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."