Postapocalyptia Parables: Project Green Sea

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Dante couldn't help but notice that, after she'd bought the peaches, the customer had decided to stick around. When she turned about to look at him, he gave her eye contact and a small, polite smile. "You need your rifle fixed?"

Dante pushed off the bookcase he was leaning against and stepped back to reveal the 308. caliber, bolt-action rifle. He looked at it pointedly as the woman - who'd introduced herself as Hannah - dropped her satchel on Katie's counter and walked over. "It's seen better days, that's for sure."

She dropped into a seat at the table near him, folding her arms and looking in his eyes with a twinkle in hers that spoke of confidence. A gunsmith, he thought triumphantly. My luck is in town. "I can fix it. For a price, of course."

Dante nodded, sending a smile back her way before he grabbed the rifle and stepped forward to the table, lying the weapon down in front of her. It looked beat up to hell, and as soon as she got to taking it apart, she would discover that it was in even worse condition than it actually looked. "I can pay," he started, putting both hands flat on the table. "I have plenty of money. What I don't have is time."

He was operating under the assumption that Katie wouldn't mind loaning out Sam's workstation for a couple of hours. Of course she won't, he thought as he gazed into the eyes of Hannah, the corner of his mouth threatening to turn into a half-grin, had he not put the Mad Man, Mr Farson, back into the forefront of his mind. He suddenly thought of a better idea, although it was a long shot. He let her look at the gun before saying, "Listen, I can pay you to carry out the work here. That is, if my friend, Katie here, would have us..."

Katie grinned. "Of course."

"Thanks," he replied, then turned his attention back to Hannah. "...or, for a better price, I could buy whatever materials you require, and you could accompany me north as far as you're willing to go, and act as my gunsmith." He stood up straight again, massaging his wrists absently. "Either way... name your price."

Katie, supportive as always; "And if you're worried about raiders, radscorpians and molerats, I wouldn't be. This, right here, is Dante Valeron; The Lone Wanderer..." Dante's chin raised slightly. It had been a long time since he last got embarrassed by praise. His White Knight of the Wastes persona had become who he was. "...You won't find yourself in safer company." Katie quirked a brow and put her hands on her hips. "That is, unless you're going into No Man's Land, there ain't no such thing as safe in that hell-hole... but even then, there's no one I'd rather have at my side."

Her grin was hilarious. Dante really had missed it so much. He couldn't help but grin himself as he shook his head. "Once the rifle is repaired to the full extent of your skill, you can choose to leave at any point you want," he assured her. As much as having a gunsmith on hand would be extremely useful in the middle of No Man's Land, where one could happen across the rarest of junk and broken weaponry, he would not trick or coerce her into stepping into such an awful place.

[Acacia Sage]

Hannah smiled and took the weapon. It was heavy in her hands and a lot worse looking up close than it had been from farther away. It was scratched up and bent a little. She could tell by the feel of it that the barrel was clogged, the handle was bent and the trigger was stuck. But, she supposed, that it could still work. It obviously had been and before this...whatever it was...had happened to it, it had been a pretty piece of machinery. She could appreciate art. It was older but beneath the tarnish and dents, it looked new. She twisted it around in her hands.

She opened her mouth to tell him that she wasn't really a gunsmith, just someone who knew what they were doing, but he continued on, telling her about prices and then he offered her, well...he offered her what sounded like a job. Again, she opened her mouth to speak, was, of course, cut off. This time it was the girl, Katie. She spoke of Dante Valeron, who Hannah had, of course, heard of but never seen. That was how it went with him. Or so everyone said. She had never been one to trust the reliability of gossip.

He looked nervous and then embarrassed and then it vanished and was replaced with a grin. "...you can choose to leave at any point you want..." he was saying when Hannah finally tore her eyes away from the girl in the corner. She'd been staring at her, contemplating her words, evaluating her for signs of deception.

"I'm sorry?" She said, looking at the man. Then, she shook her head and stood, setting the gun back on the table. "I can have your gun done in an hour," she said, making mental plans on how to best use the time. She knew he wanted the gun fast. And, she hoped, the faster she worked, the more money she would get. "But that's all. I won't be leaving with you," she continued, staring at him funny.

She didn't know where that idea had come from. It was silly. She didn't even know this person. And then there was her brother...

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"I can have your gun done in an hour," Hannah told him. "But that's all. I won't be leaving with you," she continued, staring at him funny.

Dante conceded with a tilt of the head. It had been a long shot, but one worth taking. Even so, if it was only going to take an hour to fix up, then he wouldn't be losing as much time as he first anticipated. "That fine," he replied. "Great, even," he added with a couple of decisive nods as he thought about how many miles that the mad man might be ahead. "I'll pay you after I've given it a whirl."

He suspected Katie would let him shoot at an empty can or two, outside the shop, just to check the tightness of the bolt action, it's durability and the accuracy of the shot. He turned his attention to his friend, unable to help but notice the funny looks Hannah was giving him. He'd mistaken her swagger for that of a wasteland roamer; an adventurer, but he guessed now that she was a house-cat and he could understand how his offer might have seemed a little forward. But there was no point in dwelling on such things. There were more important matters in the balance.

"Katie," he started, rubbing the tiredness out of one eye with the palm of his hand. "Could you show Hannah to Sam's workstation. I need her to get started, right away."

Katie was grinning her usual grin. "It's right there, Dante," she said, pointing to the corner of the room. Dante barely had to turn his head, and he mentally sighed at his stupidity. Katie turned to Hannah. "There's a tool box under the bench, anything else you might need, I can get for you from the back."

***

Ten minutes later, Katie was serving a customer and saying, "See you, now," after doing business. Hannah was working at the bench and Dante was sat on the floor, back against the wall, his chin on his chest as he slept. The man had looked pretty tired, Katie thought, when he'd first arrived, but by now, she wondering the last time he'd slept at all.

"How you getting along there, pad'ner?" Katie asked Hannah conversationally. "I just love mechanics. It's amazing what the world before The Great War came up with. I've had that bike, there, for ten years but it won't work. I'm trying to get it to run off bio-fuel, but truthfully, I just like to play with it's parts and learn more about internal combustion." She leaned on the counter with her forearms. "How long have you been tinkering with technology? Oh... just tell me to shut my mouth if I'm distracting you. I could talk the sun down."

[Acacia Sage]

Hannah followed Katie's finger across the shop. Nestled in a little corner was a bench and table. It was old looking and covered in dust, but she could also tell that it was used often and cared for greatly. It was hard these days to find respectable tables to work with guns. Most didn't have all the correct supplies. It wasn't hard to come by much, but certain things just weren't that common. Hannah had made due with the one in her little hut by taking things off of travelers or foraging the things that they had left behind. Sometimes, when she didn't need them, she would give them to Jax to take them out to sell for currency. Either money or caps. As long as it put something in her pocket.

She went over to the station, the gun in one hand, trailing her finger along the cool metal/ wood mixture of the bench. The was what a real gunsmith worked with. She was envious. It was hard not to drool, but she forced herself into composure because that wasn't very professional. This was the first actual job she'd had in months. Jax would be so happy when she came home with money from an actual job. She smiled slightly at how she imagined he would beam at her.

Ja had always been more honest that she was. It wasn't that she was dishonest, just she understood the value of currency. It wasn't that Jax didn't. But, well, he didn't as much as she did.

She took a seat and got to work. She wasn't sure how long she'd been pouring over the bench and gun. She had taken apart the barrel when she heard Katie bid someone goodbye and then a tiny bell over the door jangled. She felt movement and saw that the girl had turned and faced her. She was leaning against the counter. "Mechanics are great," Hannah said with a slightly laugh. She reached across the bench and grabbed a cloth that was resting on the other side. "But I think that it isn't about mechanics."

She shrugged, looking over at the other girl quickly and then back at the table. "I mean, they're cool and everything. But mechanics are just that; mechanics. It's a person that makes them work, gives them a home and a life and makes them useful." Her cheeks went kind of red and she looked anywhere but the other girl. "Just my thoughts."

There was another chime above the door. She looked up. A couple had come in, a young child between them. The little boy was glancing around in wonder and the parents looked a little nervous. "Maye you should get that," she told Katie, gesturing towards the door.

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When Hannah started to reply, Katie was was as intrigued as she was happy, but the more this woman spoke, the more excited Katie began to get. "I mean, they're cool and everything. But mechanics are just that; mechanics. It's a person that makes them work, gives them a home and a life and makes them useful."

She loved a good discussion when it came to tech, and although Hannah was taking it down a more philosophical route, which certainly wasn't Katie's strong-point, the shopkeeper was just happy that Hannah was willing enough to put her own thoughts out in the open. She nodded along as Hannah spoke, smiling encouragingly at the woman, who had turned a little red. She half-considered offering the woman a more permanent job around the shop. It wasn't that Sam, her current weapon-smith, didn't offer her good conversation, but there was nothing like passing the time of day with good-looking gal. And old man Sam was about as far as a person could get from being a 'good-looking gal.'

"Just my thoughts."

"Ah, but mechanics don't work because a person makes them work. Mechanics are the rules of the world. Mechanics make people work," Katie offered back in debate. The doorbell jingled. Hannah informed her that the customers were waiting but Katie didn't need telling. Running a shop came second-nature to Katie Wensdale. "Imagine trying to live in this world without the basic tech; a sharp stone to cut things- Hi there, folks, what can I do ya for? Hey, there, little fella," she added for the child's benefit.

Katie noticed how nervous the man and woman looked and wondered what had gotten them in such a state..........

[Acacia Sage]

"People would work without mechanics," Hannah said heatedly but not unkindly. It wasn't very often that she got to have actual intellectual talks with someone who understood what they were talking about. Jax was just...he was more brawn then brains and she didn't get out to see very many people. She spent most of her time in her little hut/house and working on her brother's weapons for when he would need them. Occasionally she came to New Manchester, but not as often as she would have liked to be able to keep herself satisfied.

She glanced up as Katie walked over to the group of three that had just come in. She took inventory. Two parents, a man and a woman, both appearing older than they probably were; and a child, a boy, with dirty cheeks but bright eyes. She forced a smile at them as she saw the woman looking her way. The mother shifted her gaze quickly, never letting it linger on any one thing for too long. Hannah frowned.

There were very few times when Hannah got feelings. It wasn't that she was extra logical. It was just that she wasn't usually put off. It took a lot to make her uncomfortable and so she didn't often get that twisting in her stomach that let her know something just wasn't right. But there it was. She turned her gaze back to the gun in her hands, twisting it around to get a better look inside the chamber. She was just being paranoid. She was sure of that. It was just a family. And she had been to New Manchester plenty of times before. Nothing bad had ever happened. This place was on lock-down and very few people went against the guards.

That was why the sudden bang and the sharp sting of something hot and hard hitting her arm caught Hannah off guard. She looked down, almost in a daze, to see blood welling out of a wound on her upper arm. A frown graced her featured and she just stared for a second, not sure what to think. The next time the noise was made, she clearly identified for what it was. A gunshot. Her hand went to her arm and she leaped to her feet, gaze traveling around the room.

It was the family in front of them. The two adults were holding guns, just hand guns, nothing serious, and looking very nervous. Neither looked much like they knew what they were doing. It was a strange sight. The boy had gone and was hiding behind the woman's legs, shaking his head and mumbling something that Hannah couldn't make out.

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At the sound of the gunshot, which echoed loudly in the shop, Dante's grey-blue eyes snapped open and flicked toward the source of the commotion. His first instinct was to spring into action, but his quick reactions and nerves of steel managed to keep him from panicking and he stayed put, almost statue-like. On assessment of the situation, he realised that this was robbery. The man and the woman with the guns didn't look like raiders, more like desperate wastelanders, and the child with them looked scared as hell. None of them had noticed the wasteland hero sat on the floor, across the room. The woman fired a second gunshot - a warning shot at the ceiling.

"Don't move!" the man shouted. Movement in his peripheral vision made Dante notice Hannah at the work bench. He turned his head slightly to get a better look at her. She'd been shot! "Back up!" the man told Hannah. "Against the wall, now!"

Katie was stood behind the counter, both hands in the air. She was as cool as ice. "You won't get away with this, you know," she told them. "There are 20 guards patrolling New Manchester and someone would have heard those shots."

"Shut up!" the woman shouted, her voice a little shakey. "Just empty the cash register!" She threw a bag on the counter for Katie to fill up with gold and bottle caps."

The man walked toward Hannah with his gun pointed at her, grabbed the broken rifle off the work bench and backed away. His path had taken him close to Dante, who was as still as a snake in the grass.

Katie shook her head with exasperation, but followed her orders and calmly started emptying the cash register. "I'm sorry that you've become so desperate that you've had to resort to this. But the second you walk out of there, you'll probably be gunned down. If you stop this, now, you'll be kicked out of the town, but at least no one else will get hurt."

"I said shut up!" the woman shouted, affected deeply by Katie's words but trying not to be.

"I only want to spare your child the pain and suffering," Katie told her.

"I will kill you, bitch! Say one more word and you're dead!"

The man's attention left Hannah and went to his partner-in-crime and Katie. "Do what she says, woman, or- agh!" Dante had risen like an avenging angel, on his feet in a flash and gripping the gun-arm of the man, before twisting it until it hurt enough for the man to drop his weapon. "Arrgh!"

All attention went to him, including the woman's and the snub-nose she was carrying. But Dante had already wrapped his arm around the man's neck and drew his own 9mm pistol to point back at her. The man dropped the rifle so he could attempt to loosen Dante's vice-like grip on his neck. When the woman realised her man was being used as a human shield, she began struggling to keep her aim steady. "Where the hell did you come from!?"

Time seemed to freeze as the stand-off ensued, seeming like it took forever even though it was only a few seconds long. Dante's face half-covered by the human shield's head, one blue-grey eye stared coldly at the woman.

"Daddy!" the young lad cried. Dante's eye flicked to the lad, seeing no danger in him, before coming back to watch the woman, who clearly didn't know what to do. Her hesitance and fear was the only reason Dante hadn't killed her yet..............