Utterly Mad

Bolt had returned to work and waited in line for his assignment. The foreman walked down the line handing out assignments until he stopped at Bolt. Looking over his list the foreman. “Bolt you’re scrapping the pile today.”

The pile was just a collection of random items that needed to be separated into parts for other work. It was also the usual assignment Bolt received since no one wanted to work the pile given just how long some of the stuff took to take apart. Grabbing his tool belt Bolt went to work.

The first item was a fridge. He wasn’t sure who had thrown it here or why but here it was. Taking the door off its hinges Bolt started taking it apart. That process took about fifteen minutes with his tools. From there his mind drifted as he did his work by muscle memory.

Elsewhere G had walked across the bridge with the others before splitting off to let Shorts drop off the salvage. Tossing the makeshift chestplate into a spot G hid his stuff in he quickly made his way to where a few of his ‘friends’ hung out.

Taking an offered blunt he took a puff before handing it back. One of them started to play some music as they sat there and talked for a while. Mostly about the mundane things in their lives, work and what they wanted to do. “Of course we’re just street rats so no one’s gonna give us a shot to do anything but dirt.” one of the guys said.

G had to agree with that. He’d never really had a chance at anything other than fighting and rigging tables and now the Shattered Helm had turned him away after he tried joining. And working with Blue hadn’t exactly panned out.

Grabbing another cigarette and flicking his lighter on G  pondered what he and the gang were going to do. Shrugging to himself G told one of the men “One of you keep an eye out for a guy in bandages wearing a turban, if you spot him pass him a sabre.”

That was when G spotted Isaac walking towards them. He looked angry. Hopefully he wasn’t angry at them G thought as he leaned against the wall and smoked a hand rolled cigarette.  As the old man neared G asked “What can us lowly street rats do for you?”

Isaac nodded to him as he said “I need people who can fight. I imagine you and your friends would be willing and I know you’re interested in some of my gear. How about a trade?”

G looked to the others who all nodded. None of them were strangers to violence so what was some fighting to them. “We’re gonna want and need guns. Lots of them. And some better armor than that scrap Blue made.”

“Deal. We’ll be leaving in a half hour, meet me by my truck and we’ll get everything ready.” Isaac said as he turned and walked away.

G had a bad feeling as he pulled out one of his sabres. The gem in the blade had turned a dull black, usually a bad sign. Sheathing it he sighed “Boys, go get ready. We’ve got some killing to do. And bring meds too.”

Elsewhere Shorts slid his papers across the desk and waited. Once they’d finished inspecting the papers the men on the other side of the glass told him to go ahead. Walking into the armoury Shorts sat down and took the first rifle.  The Shattered Helm had never interested him but he liked weaponry.

So here he was cleaning and fixing fire arms for the Shattered Helm thanks to a friend of his. Of course from his recollection they knew how to take care of their own weapons but the surplus needed maintenance as well. So he sat there and worked while he hummed to himself.

Maybe he could get Ell some new clothes with the IOUs he got today. Especially after G got him the share of the IOUs for the parts they’d gotten. But that’d take till tomorrow…

Sighing Shorts wondered what he’d do for food today. The only spot he could afford a meal was that community center but he hated taking charity. Maybe he could go scrounge some food again. But then Ell would want to tag along and he’d be going somewhere dangerous, maybe more dangerous than when they’d headed out with Blue.

Meanwhile Foster had found himself sitting alone looking through his journal. He didn’t have a soul, never did as far as he could tell. But why? He’d never found another with his problem and now he’d run into someone that shouldn’t have had one in the first place.

Tapping the side of his head with a pen Foster contemplated trying another experiment. The only issue was finding someone that wouldn’t be missed by anyone if they disappeared. So that would have to wait for now.

Scribbling a note down in his journal Foster decided the first thing he’d do would be to adjust an old formula. Maybe if he simply adjusted some of the chemical compounds in it he’d actually see results…

An hour had passed before Foster looked up from his notes. Something felt..off as he looked around. It felt as though someone was watching him. But not seeing anyone eyeing him Foster shrugged and decided to go find more parts for his lab.