Carnage! Love & Lust in the Wasteland
Chapter V: Publicity
As exciting as the opening ceremonies could be Mei had to admit that some of the fire of finally being involved in a PTQ was wearing thin the longer she stood in front of cameras and lights, a hundred different reporters shouting for her to turn this way or that, to answer some mundane question about her bike, while the larger swells surrounded the teams that had Scavengers on them. And Otis Grange was drawing a particular crowd.
“Menace! Menace, over here! Nate Martinez from Mars News One. What made you decide to come out of retirement?”
“For North American Central, Menace!” called another woman. “Was your decision to flesh your team out with Scavengers a tactical one?”
“Tell us about your proteges, Menace!”
“Are you entering to take revenge against Boris Yelchin for what he did to you in Moscow?”
Mei glanced at Hawk, lingering behind Grange with his lips pressed in a tight line. They had decked him to the nines in the savagery expected of the Scavenger Chief’s son: a motorcycle vest studded with razor tips over his bare tanned chest, distressed jeans that looked odd without any vomit stains, his mohawk glued into a towering fin of hair that was freshly dyed a nuclear green, the Scav wrench on proud display where it was tattooed on the side of his scalp. They’d given him a scrub too and Mei had to admit that his fresh cheeks were a tad boyish when he was clean.
Mass, standing at his side, was drawing in the photographers due to his sheer size. They’d leaned into the gorilla look, his bulging arms pressing against the spaghetti straps of the crisp muscle shirt they’d packed the big man into. His lower half was stuffed into a set of leather pants that must’ve been made from half a cow and likely cost more than the shitbox car Hawk was driving. Izzy made a soft noise of longing at Mei’s side, veritably drooling over the overstuffed sausage. Mei raised a brow at her.
“Oh, shut up,” Izzy said, turning her head away sharply enough that the gilded beads woven into her frizzy hair clacked merrily. Dan looked over his shoulder at them, standing front and center in their group, and Mei pulled a face at him.
She was still furious at her brother’s inability to butt out. A few Scavs join the PTQ alongside an ancient retiree and he enlists himself as a last minute reserve? This was nothing short of a sleazy attempt of his to steal her glory. Not to mention taking the bulk of our team points, she thought. There would be a contest amongst the other teams to draw out the Phoenix, to prove themselves against someone already on the Circuit. Good intentions or not, Dan had painted a target on all their backs. Mei was determined to give the people a show and make them forget that the Phoenix ever stuck his beak into her business.
“Attention all press personnel,” said a voice over the PA system. “The opportunity for photos and personal interviews has now ended. Please vacate the Champion’s Lounge and take your places in the press box. The starting brackets for this year’s Pro Tour Qualifier will be revealed soon. Repeat: all press personnel to vacate the Champion’s Lounge.”
“This is a disaster,” Dan ground out through a forced smile as the last of the flashbulbs were shut out of the red velvet room. “A god damned disaster!”
“It’s not so bad, Dan,” Mei sighed. “Calm down. Have a drink or something.”
He rounded on her, near frothing at the mouth and eyes bloodshot. “I will not calm down and you will not drink tonight.” Mei blinked, then wiped a fleck of spit off her cheek, crossing her arms and leering at him.
“What’s a disaster, Dan?” Izzy interjected, putting herself in between the imminent blow up. Dan turned his intensity on her.
“I’m sorry if you failed to notice, Isabella, but the fucking Scavengers had all the attention.”
“It wasn’t all—” Mei began.
“And what’s disastrous about that,” Dan near-shouted over her, eyes boring into Mei before he continued. “Is that they will have more coverage in the media, meaning more exposure, meaning more benefactors. We’ve seen what the pitiful trash they brought to the table. What I’m worried about is the things benefactors slip to them under it.”
Mei’s gut twisted. She hadn’t thought of that before. Benefactor boons could make or break a match. She kept her discomfort from her face and scoffed.
“You worry too much,” she said, waving his comments away. “If you’re so concerned, go schmooze while we wait for the pairings.”
Dan ground his teeth, jutted his head at Teague, and the Peacekeeper followed in his stomping wake.
“What a dumb shit,” Mei said. Regardless, her guts squirmed nervously. “Come on, I need a drink.”
“Who are you liking?” Izzy said as they arrived at the bar, the android behind it dispensing a gin-and-tonic for each of them. Mei sipped hers and glanced around the room at the pods that had formed now that the press had emptied out. Eight teams, one spot on the pro-tour.
A few wild dogs waiting to be put down, she thought, looking at the Buccaneer team. With the press gone, their ruffled shirts had come undone, the leather dusters abandoned. They were calling for beers. Young, having fun, here for the rush.
“Pfft. Guess we’re all poor company,” Izzy scoffed, gesturing. The Hayao Motors team, dressed in identical suede jumpsuits, were filing out with chins held high and dark sunglasses masking their eyes. They were bearing the brunt of attention from the Freaks, who saw their supercars as a challenge to good old American muscle.
“They’d be a problem in a race,” Mei conceded. She and Izzy had snooped on one of the Hayao runs the night before when they’d arrived. The Hayao Howl MC-Ultra hadn’t been released to the public yet and the turbo-diesel compacts were bonafide tire smokers, but they rode low. “Would bog down in the Mudhole though.”
“Can’t see those performance tires getting far in the Scraps either,” Izzy agreed.
“They’ll have something to switch on,” Mei said. All the Dynasty vehicles had off-road and hard tires to swap on, depending on terrain. “Or they’ll get some local rubber in their boons.”
“Wodka,” grunted a harsh accent near them. “Bottle.” Both women looked over at the grizzled Soviet at the bar, dressed in the stiff regalia of his homeland, eyes wide and wild in his slim bearded face. He stared back at them until the android produced a bottle with a Cyrillic label. He grabbed it by the neck and cut a path back to his team.
“Heard they were using some sort of electrical weapons,” Izzy said.
“Rather watch them in a match than be their guinea pigs,” Mei agreed. She eyed the Soviets. They were all men past their primes, weathered and stoic. That could be men grasping at one final chance for glory or they could be flunk outs of the Eurasian Minor Circuit. It was hard to say.
“The Freaks or the Bugs?”
“Idiots, all of them,” Mei snorted. As their name so cleverly alluded to, the Firebugs were cult-like in their obsession with lighting anything and everything on fire. Dangerous, but only at short ranges. The stylists had leaned into the shiny burns on their skin and they wore sleeveless outfits that could only be described as fire-brigade-meets-burlesque. They were mixing with the Freaks, whose muscle car motif had been their obvious theme, their outfits like a 50s-greaser-meets-movie-monster.
“I can’t help but notice that you have pointedly avoided the most interesting of our opponents,” Mei commented, causing her friend to flush.
“We’ve had our differences, but I never wanted to…” Izzy said, giving Mei a side-eye before looking away and speaking softly. “She’s still my sister.”
Mei didn’t need long to locate Izzy’s sister Rosa in the crowd. The stylists had really steered into the wild reputation of the Scavs for their outfits. Gregor, flat-faced and hopefully as dumb as he looked, was in a set of black metal shoulder plates, his lower half barely covered in a barbarian-style fur kilt. Sammy Serrano had her dirty blonde hair teased out, cheap smeared makeup matching her slingshot bikini, with cutoff denim shorts that left nothing to the imagination. She had something of a feral cat look to her, Mei mused. Rosa was the intimidating factor to the Scavs.
She was taller than Izzy with something sharper about her features, but their resemblance was undeniable. Same high cheeks, same dark eyes, same shade of glorious chestnut hair; except that where Izzy’s was usually a mess of curls, Rosa’s was a straightened sheet of shining brown that ran the length of her back, swaying in time with her hips. She cut a path, heeled boots snapping at the end of a studded leather jumpsuit that was unzipped to the navel with nothing underneath. The Scavs were headed for the Peacekeeper team, Hawk and Mass ignorant to the bitchstorm approaching.
“Come on,” Mei said, grabbing Izzy by the arm. “Let’s go say hi.”
Mei dragged Izzy through the crowd despite her protests, shoving past the Buccaneers who had gathered to watch the Scavenger stand-off. Rosa stood in front of Hawk, matching his height in her boots, hands on her hips and head cocked.
“Hawk,” she stated, voice carrying over the small room. “I just wanted to let you know that the bounty on you stands. My dead husband Elvis Hawkins has put a bounty of one hundred thousand credits to anyone who kills his good-for-nothing son.” Rosa put her painted talons against Hawk’s cheek and pressed, running down his ashen face and leaving deep red imprints. Before Mei knew what she was about, she was moving forward. She grabbed Rosa’s wrist and pulled her snarling face around.
“Bounties are forbidden in Carnage,” Mei said. “I could have your whole scumbag team disqualified right now.”
“Well if it isn’t Hawk’s little plaything,” Rosa sneered back, trying and failing to twist free of Mei’s hold. The onlookers had fallen silent and a moment of apprehension flashed across Rosa’s dark eyes, fading instantly to a cocky smile and a mocking tone. “Oh no, are you going to get me kicked out of the contest? Too yellow to face us on the track? No pun intended.” The twist of her lip said otherwise. They held one another’s eye for a few heartbeats and Mei released her.
“Bitch,” Rosa muttered, rotating her wrist and gritting her teeth. “Come on.” She gestured to the Scavs and the trio marched off, Sammy throwing a sinister grin at Mei over her shoulder.
“I’ll see you on the track,” Mei muttered, staring daggers at the back of Rosa’s head.
“Mei, what the fuck?” Izzy got in her face, eyes hard. Mei’s anger faded and she felt suddenly sheepish.
“I didn’t hurt her.”
Izzy bit her lip, looking over her shoulder at her sister, then back at Mei. “Rosa is… She holds a grudge, Mei. She already doesn’t love that I’m on the Dynasty team. Now…”
“Whatever,” Mei threw off. Izzy looked unsure and Mei squeezed her on the arm. “I’ll protect you from your big bad sis, Izz.” She cracked a small smile and shoved Mei, who shoved her back. The clearing of a throat broke up the impending scuffle. Hawk stood nearby, shuffling his feet, eyes darting between them.
“I’ll uhh, see you later,” Izzy said, pinching her ass as she slipped by Hawk. Mei swatted at her but Izzy dodged, scissored her fingers around her mouth and flicked her tongue between them. Mei flipped her off, making Hawk look around. Izzy quickly turned the gesture into a blown kiss and skipped away.
“Rosa’s kid sister, right?”
“Hard to believe that bitch didn’t eat the rest of the litter, eh?”
“Yeah. She can be a bit of a cunt,” Hawk said casually, then looked down at Mei with wide eyes. “Sorry, I…” He trailed off, seeing she was smiling. “Surprised to see you here. Thought you were already on the circuit.”
“Nope, just a lowly tryout like you.” Mei stared at him, waiting for him to speak again. He looked… unsure of himself. Fingering a fray on his vest, smoothing a freshly plucked eyebrow and avoiding her eye. Mei’s gaze trailed down the treasure trove of soft chest hair that disappeared under the garment. Hawk noticed her looking and a crease appeared between his brow. Where was the lusty lunatic she had met at the Crossroads? “So… What are you doing here? Chasing after me?” He blushed and Mei’s grin spread wider.
“Yeah… I mean, no. No, I wasn’t. Just kinda fell into all this.” He shook his head at his surroundings and Mei chuckled. He looked more out of place than anything, his unsure expression adorable.
“It’s an easy pothole to hit,” Mei said, reaching up and flicking the tip of his outrageous mohawk. “At least you look the part. Your idea?”
“No,” Hawk stated, touching the green hair with a grimace. “The green was Kareem’s idea, the stylist. Did you know they have extensions for hair?”
“Do they? And here I thought this was all natural.” She moved a step closer and laid a finger against his chest, twisting a few strands of the fine hair around her finger. “You’re looking a little healthier than the last time I saw you.”
“And you,” he said, taking her in as well and trying to make it seem like he wasn’t. “Although, you’re a trifle less intimidating in this taffy suit.”
“Excuse me? This is the finest piece of double-woven reinforced kevlar technology that Dynasty has to offer,” Mei stated. “The fact that I look like a piece of candy is pure coincidence.”
“Well, you do taste quite sweet,” Hawk teased, making Mei flush. “But I still prefer the mini skirt.”
If Dan could see me now, she thought. Maybe he’d have a stroke and I’d get him off my back. The rogue thought clicked with something in her brain. She smiled, hooking her arm through Hawk’s as the bell chimed over the PA to signal the brackets being announced. If we can’t get the publicity to come to us, we’ll go to them… She steered Hawk toward the shuttered windows, which would roll up to reveal the main screen and the brackets.
“So,” Mei said, fully aware of the eyes on them as they wove through the contestants— Mei caught one set of eyes, that bitch Rosa, following her like a tracking buzzard. “How did you manage to convince the Menace to drive again?”
“He did that himself. We needed a third and he’s just a good guy. Knows how to draw a crowd too. I was nervous enough as it was without the whole universe tuning in to watch the Menace and his two fuck-ups try, and likely fail, to make champions of themselves.”
“You go in with that attitude and you might not make it past the first round,” Mei replied, half-serious. “Just remember your drills, stay calm, stay in formation, et cetera.”
“Formation?” Hawk snorted. “We literally formed this team yesterday and I didn’t know Otis was driving until this morning. Drills.” He shook his head, chuckling.
“Well if it’s any consolation, I’ll cry at your funeral,” Mei commented. She meant it to sound playful, coy, but the joke landed differently judging by Hawk’s face. “I was just kidding.”
“There’s a real chance I may die here,” Hawk said, voice hollow as they reached the viewing windows.
“We’re all taking our lives in our hands,” Mei said. “It’s for the glory of Carnage.”
“More like for the glory of NexGen,” Hawk scoffed, looking down at her, eyes deep and sad. His lips were soft and full and the memory of them coming down over hers at the Crossroads made her heart thump like the music on the dance floor. She rolled her tongue over her lower lip, wanting to kiss him again suddenly. Wanting him to kiss her… But the shutters were going to open any moment now. She felt her lips pursing when he sighed, looking away again. “At least I get to do it on my own terms. And if you’re the one to take me out then I’ll die happy.”
“Aww, I have a bullet with your name on it.”
He gave a humourless snort. “Already got one of those,” he muttered.
“Oh,” Mei replied, pulling back a bit. He has a bounty on his head, you idiot… And from his own father too… “Sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“Don’t be,” he said. “I’m not. Did it to myself, after all.” His expression was far away for a moment, then he shook himself and grinned, devil-may-cry to devil-may-care in the blink of an eye. “You know, it’s weird. The only time I haven’t felt like I was going to shit myself was just now, talking with you.”
“You’re sweet,” Mei replied, sidling closer again. She slipped her arm around his waist, gently turning him toward her. He responded in kind, hands slipping over her hips and onto the small of her back. His shock faded and the manic hunger that had driven her wild at the Crossroads bloomed in his eyes. His head tilted down as she rose up on her toes, lips coming closer and closer…
Hawk spasmed as the steel shutters spooled up, the windows thrown wide to reveal the camera toting idiots who were waiting there to snap more pictures. The bulbs began going off, everyone clamoring to get the unexpected shot of the Scavenger’s son and the Dynasty’s daughter caught in an intimate embrace. He tried to disentangle himself but Mei held him fast.
“Ah shit,” Mei gasped, as though she hadn’t known what would happen. She clung to him as though stunned to stillness, allowing for at least a dozen good shots from the cloying paparazzi. “My father is going to be pissed.”
But that should be worth more than a few looks from the benefactors.
“Pissed enough to roll out the tanks?” Hawk muttered, detaching himself finally and waving awkwardly as the paparazzi continued to swarm.
“No, he only scrambles those when he’s especially angry. I just bring out the best in him.”
“Let’s really piss ‘im off then,” Hawk said, leaning down and planting a wet kiss on Mei’s cheek. The cameras went nuts, their owners banging on the glass.
“Ladies and gentlemen! Children of all ages!” the announcer drummed up. Mei looked past the press at a hundred thousand faces spread through the stands with flags waving, plastic horns trumpeting, and cheap beer flowing. Since the opening parade, the fans had been entertained by clown cars, hornets, and sponsor demonstrations in between splices of any televised archive footage of the competitors and the ongoings of the Press Gala, but the unveiling breathed new life into the crowd’s drunken fervor. The jumbotrons across from the Champion’s Lounge lit up with a red and blue bracket. Mei’s breath quickened as the fanfare kicked in. It was time. “We are ecstatic to present the pairings of this Western Badlands Circuit PTQ, proudly hosted by the Dust Bowl! Without further ado, the brackets!”
“Here we go,” Mei muttered, squeezing Hawk’s arm as the left-hand bracket lit up in electric blue. Two symbols appeared in the first match-up: the Soviet hammer-and-sickle sitting above the muted badge of the Peacekeepers. “There you are!”
“There I am,” Hawk said, voice flat as he stared at the screen. “Fuck me, it’s really happening.”
Mei found herself in a moment of unexpected relief, knowing that her first match wasn’t against Hawk. While it was true that killing a driver wasn’t usually a necessity of Carnage, accidents happened more often than not and it would be a shame to lose this strange, crazy idiot so soon. She was going to win, there was no doubt in her mind about that, but if she could spare Hawk in doing it, why not? He seemed like a decent guy. And they hadn’t fucked yet, so there was that to consider.
The next match of the blue bracket lit up: Buccaneers vs. Freaks.
“And in the red bracket!” the announcer called, the right-hand bracket illuminating in violent crimson. The first teams appeared on the lines: Firebugs vs. Scavengers.
“Oh, thank fuck,” Hawk muttered.
“What?”
“I didn’t want you to… I mean, with Rosa. I—” Hawk cut off at Mei’s snorted laughter.
“Oh, my white knight. I can handle myself. And,” she added, as the final match up was reveal, “I can handle those pompous fucks from Hayao too.”
“Game formats, courses, and hazard levels to be revealed at the onset of each match,” the announcer cried, “but the first match is being selected now…”
“Well, I should be getting back,” Mei said, her plot to steal some of the publicity a rousing success in her opinion. “It’s been fun.”
“It has,” Hawk grinned. “Good luck, eh?”
“Luck is for losers. Good luck to you though.” She smiled sweetly and he rolled his eyes, grinning.
“Ladies and gentlemen, it is with great pleasure that I announce our first match-up for the morning. At 0900 tomorrow, our maiden voyage will be… the Peacekeepers versus the Soviets!”
Mei grinned wide. They weren’t first, meaning they had more time to check out the competition’s strategies. Hawk looked like his stomach was caught halfway between spewing out his mouth or falling out his ass. Soft-hearted fool, she thought, sidling closer and lowering her voice.
“There’ll be mixers after the first round, just for competitors and friends. If you survive, I can repay you for your… generosity at the Crossroads.” Mei pecked him on the cheek and hurried away, leaving him gawking dumbstruck after her.
He was fun. She sort of hoped he didn’t die.
Next on the roster is Chapter VI: Restless Nights