Mabel
eased the pickup back into the Vixen garage in the lower levels of
Covenant. They were home. George was home, almost.
It was
the end of a long day. George took off his mask and helmet, allowing
him to finally feel the cool comfort of sweat evaporating naturally.
It had not been prudent to remove his headgear earlier since he had
been in a moving vehicle. Covenant's streets might be safe but in the
unlikely event of a traffic accident, it would have been terribly
embarrassing to survive the wastes only to meet serious injury so
close to home just because he had removed his helmet early.
George
got out of the pickup. He simply wanted to return home and get some
rest. It was late. He was very tired. He had worked hard. And he had
survived two firefights that day.
"Hey,
Squirt, can you fix our ride?" Mabel asked.
So much
for getting rest.
Tricia
started unloading the cargo. Their tribeswoman, Iona, had been left
in the wasteland since she could not enter the tower city.
George
surveyed the extensive damage to the pickup. There were bullet holes
all over the armor plates, especially at the rear. A few of the
plates at the back had cracked. One section of the roll bars was bent
a little out of shape. But he knew that the armor had done its duty -
few of the bullets had penetrated.
"Probably,"
George replied, "But I haven't much practice fixing vehicles.
You're better off hiring a proper tech to check everything."
The
armor replacement would be tedious but easy. Fixing the damage caused
by the few bullets that got through was the tricky part.
"Oh,
dollypops.," Mabel sighed, "I thought I'd be able to skimp
on the labor charges."
She was
expecting him to fix their pickup for free!?
Tricia
took their looted machinegun and dropped it on the floor. "We've
to settle all these."
"Let's
do that tomorrow," Mabel decided lazily. She took out her pack
from one of the lockers. "I want to find that client and get
paid first."
George
recalled that Mabel had been on a job with Iona. They had been sent
to retrieve an unknown object from a gang of wasters.
At that
moment, a man appeared at the entrance to the garage. "Have you
found it?" he demanded gruffly.
"That's
fast," Mabel noted.
He was a
big man, taller than Tricia. He had ill-kept black hair and he wore a
leather jacket, unzipped with a dirty shirt under. His gray pants
were creased and there was a patch of something black on one of the
legs.
There
was a scar above his right eye. Was the scar a fashion statement?
With advances in medical treatment, that scar could have been
prevented or removed.
The
Vixens did deal with dangerous people.
Mabel
removed a metal case from her pack and placed it on top of a nearby
barrel. She keyed in the combination to unlock it. Then she opened
the case and pulled out a stuffed teddy bear, which had a striped
beanie and a pink ribbon around its neck.
"Ooh,
you've found Ms Chika!" the man exclaimed delightedly, in a
totally lighter tone of voice. He took the teddy in his large hand.
George's
jaw dropped. It appeared that there were strange people even within
Covenant.
"Is
that what you wanted?" Mabel asked.
"Oh,
yes, Yes!"
"Then
you wouldn't mind paying us?" Mabel hinted.
"But,
of course!" He slid his jacket sleeve aside to reveal his
wristcom. "I can't thank you enough. I haven't been able to
sleep ever since I had to leave Ms Chika behind when the wasters
attacked. It made me so, so grouchy."
Once the
funds had been transferred and everyone was satisfied with the
transaction, the man left.
"And
there goes our happy, wordy, customer." Mabel sighed. "It's
good deeds like this that makes me love my job!"
Tricia
gave her the sidelong narrowed-eye stare. "You're just quoting
that from somewhere, aren't you?"
"Yeah,
yeah," Mabel confirmed, "I'm really in it for my shopping
budget."
Tricia
turned to George. "We'll transfer your share into your account
later, once we've sold off some of these stuff." She toed the
machinegun on the ground.
"Okay,"
George mumbled.
Shortly
after, George returned the armor that the Vixens had loaned him.
While removing the armor, he had found a few spots where glancing
bullets had cracked the protection. So he had been hit by stray
bullets. That explained the broken beads in the bracelet Iona had put
on him. It was fortunate that he had survived unharmed.
Collecting
his toolbag, George started for home. He needed a shower. Perhaps a
snack. After that would be his comfy bed.
As he
rode the travelator towards the megalift with his toolbag in his
hand, he passed under a dark innocuous bump that he knew hid a
camera. Yes, he was back within the safety of Covenant. Law and order
ruled, so unlike the danger that he had faced out in the chaos of the
wasteland earlier that day.
He would
face no peril while under the watchful eyes of the city's guardians.
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