As a worker who constantly went into peoples’ houses and entered their most private spaces, I realized just how much their junk said about their character.
Take, for example, the tent surrounded by license plates, hubcaps, and various tools and workbenches. Without even asking, I could tell that was the mechanic’s tent.
Then there was one with a million different literal trinkets, souvenirs you’d find if you went to any big city. Keychains, hat pins, and tacky “I heart CHI” and “I heart MI” shirts were set up on sticks like a makeshift scarecrow.
That was definitely the “fun one” of the camp.
“So, this is where you guys live?” I asked the group as we walked. “I’m not going to lie, I didn’t expect there to be actual houses.”
“Those are mostly for storage and shelter,” Natalie explained. “We only go inside if there’s a severe storm.”
“But why?” I couldn’t quite wrap my head around it. “There’s more than enough houses for you guys to stay in, especially if you bunkered up together.”
“I dunno what they got ya doing out there in the Tundra, Hunter,” William chuckled, “but we Scavengers are all about community and brotherhood. We find it way more excitin’ to rough it out in the elements, with a good ‘ol campfire and a cot that’s so uncomfortable you don’t wanna sleep on it for more than a few hours.”
“It is fun,” Harrison admitted, “but it’s also just in case we’d ever have to pack up and leave unexpectedly. It’s a lot easier to sound the alarm and round up everyone when we’re all in a single space than it would be to run along the roads for miles.”
“Have you ever had to do that?” I gasped. “Pack up and leave in a hurry?”
“Not since I was fourteen years old,” Natalie admitted. “Back then, we had an encampment on the other side of the lake, along the shores of the Fallen Land… The Rubberfaces didn’t like that, especially once they started getting more intelligent.”
“And you’re not worried about that happening here?” I tilted my head curiously.
“Not exactly.” The blonde woman shrugged. “We have sentries posted all along the perimeter of our encampment, and we are far away from any areas of major radiation. There might be a few wandering Rubberfaces every now and again, but nothing we haven’t been able to handle.”
“You two Ankle Biters have fun talkin’ to Marcus,” William suddenly announced as he stopped his momentum. “I think I’m gonna go off and get me some-a that vodka I’ve been stashin’ under my cot.”
“Wait,” I laughed, “before you go, I have something I’ve been dying to ask you… If you were a little kid when Doomsday happened, and you grew up mostly around the Scavengers… How did you get an Australian accent?”
“What the fuck’s an Australian accent, mate?” William retorted with a raised eyebrow.
“You know what?” I threw up my hands in defeat. “Never mind. Enjoy your vodka.”
“Oh, I will,” the man with the long hair cackled. “Can I plan on seein’ ya around the fire later?”
“I don’t know… ” I trailed off.
“Sure I can!” He smiled and smacked me on the back. “I’ve got a game of knucklebones with your name on it.”
With that, the punk-rock Australian man turned and scurried off to his tent.
Harrison just shook his head and smiled.
“I’ll see you two later,” he chuckled. “I’m gonna go take a nap. We’ve got a long night ahead of us.”
With that, Harrison turned around and then disappeared into the fray.
“They’re taking Johnny’s death a lot better than I’d expect,” I observed. “Why are they planning a party? Isn’t there going to be a funeral or remembrance or something like that?”
“That’s not the Scavenger way.” Natalie just shrugged. “We like to remember the happy times we had with the deceased, rather than mourn their demise. When a Scavenger dies, we celebrate their life rather than grieve their passing.”
Huh. Pretty progressive for a band of post-apocalyptic pirates.
Natalie and I continued to walk down the beach until we finally came to one of the large huts made out of sticks and foliage. It stood about eight feet tall, with a roof that came up to a point at its very top. The hut was much larger than any of the other dwellings around it, probably large enough to fit one of the dune buggies fully inside of it.
“Your big boss’ quarters?” I asked, and Natalie nodded firmly.
“Just let me do the talking,” she explained. “I’m sure he’ll like you, but I don’t want you to give off the wrong impression. He’s very, very cautious about who he lets into the Scavengers.”
I gave her a nod to confirm, and then I followed her inside of the hut.
Much like so many of the tents outside, the walls of this place were packed to the brim with different trinkets scoured from abandoned cities. Retro record covers littered one wall, while a slew of marble statues lined the shelves of another. Most peculiar to me was a section full of pieces of art, including a few famous works such as American Gothic, Nighthawks, and Van Gogh’s The Bedroom.
Well, I guess the Art Institute didn’t need them anymore, anyways.
At the far wall of the hut sat a small desk with a swiveling chair, with a man hunched over scribbling on a piece of paper like mad.
“Marcus?” Natalie cleared her throat, and the man stopped writing instantly.
He spun around in his chair, grinned at the blonde woman, and then stood to his feet.
Marcus was a tall dude, definitely over six feet. His frame was that of a scarecrow, lanky and slender, and he walked like he was a bird trying to navigate the ground for the first time.
On his torso he wore a black denim vest with dozens of silver studs over the top of a black t-shirt that had the etchings of golden wings on it. His hands and arms were covered with studded bracelets and rings, and on his lower half he wore baggy black pants. Marcus’ hair was a dark brown long-top that had been slicked back as far as it could possibly go, and he had some rough stubble all over his face.
“Good to see you again, Natalie,” he announced as he walked forward with his arms open wide. “I trust your excursion to the Fallen Lands went well?”
The Scavenger leader embraced the blonde woman for a moment, and then she pulled back.
“It… Not exactly.” Natalie frowned and looked down at the ground. “I’m afraid Johnny didn’t make it.”
Marcus’ eyes went blank as he took a step back. Then he locked his hands behind his back, turned around, and began to pace.
“That’s unfortunate,” he sighed. “He was a good Scavenger, and an even better man. Did you at least gain anything valuable from your trip?”
“Well, we did pick up a potential new member,” she explained as she pointed to me.
Marcus halted his gait, twirled around dramatically, and then slowly approached me with narrowed eyes.
“This man?” he asked. “What does he bring to the table that the rest of our brethren don’t?”
“He’s from the Tundra region,” Natalie noted. “And he’s a pretty good gunner. I saw that first hand.”
“The Tundra?” Marcus tilted his head and pursed his lips. “What is somebody from the Tundra doing all the way down in the Fallen Lands?”
“I was sick of my people’s ways,” I lied through my teeth. “I wanted to come down here to find a new way of life.”
Marcus walked around me in a circle, and he stared me down the entire time he did so. His lips were contorted into a frown, and I couldn’t really get a read on him. Finally, he stopped, looked me square in the eyes, and burst out laughing.