“The road
runner still about?” he asked, his question directed toward The king whose head
snapped up quickly,
“Thinking of
getting the old gang back together?” he asked
“Just answer
the question” he spat
“Yeah he’s
still around, own an old junk yard, so’s Mary Lou and I’m sure we could
convince the Queen to cool her jets and join us” he said a smile playing on the
corners of his mouth,
“What about
Crazy Jane and Killer Joe?” he asked his eyelids heavy from their lack of sleep
and his words lazy from the liquor,
“Yep all
still around this shit hole somewhere” the King of sorrow answered,
“Then let’s
go find um” the gunner said turning and beginning to walk away, “where’s the
junk yard, I’m assuming Road runner will have some wheels and he’ll know where
to find the others a little better than you will” he said offering his insults
for the kind through they seemed not to bother him as he had drifted in a world
of his own sadness, “hay” the gunner snapped
“What!” the
king yelled breaking free of whatever sorrowful memory he had fallen into
“Where they
hell are we going” the Gunner said slowly yet harshly
“That way”
the king answered in disgust at being disturbed and pointed down the road, he
stood and rubbed his eyes, “come on pretty lady” he muttered through his sleep
fuelled haze and held out a hand for her,
“Might catch
something King” The gunner hissed over his shoulder though they paid him no
heed and simply followed silently behind him as he strode down the street as
bold as shined brass.
As they walked and the day grew brighter
the king of Sorrow called out directions for the Gunner to follow and before
long in the distance they could see the crocked outline of a building and
with-in seconds of the outline came the hand painted, worn sign, ‘Road Runner Junk
Yard’ though some of the letters had worn away the mind corrected their
absence. All around the yard were piles of junk metal, old cars and parts, oil
drums and sheets of corrugated tin; all of these factors added to the crocked
outline of the building as they had seen it from a few miles away, now as they
drew closer the only actual building was a small brick house with a side
building used as an office and it was less of a crocked shape and more two
squares one smaller than the other, rubbing shoulders with one another.
“Who’s the
road runner?” she asked when they were finally stood at the high, chained gates
of the yard,
“Back in the
day, that is their day” the king
began to explain as he pointed toward the Gunner “Road Runner Richie used to be
the best racer on the streets, they would ride out of town and snare some
un-suspecting guys. Then they would race back through town, winner got the
other guys car. Thing was these poor guys didn’t know who the road runner was,
he never lost a race unfortunately one night they challenged the wrong group of
guys and the runner lost an eye for his trouble since then he hasn’t raced an
inch” all through the story The gunner had stood with his hands lain upon the
chain link fence,
“Idiot never
did listen” he said more to himself than to anyone else and then he began to
shake the fence, “Richie wake up its time to go racin’” he yelled through the
links, “roooaaaddd Ruuunnneeerrr!” he yelled almost tauntingly
“WHAT! God
dam it!” a man yelled back as he shuffled from the main square building, he was
tall and lean dressed in only a dirty white vest and dark jeans which he
fastened as he shuffled out into the early morning, his hair was red and curled
tight to his head and freckled spattered his pale cheeks,
“Richie, you
ugly son of a...” the Gunner yelled and she could tell just how much they had
meant to each other back in ‘their’
day
“Gunner,
what the..” he muttered as when he finally realised who was calling to him, as
he looked up she could finally see the eye that he had been blinded in, it was
clouded and cast an ugly purple colour and the lid drooped slightly more than
his good eye. At first she thought that he might be angry at the Gunner for
past wrong doings but then he broke into a huge smile and fumbled in his pocket
producing a shiny silver key, once he had it in hand he move quickly over to
the gate and then she noticed the second thing about him, he walked with a
pronounced limp,
“He got that
from his last race too” the king said leaning over to whisper in her ear
“I told you
king you keep getting so close to her you’re gonna catch something” The gunner
said over his shoulder, “Richie!” he pulled his friend into a hug when he
finally he the gates open and for a moment time stood still,
“Ignore him”
the king whispered in regards to his constant insults
“I’m getting
use to it” she replied
“I can guess
why you’re here” Richie said as he looked at the Gunner “dam you’re looking
haggard” he added, “come in you can tell me all about it and the girl inside
with tea” he said pulling his friend forward.
When they were all finally sat with a hot
cup in their hand though the gunner had wanted something stronger, some
questions that had been left outstanding were finally asked
“So why are
you here Gunner?” Richie asked“Thought you knew” The gunner replied as he stared down into the liquid in his cut as though trying to pull out a reading of some sort,
“Humour me” Riche replied, it was clear that he had know the gunner for a long time
“she found me, somehow, and asked me to come save your sorry asses from some American Brother thinks he’s the shit and can do whatever he wants and so i though I’d best come down here” he said nonchalantly
“And who is she?” He asked, the gunner looked her a puzzled look upon his face
“Um, well, god knows, she’s from the thunder rooms, didn’t think it was important” he replied with a shrug. This made her feel sad something she had not yet felt in his presence; the fact that her job defined her to him was not something she wanted,
“Well since she managed to get your sorry arse back down here and back to us then I think balls to what she does for a living what’s your name sweetheart?” Richie asked with a soft smiled, for a moment she was thrown, she had nearly forgotten that she was there with them
“Jersey”
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