Solar Joint Stories: The Tale of the Bad, Beautiful & Free
Blood and Chicks: That's What This Bitch Lives For...
There’s a time-honored tradition in the solar joint “Doc’s Oasis,” the toast. Only it isn’t your normal well-wishing over a tall class of amber-colored alcohol. The toast is a time to tell stories. To rant, to rave, to regale. Talk of grand triumphs and complete failures. All unfiltered, and all in the company of friends. This is one of those stories.
G’d’evening Doc, thanks for the brew! Now you guys and gals better believe when I say that she seemed like my kind of case alright.
Between that flaming truck, her gray, fuzzy body huddled on the ground, and the scavenger rifling through the wreck, that right there was a score that needed settling if ever there was one. That’s where lil’ Miss Feral Fay comes in.
I didn’t even stop when I caught wind of the smoke. I just pulled my Stetson’s brim down, pushed my shades up, got her in gear, and dug my claws good and deep into that throttle of hers. Whoever it was, it’d be all of them against all 18 feet of my Caddy, all six feet of me, and all three feet of Mr. Winchester himself. My Series 62 handled herself well, so I let go of the wheel long enough to bust out the ‘92 and rustle up some ammo from my bullet belt. Off the rack he came, and in went a coupla slugs off my left thigh.
I propped myself up on the door and eyed up the sonofabitch, his white fur bristling in the desert wind. He’d bristle alright after I went through him. The biggest thing was having my left knee holding her to course. Driving with your knees is a toughie, not gonna lie. But it worked. Speaking of working, I was slamming that lever like there was no tomorrow, the ol’ goat of a gun sounding off with the fury of a whip. I kept firing off until—BANG!
Sweet slug went right in the knees. The hound was on the ground and trying to get a hold of himself.
I slid the ‘92 back on the rack and got my hands on the wheel. I could feel each and every cylinder pounding and rattling right up through me. Every ring on every digit was vibrating with the engine. Felt good on the pads of my paws. As the sucker writhed, I kicked her up one last gear and—BAM!
I stomped right down and over the squirming mass she went. Not a drop of the bastard on her baby-blue paint too. That’s the best lead foot in the business right there; it’s how I win my duels after all. I slammed both of ‘em on the brakes and looked over my handy work.
Solid 8.
Personally, I woulda said 10, but you gotta be objective about this shit. He was still kinda moving. So into reverse my Caddy went.
With the scavenger out of the way, I turned my attention to the lady. Gosh was she all shook up. I didn’t want to freak her out by pulling up after having done away with the guy, so I decided to hop out and give her a hand. I slid my sandals out from under the seat and strapped them on. Over the car door I went, and made my way to her.
I could tell she was probably only 27 or so, no older or younger than me by much. Her tank top was torn, jeans shredded. Only thing unscathed were her boots.
I reach out to help her up and she recoils, naturally. I figured she needed some smoothing over at that point, and I started to talk, softest voice I had.
“Hey there. I know it’s Hell out here Beautiful, but you’re safe now. No one’s gon’ hurt you.” I smiled and pull my shades to my snout’s edge.
She looked absolutely puzzled at first. But I mean, if you just been through a raid and saw a tall red gal, fur’s scruffy, she’s got more jewelry than sense, and she’s dressed like Daisy Duke with a Rambo complex, you’d probably not be too hot on that being your savior. But she must’ve been shook up so good and fierce, ‘cause she got up and fell right in my arms. I held her for a while, but I didn’t get much time to soothe her. She was gone, Daddy, gone; passed out right then and there.
I pick her up threshold-carrying-style and laid her down in the backseat. I got a blanket over her and decided the best thing to do was roll on back to my camp. I kept my shoes on and didn’t gun the Caddy too hard. Meant it took longer, but y’know, fragile goods-n-all.
It wasn’t until nightfall she woke up. I was doing some fireside reading when I heard her come round.
“Where am I?” she said with that sweet voice of hers.
“My camp Beautiful,” I reply, “You conked out on me, so I figured it was best to let you rest. Feeling better?”
“Felt like I was hit by a truck, but I’m alright.”
“Well the asshole who did sure got knocked down! Got any familia?”
“None,” she sighed, “Was going it on my own.”
“Tough gal, I like it,” I chuckled, “Shame about your ride.”
“Well…at least I still got me.” Always telling it how it is, that’s Lori, even after a tango with scavengers.
Oh yeah, she dropped her name on me right about then.
“Lori,” she says. “Name’s Lori.”
“Name’s Fay,” I winked, “Anywho, I think I can help you with the wardrobe. Those jean’s would make for nice cutoffs, and I think I got a top your size in the trunk.”
I did and I took a few minutes to help her get changed. I threw her my other pair of sandals, and in no time, she was looking like a real compadre. Then I got to look at those beautiful eyes and that soft fur in the fire’s light. Was it poor taste for me to do what came next? Abso-fucking-lutely. But it wasn’t like I wasn’t gonna court her. In fact, I knew just the spot to take her to talk things over
“Hey, hop up front with me,” I smiled.
I killed the fire and jumped up into the driver’s seat as she clambered over to shotgun-side. I turned the engine over and revved the Caddy up.
“What you up to?” she asked.
“Wanna take you to the Ridge. It’s damn good for stargazing at this hour.”
“Why?”
I was mid-rev when she popped the question, and at that moment I went beet red. That classic feral tact came out. “You wan’ the real scoop?”
“Sure.”
“I think you are goddamn gorgeous.” That’s all I said, didn’t even broach the subject. The words took a while to hit her, but when they did, she just burst out laughing. I mean the kind of cackle that’d scare a witch right off her broom. Scared the bejeezus out of me ‘cause, hell, I wasn’t expecting that. Accosting, you bet! Confusion, certainly! Laughter? Not at all.
I think she caught the embarrassed look in my eye and that was when she came back down to earth. I felt that warm gray hand on my shoulder.
“It’s just my luck,” she giggled, “That I’d fall in with a chick like you.”
I smiled.
“Tell you the truth, now that I see you…you ain’t too bad yourself.” She worked her hand down to my crimson crop top. Here’s the part for all the boys out there.
“Not bad in the ways that count.” she comes on.
Now I just about died laughing when I heard that. In no time at all, we dropped it all on the floor and had the time of our lives. I could just eat her up whole that night, I swear. Still no idea why she was down for it, but hey, she was game and we were having our fun, right Baby?
She’ll still tease me about it every now and then, how quick on the draw and slow on the take. But I mean, Lord almighty, when we hit the end, I was baying at that moon like the child of the night I was. I was kicking on the throttle so hard, my baby was just about flooded. We fell right off the high at some point, and then she finally hits me right.
“You feral sonofagun,” she grinned.
“Proud as can be about it,” I says, “Watch this.”
I flipped the console down between us and opened her up. I nabbed a red vial from within its mini-rack, popped the top, and drank it right down. She looked at me, the pair of us still birthday-suited and asked, “is that what I think it is?”
“Yes ma’am. I do believe it is.”
She was somewhere between hysterics and bemusement, so I explained it best I could. “I don’t kill ‘em when I race ‘em. I just have them gimme a little of this when they lose. No one dies, but they get the pain their supposed to, and I get the pleasure I’m supposed to. Besides, a duellist’s blood is the tastiest.”
I know a couple of the men ‘round these parts can attest to that.
Yes you too Ricky, you goddamn freak!
Boys, boys, boys, never make me laugh this hard again alright? Alright.
Anyway now. As you all can imagine now, she started to see things my way, and that last line had her in stitches. It was then that I crossed the bridge too far.
“Don’t put on a thing, we’re cooling off on our way to the Ridge.”
“Do you mean?” she asked, now absolutely perplexed.
“Yes I do,” I teased, “It’s my idea of a cold shower.”
“I think I’ll sit this one out.”
She threw her clothes back on, but I didn’t budge.
“Suit yourself,” I grinned, “At least buckle up.”
That she did, because she knew I wasn’t going to step off ‘til we got there. And that was the God’s-honest-truth. I dug my claws in and put the gas to the ground. me and the Caddy now one in the same. We bounded off and away, across the sands, and finally reached that little gate they always keep putting up on me. Lori was a little freaked out by it.
“Look out!”
“I am,” I teased.
We flew through the air, wheels spinning on nothing for a good second, and landed on my ledge. This was where I pounced on my brakes. The Caddy slid to a stop in seconds.
“That’s why we call it a Power Brake,” I chuckled, kissing her on the head.
By this point, I was sure she was going to be scared off, cuss me out, do all the other shit, y’know. Look, I trust that I have a way of getting to folks, but pulling stunts like that is THE litmus test. But then, by the grace of who-knows-what, she was coming onto me again! Swear to God, she just was all over me.
Ah! Just like she is right now, huh Beautiful? This is how you know they’re a keeper, I’m telling ya.
I finally threw my garb back on and we hightailed it back to Camp. The next few days were some of the best of our lives. We were duelling, driving, kissing, hugging, and loving every minute of it. Even found her another pair of jeans and a nice hat like mine, so in time, she was riding around looking like a real cute cowgirl, boots and all. I hadn’t felt that good since Heather was still around. Lori’s different in that she always seems to be reining me in best she can, but I’ll go out on a limb and say she likes being with me. That’s all I could ask. That’s all I asked of Heather before she…shit…
I’m alright Lori, I’m fine. Just memories now.
Anyway, it all seemed so nice and perfect. Knowing me in hindsight, it was going too good, I just didn’t see it coming.
All I remember was a good crack on the head. I mean, someone just coming right up behind and billy-clubbed me into a coma. Whole world gone black. And then it’s all comin’ up gnarly.
Somehow, these scavengers got their greasy mitts on a torture rack. Like old school medieval shit man, never seen anything like it since. The torches that night made it kinda spooky too. So I was strapped down on it, see. Still clothed, for the most part, but they either took my hat or left it with Lori. All I was thinking of was about her and hoping she would kick out of whatever the bastards did.
So the head honcho comes up to me with his coked-up mumbling.
“Rahble, rahble revengeancing the revenge of the avenging” blah blah blah.
Whether the cat was his brother, friend, father, who the fuck knows. I kinda didn’t care either way ‘cause of the whole, y’know, TORTURE RACK thing.
So he starts getting this thing going, and at first, leave it to me to find the thing kinda hot. It wasn’t the guy though, it was the stretching. I was getting things popped and pushed into place that I hadn’t in years. But then you hit the pleasure limit and it’s all pain from there. If it wasn’t for this beautiful thing here, I woulda been drawn and quartered.
C’mon Lori, don’t be modest, you came in and kicked ass that night. She was gunning the Caddy right through their little rinky-dink compound, and barreling over people, and when she got to the rack, she just dropped that sonofabitch like a sack of potatoes. She had just enough time to cut me loose and wind me back into shape. I stumbled onto the hood, and clambered back behind the wheel. Gave her big ol’ kiss on the snout too, like this!
God you still taste good.
Did it all just in time for the scavenger to leap up. Lori popped my hat back on my head, and I only gave him three words to say his piece.
“Filthy feral bit—”
BAM!
Okay, so it was two-and-a-half. Kinda hard to resist, what can I say? Felt good being back behind the wheel too and so I took on everyone I could. Engine felt nice rattling up my bones, over theirs. Just all sorts of fun.
After a while, I hit the brakes and got a good look at these guys’ rides. A pretty black Mustang caught my eye, her rag-top being pulled down made her stand out. So I looked over to her and says, “You can drive stick right?”
She says “no shit,” and I says, “Gon’ get ya a little present if you don’t mind.”
I duck into the glove box, grab my big honking key ring and bolt it for the ‘Stang. I hop right in, my God what a beauty, what an absolute black beauty. I turned that mutha over and that V8 smacked me flush in my face. I revved her up good-n-plenty, and just as I’m about to take off, I catch a glimpse of a figure slowly rising from behind the ‘Stang. I put her in reverse, and in no time—
WHAM!
Dude shoots up just in time for me to pin him up against a wall. I park her and clamber over to greet him.
“Well well well,” I says, “You look like a treat.”
He comes at me swinging his black Army knife and I just grab a hold of it and slit his throat. Good, clean, simple. But then I gets to thinking, whadda these guys taste like? Scavengers I mean.
Tasted pretty good. Lots of iron in ‘em, but I guess that comes with the turf. After having my drink, I got the ‘Stang back in gear and gave her metal paw a good kick. Lots of power behind this one. And I was gonna find out how much. Another one of these fellas came running up to the ride, guns blazing. I didn’t step off. Popped him one in the gut. He tried crawling away, but I had the ‘Stang pin him down by the legs. Lori saw the head, and gave him the boot. Pretty good tag teaming that night.
We finally make our way to the gate, and we got one last one, baddest bitch of ‘em all she was. I went out ahead of Lori and the Caddy. She was mine all mine, yessir! I figured she was a white, but the firelight didn’t help much. If she was, musta been a dusty one. Probably spent all day out in the field hunting.
What really got me into it was…I remember that look in her eyes. She got that whack look in her eye, y’know the one them scavengers always get when they see a fresh clunker waiting for the cutter’s torch. All I do is smirk.
“You ain’t gonna let her get in the way of freedom, are ya?”
The ‘Stang’s answer was a resounding “hell no.” I kicked her up a gear and held that throttle to the floor. She burst through the gate, picking the chick up with her. She clung to the windshield as I let out the howl of real gone heathen. Everyone in a ten-mile radius coulda heard that one I swear. I decided to take this gal for a real ride since she decided to tag along. Every time the bitch tried to climb over, I brake-checked her and slid her back down. I looked over and saw there was a road up to a cliff of some kind. There were lights at the bottom, and all they showed was a bunch of empty metal frames and rusted parts.
Guess the graveyard’s good as any place to finish her. That ‘Stang’s riding high now for me, and we take the winding, dusty trail up to their tipping spot. I kind got to liking the chick on the hood. On one hand, she was able to hold on through every bend. On the other, she was a hot little hood ornament. I think the guys in the room can appreciate this little detail: I could see right down her cans.
Mm-mm-hmm. Not a bad rack at all.
Then I get to thinking; if she’s willing to go this far with me, maybe she’s the missing link in all of this? Again, still don’t know whether she was the sister, wife, girlfriend, mistress, who knows, but she musta known why I was dragged out here.
In time, we made it to the top and I whipped the ‘Stang around and finally punched those brakes. She finally fell right off and that’s when the toughest fight of my life broke out.
I kicked the gun away from her and winged it over the cliff. If we were gonna fight, I wanted it mono-y-mono, fisticuffs to the death! And we popped one another in the mouth, in the gut. A shot or two below the belt may have been exchanged that evening as well.
Yup, you guessed it: the shins.
That was the moment where she finally got a good hold on me and slammed me up against the hood of the ‘Stang. The hot metal at my back and her arm on my neck really had me thinking I was done for. I was kicking and reeling, but she just had me pinned.
“Took ya what, five seconds to kill him? Gonna make you suffer a whole lot longer for it.”
Yup, she was the one alright.
Just as soon as it seemed I’d be taking that one way ticket to midnight, something just…I dunno, erupted from me. Lil’ Miss Feral Fay, yours truly, gave this broad one fat rabbit kick in the gut, and she finally was off of me. After that, I went right for the throat.
Now, I don’t know if it was a woman thing, a scavenger thing, or a “I-just-got-taken-for-a-helluva-ride” thing, but she tasted delicious. If I may be so eloquent, ‘twas a sanguinary feast, most resplendent I dare say.
In layman’s terms, she took care of herself.
As you could imagine, she wasn’t taking it so well. She clenched her neck, did the whole staggering bit, and just as I finished licking my lips.
BAM!
In rode Lori! Da-da-da-duh-da-duh! Ran ‘er right through the fence that blocked off the tipping area. Caddy took the hit like a champ. I heard both of her shit-kickers pounce on the brakes, and after a short stop, our hostess took a quick drop. I hopped the fence to see and…wowzer.
Like…have you ever seen one of them real bad wrecks, and you got one guy just pummeled through the windshield? Well she was kinda resting like that in one of the rusted out frames, except that there was no windshield, or interior. Just face…meet rock. At probably 50 miles-an-hour.
In other words, Lori earned her first 10 that night!
Please hold your applause, I will now give the champion her Victory Circle salute. C’mere Beautiful.
God, rum’s good on your lips.
Anywho, that’s about how our first year went. Been going steady ever since. Don’t let the cute face fool you, she’s the toughest cowgirl I ever rode with. Let’s hope we keep riding as long as the sun shines. Gotta keep us bad, beautiful, and free somehow. Y’all drink to that?
Right on.
Well whaddya—Rod and Bette you sonsofbitches! Get over here!