest. Baye watched the terrain flash by. His nerves were rattled but it looked like everyone elses' were as well. He looked ahead for whatever this sighting could be. A car? A person? A UFO?

He was launched forward as Sarge slammed the brakes. He dove into Tweed who in turn rammed into the back of Sarge's unyielding chair. "Everyone OUT" bellowed Sarge. The side door slid open and he felt himself pushed out. He unceremoniously sprawled onto the ground. He was stepped on at least once, and kicked some more, as the rest of the crew piled out of the van.

"Hey! Mind the mascot!", hollered Baye. He stood up quickly. Everyone had taken off running. To Baye it looked like a pre-arranged pattern. They were searching for something - or strategically spacing themselves. The crew was fanning out in an oval, spreading most quickly beyond the front of the van. Baye walked in that direction. He saw an empty road - no cars, no people, no UFO. He didn't see anything worthy of all the fuss. Perhaps it was trap, maybe the border with the Vengeance Crew was an ambush in-waiting.

"Got it!" yelled Tweed, farthest up the road. The others sprinted toward Tweed. Baye joined the rush. There was an object laying in the middle of the road.
"It's a fat rodent!", added Tweed. "And it's ours!"

Knackers.

(Knacker Wagon Chronicles - V)

Baye slumped into his seat, contemplating his future. His present company obviously did not partake in his vision of escape. He would have to observe, learn and wait. He was no stranger to living with one eye open at all times. This lot of characters had their edge, but he'd seen this before. Before, was as in prior to the conviction. That verdict demarcated his two lives. His first life was his own and he knew it ended with the sentence. He recalled the stern message from the judge, 'Baye, by your choice to avoid a sentence of hard labor until you die, you are hereby designated a knacker. You are now an outlaw, forbidden to rejoin society.' THUNK. He rubbed his hand at the memory of the falling gavel. The back of his hand was still raw from the needles on the bottom of the gavel that imprinted 'KNACKER' into his skin.

He knew little about knackers. Clearly, times had changed since his romanticized view of expired farm animals riding off to glue factories. In his prior society they weren't discussed much. They were a class of dispossessed people, little acknowledged and mostly ignored. They weren't permitted in the large cities like he was from so he had never met any. They were set apart by the legal system and kept apart by physical and legal means. Knackers had their role in the at-large community but intentional distance was maintained between them and the good members of society. In fact, there were several clusters of castoffs, each contributing their own peculiar way to the summary economy. So knackers were not unique but they did monopolize their trade. As far as Baye knew it was limited to roadkill cleanup. He didn't know how they maintained their autonomy nor how they survived. Perhaps, it was as simple as Pudgi seemed to demonstrate, they lived off what the land provided.

At his judicial hearings Baye was presented with bleak choices. He knew life without parole and hard labor would mean a life last not lasting very long. Politicians of his day were always quick to regale the public with tales of cost-effectiveness and efficiency of the penal system. Even Baye could figure out that a penny saved on an inmate meant a penny to spend on pork, of course, at the largesse of the political benefactor. That fact was coupled with the obsolescence of the death penalty. Public morality had moved in a manner to require lengthy and ultimately costly proceedings to continue pursuing state-sactioned execution. Inmates spending a long time on death row equated to great public expense.

Accounting minds had come up with alternative schemes. Inmates were regarded as a potential labor pool. Cost-effective punishments were devised for prisoners condemned to never return to good society. Many prisons were turned into self-contained enclaves. Guards were recast as maintainers of order inside prisons to containers of inmates, more of a border patrol. For most of the high security facilities, the internal operations of prisons were largely handed over to prisoners themselves. Low-security facilities still had advocates pressing for inmate reform. Not all work needed to be confined to concrete enclaves. The job of a knacker and others of its kind were created to reduce prison populations and exploit the economic benefits of prisoners working outside the walls.

Baye had little interest living under jungle law in tight confines. He took the only other chance offered him, to work under the penal system. At least he could see sunlight once in a while. He'd also heard of people who at least claimed to have been knackers at one time but had been released. So he'd wait. If he had to endure his distasteful companions for a time, he could do so. Baye still had hope.

Motley Crew.

(Knacker Wagon Chronicles - IV)

Everyone, including Baye, watched intently as Sarge walked through his machinations. The booming sounds of the van speakers still reverberated. Baye felt disconnected from the scene before him, as if the windshield were a video screen with a stuck volume knob. Sarge would take a step, reach into a bag, and sprinkle fine grainy material on the ground. While most fell in a darkened clump, gentle winds drifted soft white strands across the road. Step, reach, spill. The sequence played itself out a dozen times. Baye saw Sarge's lips move, apparently mouthing words made inaudible by the speakers. Sarge had walked in a circle, completely around the location of the carcass. A quick tug at Sarge's trousers, and Baye saw a stream of fluid splash upon the gravel. A few seconds later, Sarge tugged again, paused, then marched to the van. No one inside had moved through the entire ritual. The driver's side door flung open and palpable relief broke the tension within the van.

"Everyone ready?" barked Sarge.
"All present, including Baye", said Rev.
"Carcass loaded?" asked Sarge.
The man sitting next to Baye piped up, "Loaded, and Charm was fed."
"Let's go." said Sarge. He gunned the engine and the van lurched forward.

Baye felt the man next him pressing upon him. "Hey cutie, don't mind the squeeze, I don't need to bother with niceties.", he said. Baye felt like slugging him. Better yet, he thought through the motions he would do... Left hand to back of head - grab hair and pull. Twist own body upward as right hand smashes into victim's forehead. Full weight pressed down so victim falls below bench. Push toward cage. Let Charm have a snack...
On second thought, Baye grinned and responded, "Don't I get romanced?"
The man laughed. "Spicy, aren't we?" he said. He adjusted his position away from Baye. "Tweed."
"Baye."
"Hamm", interjected the fellow next to Rev.
"Baye here didn't like his first day of school today," smirked Rev. "Said he wants to go home to mommy. He didn't even want to pet the little doggies."Rev paused for effect but Baye didn't rise to the insult. "Boys, looks like Baye needs some educating. He doesn't know how good he has it." Baye maintained his silence.

Tweed spoke, "So, Baye, how soft are you?" Tweed poked Baye in the thigh with his forefinger.
In a flash Baye spun on Tweed, grabbing the finger. He thrust it into Tweed's groin with his right hand. With his left arm wrapped around the back of Tweed's neck, Baye put his chin on his ear. "Soft enough?", he whispered.
"Boys, boys, boys!", shouted Rev. "Play nice!"
Baye relaxed his grip and settled back down.
"Alright, Baye, that's soft enough," said Tweed. Tweed didn't look at all the worse for wear. In fact, he looked calm. Baye sensed Tweed had toyed with him, that maybe his maneuver would be far less effective in a real fight. "We're gonna be buds for awhile. It's good to know wether a newbie is a wuss or wether he's gonna be worth something." Tweed smiled. Baye suddenly understood the hazards of gingivitis. Discoloration was the upside of Tweed's mouth. His breath would drop a pit bull. Alcohol didn't come strong enough for any sloshed woman to risk this foulness. Baye fought the revulsion, he felt his nostrils curdle.

Rev broke the infatuation. "What' they got on you Baye? It must be good. Only lifers are allowed on the knacker wagons. Only, life is short, Baye. Especially around here." Baye held his tongue.
"Eye for eye, right Baye? Life for life. Was it intentional?", pressed Rev.
"Yeah", grunted Baye.
"Same", said Rev. "Same with Sarge and Tweed, not so with Hamm and Pudgi." Rev looked upward. Baye waited for him to continue but Rev continued looking upward, as if pondering the patterns of stains on the ceiling. After a lengthy pause, Rev muttered, "Welcome aboard, Baye. Welcome to Nowhere."

Charmed.

(Knacker Wagon Chronicles - III)

Baye hurried into the van, somewhat relieved to have a few precious breaths away from Pudgi and Sarge's company. Two opposing benches ran along the walls of the midsection of the van. The far bench was occupied by a scraggly-looking fellow so Baye slid onto a near seat. To his left, a pair of empty captain's chairs faced the front of the van. A steel wall on his left sidled the benches. A loud thud indicated to Baye that the carcass may have also entered the van, thankfully on the other side of the metal.

"Keep your fingers above the seat", stated Baye's companion. Baye was learning to take advice quickly and so placed his hands on his knees. After a moment's hesitation, his curiosity got the best of him and he leaned over to see under his seat.

"BOWWOWOWOWOWOWOW!"

Baye nearly soiled himself and barely kept from plunging into his companion. The fellow helped Baye right himself. "I see you met Charm. His bark isn't as bad as his bite. He would've bitten your fingers off. He likes people. He likes human. Go ahead and sit back down - just be more careful." Baye took his time to park himself above Charm.
The man spoke again, "I hear Beauty licking her chops. You must smell delicious."
"Where the hell's Beauty?", shrieked Baye, turning his head about so as not to lose an ear or nose.
"You're Okay. I'm sitting above Beauty. Just don't look her in the eyes."
"Cute pets.", said Baye, gathering his senses.
"Hey, how do you get out of this gig?", asked Baye.
"Shhhhh."

Baye waited for more but after a couple moments realized he might be waiting in vain. "Uh, how do you get out of this freakshow?", he implored. The man sighed. Baye waited some more and realized he was reading a book. Baye was beginning to feel testy and thought smacking the guy's reading material across the van. Then again...

The man slowly closed his book and looked at Baye. He wore an inquisitive expression, as if mulling over a parting thought from his book. "Have you no self respect? I'm Rev." He looked at Baye squarely. "You don't even want me to know your name?" Baye was somewhat taken aback. "Sarge says that's the one thing we always have... our name. You should learn to be more proud of yours." Baye felt Rev studying him... and waiting.
"Baye."
"Well, Baye," said Rev. "That's better isn't it. And God brought the animals unto Adam to see what he would call them. Genesis two nineteen. You're not an animal, are you, Baye?"
"Tell that to Charm", retorted Baye. Rev smiled.
Baye heard a metal-on-metal sliding sound, followed by scrambling paws beneath him. To his relief, Baye didn't see the metal cage below him move, rather he heard Charm banging himself through an apparent opening in the metal wall to his right. Sloppy snarfing sounds followed. Baye looked back to Rev, who was grinning more than smiling. Baye thought it best to take his cue from Rev.

"Didn't your judge tell you there's no turning back? Or did you just forget that detail. Then again, I suppose life sentences can make a man lose his bearings. Oh, you can get out... I just don't think you'll want to." Rev paused, still grinning. Baye saw how thin Rev's features were, how close his skin lay upon his face, how Rev's grin accentuated his skull-like gaze. "The only option, and it wouldn't be yours to make, would be how to dispose of your body." Rev paused for effect. "Charm is but one taker. We could just play Wishbone and see whether it's Charm or Beauty who crushes your sternum and rips your heart out. I always put my money on Beauty; sometimes Charm wastes time with the liver." Rev visibly savored Baye's discomfort.

Two more people barged through the side door. One slid next to Baye, the other next Rev. "Fresh kill" said one breathlessly."We're loaded up. As soon as Sarge is done we're outta here." The front passenger door swung open and Pudgi plopped himself into the van. Everyone, including Rev, looked intently out the front windshield. Baye was thankful for the respite from Rev's eyes. Baye too glanced out the front of the van to see what was so beholding. Out on the gravel road was Sarge, walking deliberately around the area the carcass had lain.

Rev spoke softly, "for dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return."

Sarge.

(Knacker Wagon Chronicles - II)


There was nothing but fields on other side of the road extending as far as he could see. An occasional tree broke up the monotony. Baye wondered what Pudgi was talking about. Some guy, Sarge, was on his way with a knacker wagon. He envisioned some farmer leading a two-wheeled horse-drawn cart with a dead cow onboard. Baye scanned the fields and saw nothing but sky and dirt. Gentle breezes reminded him of the two halves of deer across the road.
"See, I told you!", squealed Pudgi. Baye figured it didn't take much to get Pudgi excited. His rotund form was bouncing up and down in the middle of the gravel road. Baye casually turned his head to look where Pudgi was pointing. What was headed toward them wasn't exactly a marvel of the 19th century.

Whacka - whacka - boom - boom.

A conversion van was grinding up the gravel road, huge plumes of dust trailing behind.

Whacka - whacka - boom - boom.

Deep bass notes with an indistinct treble overlay were clearly emanating from the vehicle. The van was moving at high rate of speed, fast enough to make a by-gone farmer jealous. Baye thought that, maybe, if the van careened along fast enough, it could clip the still vertically jostling Pudgi and he could be soon rid of Pudgi and all of Pudgi's 'friends'.

Whacka - whacka - boom - boom.

As the van neared it slowed to a halt. So much for postive thinking, thought Baye. The bass was strong enough to vibrate his chest cavity. The treble was articulate enough to carry its 70's-funk theme music. "What the...", uttered Baye. He couldn't see through the front tinted windshield. Nor could he help the spreading smirk on his face. Bet there's some fuzzy dice hanging from the rear view mirror, he thought.

The driver's side door opened a man hopped out. Dust obscured his figure until he strode past the spreading swirls. Baye had never seen someone so chiseled. The dudes arms were like steel rods. Even the lines on his face appeared to fall into formation. Feeling stupid, Baye lost his smirk and made quick motions to stand up. He noticed Pudgi had already come to attention.

"Pudgi, how's the newbie", growled the man.
"He's okay, Sarge. See, he moved the deer to the side. But, oh, I forget...something else..."
"Name's Baye?", Sarge directed to Baye.
"Yes, sir" answered Baye.
"I see you're not a moron. That's good. Get in the van, we're going."
"Uh, sir, whoa, wait a minute..." pleaded Baye. "I'm not, uhhh...." Sarge fixed a glare on Baye but said nothing. "Uhhhh", was all Baye could manage. With a steady glare on Baye, Sarge pulled a metal spoon out of his pocket and flipped it to Pudgi.

"YESSS!!!" yelled Pudgi, as he caught it and ran to the deer. Baye tried to return a look at Sarge but found himself casting his eyes anywhere but on Sarge's face. After a few uncomfortable moments Pudgi came scampering back. He handed a couple things over to Sarge. Baye noticed Pudgi had large dark stains on the front of his trousers.

"Baye, pay attention", said Sarge. Baye saw that Sarge was holding an eyeball between his thumb and forefinger. Disgust spread across Baye's face. "Baye, this is your manhood." Sarge squeezed the eyeball. "Baye, this is what I think of your manhood." Sarge tossed the squished matter to the ground. To Baye's horror, Pudgi dove after the eye, popping it into his mouth. "Pudgi, you're still a moron", said Sarge, non-chalantly.

Baye found himself moving toward the van. The bass still reverberating his chest. "Cheer up, Baye" said Sarge, "we're on the road to Nowhere." Baye saw a couple people he hadn't notice before dragging the deer halves to the back of the van. As he climbed into the side door, he saw a pair of fuzzy dice on the rear-view mirror. He also saw the smaller pairs of fuzzy dice hanging off the larger pair.

Pungent.

(Knacker Wagon Chronicles - I)

Baye hadn't known what to expect on his first day of work. Staring into a split-open carcass, he presumed it was going better for him than for this poor beast. He shuffled his feet and decided it wasn't what he saw so much as what he smelled that made his stomach swirl. It was a sickly, sweet metallic pungency. Blood was still pooling, not yet coagulating. Animals, people, aren't supposed to be turned inside-out, thought Baye. The olfactory assault confirmed this for him.
He looked up from the meat pile and let his eyes follow the gravel road far to the horizon. He turned around and saw the same image, more gravel road with another horizon. There was no trace of the vehicle that must have devastated the deer. Baye humored himself with the thought of the new paintjob someone just got for free. You get what you pay for, opined Baye.
With nothing better to do, Baye figured he could do a favor for the next sap that came along by hauling the carcass to the side of the road. He grabbed a front leg and a hind leg and gave a tug. Immediately, he regretted this move. Offal came pouring out the middle of the pile accompanied by fresh waves of gut-smell. He stumbled backward, almost losing both his traction and his last meal. He covered his mouth with his sleeve and tried to suck some air through the cloth. When the tears cleared from his eyes he took in the meat pile again, well, meat piles now. Not wanting to consider himself a wuss, he charged at one pile. Grabbing one protuding leg, he hoisted it along the road and dropped it at its edge. He repeated this with the second pile. Relieved and contended, Baye staggered to the far side of the road and sat down.
"Ahem, ahem."
Startled, Baye looked for the source of the noise. At no time did he think he was accompanied by another soul.
"Do you mind if I help myself?", said a squat looking man.
"What?", Baye said lamely.
"Congratulations. Sarge will be impressed. He'll say you're not a moron. Not everyone figures out to move the carcass aside on their First Kill. Sarge still thinks I'm a moron." With that said, the rotund man plunged his hand straight into the fresh kill. Baye saw him pull and tug and finally rip up a chunk of flesh. "Ohhhhh, I like the good stuff." The chunk of meat went straight into the man's mouth. Horrified, Baye was dumbstruck by this individual, obviously savoring every chew, with blood running down off his chin and dripping off his fingers.
"Why stop there, I'm sure there's some brain left around too." said Baye, rather sardonically.
"Dude, that would be disgusting." said the man, an appalled look on his face. He looked at Baye rather quizzically. "Oh, forgive me.", he said. He thrust his arm toward Baye, intending a handshake. "Hey, the name's Pudgi. P - U - G - uhhh, - I - E. Pudgi." His expression giving way to a friendly smile. Baye stared that the hand, still wet with blood.
"Uh, Baye, the name's Baye." He lifted his hand but didn't quite manage the nerve to grasp Pudgi's hand.
"Don't mind the blood. You get used to it. Boy, that's some good eatin'."
"Yeah", responded Baye, not at all convinced.
"I don't mind you being a priss - most guys are.", retorted Pudgi. Baye tried not to take offense but there wasn't much that wasn't offensive today. "Hey, good job today. Like I said, Sarge will be pleased."
"Sarge?"
"Yeah, Sarge. You'll find out. Sarge, he's the man. The man in charge of the knacker wagon.", said Pudgi, unmistakably in admiration.
"Great. Well, you tell Sarge I think you're a freakin' weirdo and I think this job stinks and I think this is my last day."
Pudgi burst out in laughter. Bits of meat spewed onto Baye. "Oh that's funny. That's very funny. You're a funny guy. I like that." Pudgi laughed harder, more spewage descended upon Baye. "Wait 'til Sarge hears that. I can't wait for you to tell him." Pudgi continued into peals of laughter. By now, Baye had scooted far enough away to dodge the spittle. "In fact, I see Sarge coming with the knacker wagon now."