4th of Ash, Year 4621
Some time had passed, and so arrived the coming of night. The sky darkened and the desert cooled, the dunes still beneath the subtle glare of moonlight. He, Alice and Carlos were sent ahead on their Chariots to scout for Iron Moon presence. Normally, it wasn't incredibly difficult to tell if they were nearby -- one could easily hear them in the distance, known for their shrill screams and the sound of their wheels displacing sand. Lately, though, they had taken to hiding, scouting and preparing their own ambushes. A new technology from the south, binoculars, had given them an advantage in that regard.
He couldn't say he minded those evening rides on the back of his Chariot, the wind running through his hair and past his cheeks, the air a perfect medium of temperature. He always preferred the sun when it was ready to lay its head for the night, not nearly so scathing or vibrant. As much as he enjoyed the star over the vast desert, it could be merciless at times. The Badlands knew no reasonable middle-ground. It was hot in the day, and cool at night. Only when the sun and moon met in the sky could he ever claim the breeze to be pleasant.
"Wait," Alice called out, lifting a fist to signal the two men behind her to stop. Each came to a pause, Jack settling his foot onto the sand as his Chariot slightly leaned with him.
"What's up?" he asked.
"I heard something. Felt, more like. Wurm, maybe. Anyone else?"
Carlos blinked, shaking his head slowly. "Ah, not me. Jack?"
"No... but I'll trust you. You want us to follow you somewhere, right?"
Alice immediately squinted, holding back a scowl as Carlos tilted his head slightly, looking back-and-forth between the two. "Yeah," the woman nodded, "I do. Come along."
He knew it. The Raider smirked, nodding his head once. "Alright, Alice. Lead the way..."
As she guided them, Carlos looked to him with that same, uncertain confusion, gesturing as if he wanted an explanation as to what was going on; the sudden source of tension. The air felt thicker all of the sudden; Carlos could feel it, Alice thrived on it, and Jack... he felt it most of all. The feeling of looming over a great precipice, when something great was about to come. When one was so close to falling over the edge of that cliff. Soon enough, all of this posturing between him and that 'gal' would be over, and there would be one victor. Either which way things went.
"So, how long have you been sellin' us out to the Moons?" he asked.
Carlos' brows rose, as he blurted, "What? Jack, you--"
"No, he's right, Carlos," Alice said, grunting. "To answer your question, Cordrero, about three months. Ever since Emmanuel fucked up that shipment of Wurmblood, back near Traphole. I decided... fuck it. I'm on my way out; might as well betray this piece-of-shit gang and get myself in good with the Moons. Been working like a charm."
"Uh-huh," he mused, smiling faintly. "And what's the purpose of all this? We about to get ambushed by them?"
"Yep," she said. "Should be soon enough. I did feel a tremor, wasn't lying about that. That was their signal."
"Guess I'm going to have to break your fucking neck before then, huh, Alice?"
"Guess you are."
