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The Road

The Lacertan diplomatic mission has withdrawn from Regulus Prime. It is expected that a formal declaration of war will commence in a matter of days.

And we're calling for it. Begging for it! Of all people, us humans falling in line behind those furred bastards!

But then, who can blame them? When the choices are between two evils, most will pick the familiar. But what if there were no evils to choose from?

-Intercepted call between suspected Earth rebels.

Rain had begun to pitter-patter against the tarp roof of the Hauler and the air grew chill. Some people think they can sense rain coming by their arthritic joints growing stiff and sore, but I knew when my tongue grew numb that it was going to get colder. I never had that happen before, but when you get a sign like that, you just know.

My right hand wasn't hurting anymore either. If it was a worse wound, I'd be concerned about this change, but it was just a bruise and so I was fine.

The Hauler rumbled as it passed over a rock and my stomach began to revolt. Leaning out the window, I let my dinner escape into the darkness. A hand slammed on the wheel, taking control of it. I snapped my head to my passenger, whose scales blended in with the night sky and the tan doors of the Hauler. Were it not for his bright, green eyes and the subtle aura of light around his body, he would be completely invisible.

“You're drunk," he said, his voice echoing as if he were at the bottom of a great canyon.

“Haven't had a drop," I replied, swishing his transparent hand from the wheel and regaining control. “Not a drop."

“You almost crashed into that cliff wall," he growled, his white fangs suddenly revealing themselves in the air. All I could think of was the Cheshire Cat, but my companion was a Lacertan, not a Regulian; not that a Regulian smiling would have been any less terrifying.

“We're almost there," I muttered, shifting gears as we began to ascend towards my hideout. “We're almost there."

“Let me dr..."

“No! We're almost there," I said, buckling my seat belt to prevent myself from floating into the sky. “Just because Sirth sent you to keep an eye on me and just because you're invisible, you think you can..."

“What?"

“We're here!"

I slammed on the brakes, bringing the Hauler to a screeching halt as soon as I saw the canvas flap covering up the entrance to my hideout.

“Alright, Yaleens inside. She's pretty, but keep it in your pants. She doesn't like invisible people."

My companion's aura grew bright and I recoiled as an ache grew in my brain. I punched the horn three times, but got nothing in return except the thud of my hand against the wheel. I didn't even realize that I punched it with my injured hand.

“Yaleen! We're going to Rust!"

The flap flew open with an explosive burst of air and Yaleen emerged, an illuminated angel in the midst of the haze of the night. Her aura was even stronger than the passenger's. She put her hands on her hips.

“Who's the blue Lacertan?"

“He's not blue, he's an invisible prick."

“My scales are blue," the passenger said.

That was it, I had just about enough. I turned to face him, freezing immediately. Rippling behind the transparent Lizard's skin was a large, white figure with a broad muzzle. An intruder!

Ripping my pistol out of the holster, I burst out of the Hauler, ducking behind the body, “Intruder!"

“Where!?" the passenger screamed. I could see his aura jump out of the truck towards and through the figure, who became clearer every second that passed. He didn't move. All he did was stare at me with his sad, brown eyes.

Those eyes. So familiar. So warm.

I hesitated when I saw the intruder was an Equuleian and then froze when I saw the length of braided hair.

“Doppler!"

“What!?"

“I'm sorry, Neilan!" I screamed, pointing the pistol at his Doppler. The sights quaked and I hesitated to fire, “I'm sorry!"

“I'm sorry!"

“I'm sorry!"

The gun popped. My aim was true, but he didn't fall and kept staring at me. I had to stop him before he killed us all. I fired again, and again, and again, and again. He didn't fall.

“You're not Neilan!"

A heavy weight slammed against me, pushing me to the ground. I looked up but saw nothing but a yellow aura outlining a hulking Lacertan.

“What the hell is wrong with him?" Yaleen yelled off in the distance.

“Quiet," the outline whispered. “Pawel, have you taken any drugs?"

“He's going to kill us! He's a Doppler! Get off me!"

“Reptile, what did you do to him? Did you make him lick you?" Yaleen asked snidely.

“No."

“I licked Sirth!" I blurted out. “But there's a Doppler and..."

“Dammit, Pawel!" Yaleen snapped. “He's hallucinating. Knock him out!"

I felt the hot air of the invisible passenger's breath brush across my face before I could tell he was right by my throat. Something sharp, but not painful, entered my throat and I began to calm. Suddenly, all thoughts of the Doppler began to fade from my thoughts and were replaced with nothing, and with nothing to think about, I began to fall into slumber.

“You'd better not have hurt him, reptile."

Pounding throbs were echoing in my brain over a persistent, angry hum that surrounded me, aggravating my headache. The floor thumped, throwing me into the air a few inches and making my stomach quiver violently.

“He's awake," a female voice whispered, which I barely heard over the hum and the screaming pain.

The world was still dark and soft. Very soft. It was almost like I was back in my mother's womb, safe and sound, far, far away from the outside world and all the noises and sights that inhabited it and provoked my hangover.

This came to an end with a sharp zip as my sleeping bag was torn open. Naturally, it was high noon and it turned out I was facing straight up into the blazing sun. I screamed in agony. It was unmanly, but with the hangover I was facing it was necessary.

“Not gonna drink that Sirian shit again..." I muttered, covering my eyes with my palms.

“You were as dry as a desert last night," said Yaleen, the sharp face of her blurry outline was visible between cracks in my fingers.

“Fuck," I groaned, removing my hands from my face and letting the hateful rays of the sun invade my brain. I pushed Yaleen's long nose out of the way as I lifted myself up onto my butt. I saw patches of pine trees pass by; I was in the back of the Hauler, which would explain the persistent hum around us. “What the hell did I have?"

“You were hallucinating. Thought you saw Neilan," she said.

“I thought I saw a Doppler."

“A what?"

“They say everyone sent to Planet has a Doppler, a Doppleganger, of themselves somewhere on it. They're violent and evil," I said, running my palm across the front of my face. “But why did I see…?"

“You made love to a Lacertan," she chuckled, her smooth pads running across my short hair. I was too ill to swat her away.

“I only licked him on the..."

“True love knows no boundaries. And after everything you went through, I couldn't blame you for looking for comfort, even if from a reptile," she leaned in front of my face, her green eyes narrowed and her left, pointed ear flicking in irritation. “But just a lick was enough for you to ingest a secretion on your man's scales that happened to be hallucinogenic to non-Lacertans."

“And then I had to give you a dose of sleep venom," a third voice, from the front of the Hauler, spoke in a low rasp.

Ignoring the Vulpeculan woman, I turned to the front. Sticking above the the driver's seat was a narrow skull with cerulean scales and two long, pointed horns sticking out from the top, where you'd expect the ears to be on one of the furred alien's heads, such as Yaleen.

“Who the hell are you?" I demanded, scrambling out of the flatbed and landing in the passenger's seat. He was a Lacertan, with a narrow snout ending with a curved spike between his thin, flared nostrils. His green eyes were even brighter than Yaleen's and the pupils were slit, very similar to her own. Covering up his muscular torso was a thick black vest, very similar in appearance to kevlar. He was entirely focused on driving, not taking his hands off the wheel nor looking away from the road the entire time I talked with him.

“Lazsh."

“Gesundheit," I said, rubbing at my throbbing temples. A steep hill seemed to pop out of nowhere on the horizon, in our immediate path.

“Sirth sent me to keep an eye on you and to read the map," he muttered as he reached down to shift gears. “And to take you both back if you prove to be a failure or a liability."

“Yes, Pawel," Yaleen interjected, poking her head between the seats and planting her palms on the top of our seats. Her voice dripped with sarcasm. “And now we have such a handsome lizard to watch over us and stop us from killing ourselves in a fit of madness."

“You owe me for that, Pawel," Lazsh said. “I will collect later."

“Great," I said, pulling open the glove compartment and retrieved a white Lupiad cigarette. Holding the metal end of it, which doubled as a filter and a lighter, I twisted it, instantly engulfing the white tube in flames. Putting the filter to my lips, I inhaled, letting the potent tobacco smoke, or whatever it actually was, fill my lungs. My headache began to dull and my mind focused. The taste was horrendous and it burned away in maybe two minutes at most, but it was powerful and best of all, worked to alleviate hangover symptoms. “I'm now in debt to two reptile gang members."

“We will fuck and we will be even," Lazsh said without a hint of emotion.

“The fuck?"

“Exactly. We will fuck."

“No, that's not..."

I was silenced as the truck reached the edge of the hill and was treated to a vast valley, as schizophrenic in the array of climates as the rest of Planet. Without any warning, the grasslands suddenly cut away into a massive, sandy desert without a hint of life. At least, no hints except for the countless drivers of the vehicles plowing across the desert, kicking up a storm of sand behind them. They were heading in the same direction as us and it was several days to Rust, but they were gunning it.

“Kurwa!" I cursed. “It's a stampede! Floor it!"

“Hold on."

Yaleen braced herself, gripping onto the handles lining the outside of the Hauler. Laszh shifted gears, gave the gas a quick step, and we were soon barreling down the hill.

Grabbing the radio and tuning it, I found a channel with active chatter.

“This is Skinbag, approaching stampede at desert. Whats the news? Regulian or English," I said into the speaker. There was no point in advertising I spoke Polish, it just wasn't common and people appreciated brief messages on the radio.

A voice, familiar but masked by heavy static, replied, “Ebi here. Rumors about new tunnels in the Catacombs. Caused a rush."

How the hell did this get out? Wolfy or White Stripe could have seen the map and spread the word after they lost it…

“Skinbag," Ebi continued, snickering a little, “rumors also say you let that snake have you for the night to extend your loan. I warned you about him."

Laughter erupted on the radio, followed by a series of jibes and insults in various languages across the galaxy.

Chik, that garbage-eating piece of shit. He must have leaked it. What the hell is his game? Or was it Sirth who ordered it? He wants me to fail…

But we had something they didn't: the map, and so long as we kept our heads down and avoided conflict, we wouldn't lose it.

I strapped on a pair of goggles as the Hauler slammed into the desert, kicking up a cloud of sand. Yaleen did the same, as well as covering up her face with her long scarf. Lazsh did not react to the sand at all, leaving his reptilian eyes exposed.

Deserts were dangerous on Planet. All of Planet was dangerous, but a basic rule is that if you see tire tracks in a road, it's safe to follow it, so long as the tracks don't suddenly vanish. Planet was full of natural anomalies, many of which were dangerous and unpredictable, and the desert sand buried tire marks within minutes of them being made, making the desert potentially a big, dusty mine-field. We'd have to slow down and test the grounds as we went along, a few trucks were firing tracer rounds in their immediate path and if they started acting unusually, they'd change course.

One Lupiad I traveled with on my first week on Planet got caught in an anomaly in a desert once. Launched him up straight up into the air. We never found his body. He was a good guy.

“Three Lupiads approaching from the right!" Yaleen cried out.

Looking to the right, I caught sight of a pitch-black off-road vehicle swerving to our side. The driver and the passengers, all brown-furred Lupiads with white muzzles, were wielding pistols and sub-machine guns. Their tongues were lolling out, smiles on their faces in spite of the fact that they were swallowing sand.

“Hey assholes! Look at the decal! This truck is protected by Sirth!" I shouted, pointing to the side of the truck.

“I bet it is!" Their driver said mockingly, his pink nose flaring. “How many times did you suck his cock to get it?"

Sirth or Chik, whoever spread this rumor was killing my reputation. With my left hand, I reached for my pistol, only just now realizing that it was not on my body. There were magazines littered on the floor of the Hauler, but no gun in sight.

“Why don't you pull over?" The scrawny Lupiad in the back seat yelled, stroking the barrel of his SMG. “We'll show you what Lupiad cock looks like."

Something heavy landed in my left palm. I peered over for a split second and caught Yaleen's gloved paw pulling away from my Beretta, which was now in my hand. Cocking the hammer back, I clenched the grip. My right hand, my good hand, was still sore from punching out that bouncer. It was dangerous to fight like this in the desert, but these guys weren't quitting and I wanted to make sure I fired first.

“Yeah! Make you scream like a bitch in heat!"

“We take good care of our bitches!"

They laughed again, fangs and tongue exposed wildly. They were small-time idiots and would have never bothered me unless they were convinced I was beneath them, typical of Lupiads, but thanks to someone's poisonous words, they were now certain I was a bottom, a prison bitch, an easy score.

It was time to prove them wrong.

Without a word, I quickly pointed my pistol at them and pulled the trigger.

After the first shot, they ducked behind the steel doors of their truck, even the driver who slouched in his seat, now looking like a child driving a car. Only one shot rang true, catching the tip of the driver's ear, slapping a bloody chunk of flesh against their windshield. To their driver's credit, he didn't scream and his driving was not effected by this development.

My gun clicked. Empty. I ducked just before the two Lupiad passengers emerged with their guns drawn.

Their bullets rat-tat-tatted against the side of the Hauler, but I was a human and didn't have giant pointy ears on the top of my head, so I missed catching one. I grabbed a magazine and slammed it into the pistol.

“Wait," Lazsh ordered. He was sitting up straight, heedless of the danger we were in. Did he figure he was bullet-proof?

With one swift motion, he pulled a bulky pistol out from his hip and aimed it over my head. It fired, sounding like a loud slap on the cheek.

“Reloading! Cover!" Lazsh shouted over my ringing ears.

A heavy explosion rang out behind us. Looking back, I saw Yaleen firing my shotgun with one hand, still clutching onto the truck handle for dear life with her other paw.

Lifting my gun, I fired another volley. There was a large, smoking hole in the front of their truck, probably from Lazsh's heavy pistol, but it didn't seem to slow them down. My bullets pinged against their steel door, which was now littered with holes.

I took cover once more, fishing for a magazine. A voice crackled to life on the radio.

“We'll split Skinbag and his loot with you."

“Deal!" A voice screamed out from our foes' truck.

Another truck, this one tan, sped up on our left, followed by a rapid series of pops from an automatic rifle. The truck overtook us, swerving in front of us. Two Regulians, their manes as tan as the truck they rode and covered in countless braids, reloaded their rifles and took aim.

“Kurwa!"

I fired through the windshield in a blind panic, creating webs of cracks around the impacts. I kept my head down as the Lupiads continued their assault on our right, the door shaking violently with every shot.

All this did was delay the Regulians and they leveled their weapons at us.

Lazsh swerved the truck violently to the left, slamming my head against the solid scales of his shoulder. The Regulians began firing again, one bullet slicing through the door like a knife through hot butter. I had to check to make sure I wasn't hit.

I waited, listening for a break in their firing, but it seemed the Regulians were organized enough to fire in turns and they knew that sooner or later, one of their bullets would pierce and hit someone important.

“Get us out of here!" I snapped at Lazsh, reaching over the door and blindly firing a few rounds off.

“I..."

There was a whoosh and without any warning, we were at least fifteen feet into the air being propelled violently and swiftly forward, the nose of the truck nodding downward.

I slammed my hand onto the button for the grav-stabilizer and the Hauler began to level out, our descent slowing slightly. I grabbed onto a handle with my free hand, ignoring the pain.

We slammed into the ground with a heavy thud. Lazsh, not missing a beat, slammed his foot back on the gas, kicking back a cloud of sand.

I peered back. Yaleen had somehow managed to hold on and still had my shotgun. Our pursuers were far behind us, but still chasing us. They split up, leaving a gap between them, hoping to avoid the anomaly that propelled us into the air.

“Yaleen, the rifle!" I shouted.

“What the fuck was that!?" She shrieked.

“An anomaly. No time to explain. Get the rifle and pick them off!"

“I need both hands to use it! If we hit another of those..."

“Take my seat!" I ordered, leaping out of it and into the flatbed. I got on my belly and crawled towards the end of it, taking cover behind a crate of cigarettes near the edge. Yaleen buckled herself into the seat, twisting her body back and leveling the Mosin Nagant, aiming it over my head.

The muzzle flashed and she racked the bolt, letting the casing fall back and bounce off my head.

“Difficult shot," she announced, taking another shot. “They're gaining on us."

Once again, the casing hit my head. Shortly after, another shot rang out.

“One Regulian down."

“You sure?"

“Fell out of the truck. Hole in forehead."

She took another shot and ejected the casing. Stopping, she rooted around for a clip to reload the rifle with. I took this chance to peek up, resting my pistol on the crates.

The black vehicle housing the Lupiads was beginning to emit a lot of smoke from the engine and their pursuit began to slow down. The Regulians, on the other hand, were barreling towards us at speeds the Hauler could not match.

The Regulians began to fire and I ducked, firing blindly at them from cover. There was no chance I could hit them, but I had to do something to hold them off. They kept gaining on us, not heeding me at all.

My gun clicked. I ejected and replaced the magazine, just in time to catch a Regulian leering angrily at me from the other side of a rifle barrel, fangs barred.

I fired three rounds. In a stroke of luck, I managed to hit the driver, who fell limp against the wheel. The truck swerved violently and the last Regulian leaped from the truck towards me.

He landed atop me, pinning me to the flatbed with his massive body. He no longer had his gun, but his face was inches away from mine. His hot, rancid breath blasted my face as he growled, jaws lowering to expose his fangs.

And then his head was gone, replaced with a fine, red mist. I heard the slap of Lazsh's gun a split-second later. Holding my hands against his neck-stump to stop my face from getting spurted with blood, I looked back to see Lazsh aiming that heavy pistol back, the muzzle of it still smoking.

“You owe me again," he said, holstering his gun and turning back to the road.

“Yeah, we'll fuck. Later, okay?"

Having killed and/or evaded our pursuers, Lazsh slowed down the pace of the truck, shifting into a lower gear. Yaleen swung out from the passenger seat, helping me out from under the dead Regulian. A jet of blood caught her right in the middle of her jumpsuit, but she did not seem to react at all. It was not exactly the kind of reaction I expected from a Princess, but at this point I was no longer surprised by her indifference to violence.

I got back in my seat and lifted up the speaker of the radio.

“This is Skinbag. Just killed three shitheads and left three more behind with broken bones and a broken truck. Anyone else who fucks with me can join them."