“Wow, nice place you’ve got here… What’d you spend on it, ten bottlecaps?” The girl asked from her place in the dirt, glancing around to the few tents and poorly thrown-together campsite. A rope held her wrists together against a post and it was already starting to cause a friction burn.
“Shut up, meat,” One of the men spat with a sneer. He had greasy black hair jutting out in all directions and Sienna just had to wonder if he thought he looked handsome or intimidating… He achieved neither.
“You still haven’t told us where we’re even going… What’re you gonna do? Stand there and get pissed at me ‘cause your buddies wanted you guarding us instead of sitting around the fire over there? I’m freezing your balls off out here. Not good stock if we’re dead, are we?” She asked venomously, “We need at least something small – a night in the Wastes’ll kill the fattest pig on the farm if he doesn’t have a blanket,” She explained lackadaisically.
“I said shut up, whore,” The rookie slaver growled, smacking her directly across the face. He turned on all of the others, among them were two men and a redhead who they had found lost in the Wastes just earlier that day, speaking with more entitlement than he had earned, “All you need to know is that you’re property now. All that matters, anyway.”
Sienna stared at the ground to her side for a moment, licking her teeth to ensure she wasn’t bleeding… Nope, she was fine. “And I say think with your brain, and not your dick, asshole.”
The man made no reply, just adjusting his lever-action rifle – the one he took from the newly captured girl. Sienna hadn’t caught her name when she was being added to their ranks, but she didn’t seem to know much about out here, in the Dust Basin. Must’ve spent her whole life in Sydney and this was her first time out. It was her lucky day to be unlucky, the wastelander mused silently. Each of the four “slaves” were tied the same way that Sienna was, to a post driven into the ground. The knots were tight, but the slavers relied on their own competence and an armed guard to keep them in check, as sacrificing the health of your wrist-flesh and fiddling with the rope could loosen it enough to pull it off of the short pole. That was exactly what she was doing every time the guy turned around. Trying to untie it was futile thanks to the angle her hands were at – she didn’t even know what kind of knot it was – but getting it off of the post was still possible.
The shouts of excitement could be heard from behind them as the slavers shared in the revelry of just a few drinks and a bonfire. The guard was carrying Sienna’s holstered pistol and her machete too. That bastard. She had to be thankful, though, that she wouldn’t have to even try fighting all of them to get her equipment back.
She coughed. At first, it seemed innocent enough… then the girl doubled over to her side and began to cough phlegm onto the ground. “Fuck…” She muttered, spitting a couple of times, slumping down against her post and looking to the guard, “It’s so dry out here… The dust’s stuck in my throat…” Her expression had shifted to one of a convincingly non-defiant prisoner, the softness of her green eyes playing quite well to her advantage as she stared at the irritated-yet-interested guard.
“What the fuck do you expect me to do about it?” Her lips moved, but the sound was so faint that even the prisoners beside her couldn’t hear her. The guard stopped in front of her, “Speak up!” Again, they moved, but the sound was caught in the wind and carried away before he could catch it. He put the rifle on his back, rolled his eyes and crouched down, “Wha-” He hadn’t even finished when a boot caught him in the square of his chin and Sienna made one final tug to pull the rope over the post, standing with it.
Her arms were still stuck behind her back, but the other buffoons were still focused on their little pow-wow. The two guys on the posts looked at each other, feeling rather stupid for not having tried to just pull the rope up with themselves. The guard was pulling himself up onto his hands and about to shout when Sienna took a forceful step into the center of his back, pinning diaphragm under his own weight and leaving him speechless as he gasped after air. She had to lower herself and awkwardly pull her machete out of its sheath on his back before driving it into the ground behind her, just beside the slaver. Pulling her foot off of his back, she took a seat on him and, with little finesse, reached back to cut the rope around her hands on the blade of her machete. An audible sigh of relief escaped her as they fell away and she yanked the weapon from the dirt. The guy was gathering enough energy to rise and push her off, just in time to get a boot to the side of his head. The blow knocked him over onto his back and unconscious, a small trickle of blood running down his skull. Sienna spit into the dirt next to his face.
“Just scuffed him with my boot – he’s not dead… I don’t think.” She had to keep her voice low as she crouched down and cut each of the other prisoners free – from the redheaded girl to the man on the far end. Next, she retried her pistol and strapped it to her thigh, nodding to the other girl, “You might wanna take your rifle before somebody else does – you’ll be lucky if you find many rounds on him though.”
“Hey, thanks for he-“ One of the guys started before finding the girl’s hand over his mouth.
“Sh. Get the fuck outta here – if you’re gonna come back to the Wastes, do it with more friends, you jackass. You’re lucky there’re only four of ‘em and not twelve. Slave trade’s on the rise. Now get home,” She ordered, pointing east – toward the Bazaar. “It’s a few miles’ trek to the first gate, but I’m sure you can find your way there. Not like you have any weapons, you’re no good out here anyway.”
The two guys looked at her like ‘what about you two?’ But the daggers in her eyes told them to keep their traps shut. Next, Sienna strapped her machete to her back again, looking to the other girl, “You look like you could use some help finding the way back,” She spoke as quietly as she could. “I know a place we can stay not too far away, c’mon. These guys’ll be following the other two in the morning – we’re going a different direction, it’ll throw ‘em off-scent,” She explained, motioning for a lateral move, rather than heading back toward ‘The Bazaar.’ Really, she didn’t want to keep talking, not when those guys were still pretty close by. The air was starting to bite coldly and finding shelter had to be priority number one. She rubbed her wrists softly, shit... that's gonna itch like fucking nuts.
“Shut up, meat,” One of the men spat with a sneer. He had greasy black hair jutting out in all directions and Sienna just had to wonder if he thought he looked handsome or intimidating… He achieved neither.
“You still haven’t told us where we’re even going… What’re you gonna do? Stand there and get pissed at me ‘cause your buddies wanted you guarding us instead of sitting around the fire over there? I’m freezing your balls off out here. Not good stock if we’re dead, are we?” She asked venomously, “We need at least something small – a night in the Wastes’ll kill the fattest pig on the farm if he doesn’t have a blanket,” She explained lackadaisically.
“I said shut up, whore,” The rookie slaver growled, smacking her directly across the face. He turned on all of the others, among them were two men and a redhead who they had found lost in the Wastes just earlier that day, speaking with more entitlement than he had earned, “All you need to know is that you’re property now. All that matters, anyway.”
Sienna stared at the ground to her side for a moment, licking her teeth to ensure she wasn’t bleeding… Nope, she was fine. “And I say think with your brain, and not your dick, asshole.”
The man made no reply, just adjusting his lever-action rifle – the one he took from the newly captured girl. Sienna hadn’t caught her name when she was being added to their ranks, but she didn’t seem to know much about out here, in the Dust Basin. Must’ve spent her whole life in Sydney and this was her first time out. It was her lucky day to be unlucky, the wastelander mused silently. Each of the four “slaves” were tied the same way that Sienna was, to a post driven into the ground. The knots were tight, but the slavers relied on their own competence and an armed guard to keep them in check, as sacrificing the health of your wrist-flesh and fiddling with the rope could loosen it enough to pull it off of the short pole. That was exactly what she was doing every time the guy turned around. Trying to untie it was futile thanks to the angle her hands were at – she didn’t even know what kind of knot it was – but getting it off of the post was still possible.
The shouts of excitement could be heard from behind them as the slavers shared in the revelry of just a few drinks and a bonfire. The guard was carrying Sienna’s holstered pistol and her machete too. That bastard. She had to be thankful, though, that she wouldn’t have to even try fighting all of them to get her equipment back.
She coughed. At first, it seemed innocent enough… then the girl doubled over to her side and began to cough phlegm onto the ground. “Fuck…” She muttered, spitting a couple of times, slumping down against her post and looking to the guard, “It’s so dry out here… The dust’s stuck in my throat…” Her expression had shifted to one of a convincingly non-defiant prisoner, the softness of her green eyes playing quite well to her advantage as she stared at the irritated-yet-interested guard.
“What the fuck do you expect me to do about it?” Her lips moved, but the sound was so faint that even the prisoners beside her couldn’t hear her. The guard stopped in front of her, “Speak up!” Again, they moved, but the sound was caught in the wind and carried away before he could catch it. He put the rifle on his back, rolled his eyes and crouched down, “Wha-” He hadn’t even finished when a boot caught him in the square of his chin and Sienna made one final tug to pull the rope over the post, standing with it.
Her arms were still stuck behind her back, but the other buffoons were still focused on their little pow-wow. The two guys on the posts looked at each other, feeling rather stupid for not having tried to just pull the rope up with themselves. The guard was pulling himself up onto his hands and about to shout when Sienna took a forceful step into the center of his back, pinning diaphragm under his own weight and leaving him speechless as he gasped after air. She had to lower herself and awkwardly pull her machete out of its sheath on his back before driving it into the ground behind her, just beside the slaver. Pulling her foot off of his back, she took a seat on him and, with little finesse, reached back to cut the rope around her hands on the blade of her machete. An audible sigh of relief escaped her as they fell away and she yanked the weapon from the dirt. The guy was gathering enough energy to rise and push her off, just in time to get a boot to the side of his head. The blow knocked him over onto his back and unconscious, a small trickle of blood running down his skull. Sienna spit into the dirt next to his face.
“Just scuffed him with my boot – he’s not dead… I don’t think.” She had to keep her voice low as she crouched down and cut each of the other prisoners free – from the redheaded girl to the man on the far end. Next, she retried her pistol and strapped it to her thigh, nodding to the other girl, “You might wanna take your rifle before somebody else does – you’ll be lucky if you find many rounds on him though.”
“Hey, thanks for he-“ One of the guys started before finding the girl’s hand over his mouth.
“Sh. Get the fuck outta here – if you’re gonna come back to the Wastes, do it with more friends, you jackass. You’re lucky there’re only four of ‘em and not twelve. Slave trade’s on the rise. Now get home,” She ordered, pointing east – toward the Bazaar. “It’s a few miles’ trek to the first gate, but I’m sure you can find your way there. Not like you have any weapons, you’re no good out here anyway.”
The two guys looked at her like ‘what about you two?’ But the daggers in her eyes told them to keep their traps shut. Next, Sienna strapped her machete to her back again, looking to the other girl, “You look like you could use some help finding the way back,” She spoke as quietly as she could. “I know a place we can stay not too far away, c’mon. These guys’ll be following the other two in the morning – we’re going a different direction, it’ll throw ‘em off-scent,” She explained, motioning for a lateral move, rather than heading back toward ‘The Bazaar.’ Really, she didn’t want to keep talking, not when those guys were still pretty close by. The air was starting to bite coldly and finding shelter had to be priority number one. She rubbed her wrists softly, shit... that's gonna itch like fucking nuts.