Chapter 22 Friends in Arms

 Henry began to land blow after blow on Dune. Each strike was punishing. Her suit offered little protection at this point, and the attacks left her staggering. He knocked her to the ground, blows were relentless.

Henry stood over her, a sadistic grin on his face as he admired the pain he was inflicting.

“You thought you could take me down, huh? Just like the rest of them. But I’m still standing. And you’re nothing but a broken mess.”

Dune, gasping for air, her body aching, could barely move. She was running out of options.

Henry stepped back for a moment, his laughter echoing through the desert. He was savoring the victory. Dune and her team had been a formidable opponent, but now, she was nothing more than a casualty of his rage.

“Pathetic wasteland worm! You were never going to win this fight. Not against me. In the end, you were nothing but a nobody from the slums! Time to die, scum!”

Henry stood over Dune with his gun out, his breathing heavy, savoring his moment of victory. He was about to shoot when, suddenly, he felt a cold steel pressed firmly against his temple. His eyes widened, and he froze for a moment, completely caught off guard.

A low, mechanical hum followed, a cloaking blanket powered down, revealing a tall figure. He had a steady hand holding a gun aimed directly at Henry's head. The voice came from the man.

"In the end, you're just a Skytech dog."

Henry’s smug grin faltered. He started to turn his head, “And who the fuc—”

But before he could finish the word, there was a loud boom, cutting Henry off mid-sentence. The impact of the bullet smashed into Henry's skull. His body jerked violently, his eyes going wide with shock, and then, his lifeless form crumpled to the ground.

The figure stepped forward, gun still smoking. The sound of the shot seemed to ring in the air for a moment before the desert fell silent. Dune, still recovering from her injuries, turned her head in disbelief.

The mysterious figure stood over Henry’s body, the cloak shifting slightly, revealing a man's face - it was Conor, the Steeljaw. 

With one final glance at Dune and the rest of the group, he spoke.

"You're welcome, Dune. We're even now. But next time we cross paths, it might you be the one on the ground, just like this Skytech scum."

He gestured with a slight nod toward Henry’s body, then turned and walked away. His heavy boots crunched against the ground; his cloaking device reactivated. His form shimmered and disappeared once more.

Sable finally crawled out from his hiding spot behind a pile of rocks, his face pale and eyes wide with shock. He dusted himself off, wincing as he straightened up.

"Is it over?" he asked in a shaky voice.

 "Please, tell me it’s over, because I don’t think my heart can take much more of this."

Without waiting for an answer, he shuffled cautiously toward Henry’s body. His hands trembled as he leaned down and plucked the device from the crumpled remains of Henry’s combat suit. 

"It’s still intact! I can’t believe it survived!" he shouted, holding it up like a trophy. 

Meanwhile, Dune, beaten and bruised, leaned against a rock, trying to catch her breath. Blood trickled from a cut on her forehead, but she ignored it, her eyes fixed on her team.

Mia, coughing slightly, pushed herself to her feet and hurried to Reed. He was sprawled on the ground, barely moving, his eyes half-closed and lips muttering faint, incoherent words. She knelt beside him, shaking his shoulders.

"Reed! Come on, big guy, wake up! Don’t you dare pass out on me now!" 

Reed groaned, his head lolling to one side.

 "Ice cream... needs... more ketchup," he mumbled, his voice slurred.

Mia blinked, half-laughing, half-crying.

 "What? No, Reed! Focus! Snap out of it!" She shook him harder.

Finally, Reed’s eyes fluttered open, and he blinked a few times, his gaze slowly focusing on Mia’s worried face.

"Did... did we win?" he asked groggily, attempting a lopsided grin.

Mia let out a relieved laugh, tears glistening in her eyes. 

"Yeah, Reed, we won. Now stop scaring me, you big oaf!" She pulled him into a hug before helping him sit up.

Sable, still clutching the device tightly, glanced back at them. 

"Well, I’d say we did. And we’ve got this little beauty to prove it."

Back at Dune’s place, the team sat in tense silence as Sable connected recovered device to the system, data streaming across the screen in a blur of numbers and schematics. Sable was focused, his hands navigating through the complex interface.

Finally, he leaned back in his chair, letting out a long, relieved sigh.

"It’s real. This is exactly what I need. The blueprint to the device I am looking for. You’ve done it. We’ve done it!"

Dune, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, asked, "So, that means we’ve fulfilled your request, right? No strings, no sudden changes of heart? You will keep your end of the deal?"

Sable swiveled his chair to face her, "I’m a man of my word, Dune. The rest of the promised platinum gears will be delivered tomorrow, just like I said. No funny business. After everything I've seen, I have no intentions of making enemy out of any of you."

Mia, still nursing a bruise on her arm, jested, "You better. After everything we’ve been through, I’d hate to have to chase you down next."

Reed, lying on a makeshift cot with an ice pack pressed against his jaw, mumbled, "Hey! It was a pretty fun adventure, would be nice to go on another sometime. Right, Sable?"

Sable gave an exaggerated shiver and a nervous laugh.

 "Perish the thought! You guys are scary, crazy to say the least."

Dune smiled, but her gaze stayed sharp.

 "Good. Because if those gears don’t show up, we’ll go on a little adventure to find you. And trust me, we’ll be scarier than you can imagine. It will involve a lot of guns and fire."

Sable held his hands up, grinning sheepishly. 

"Calm down. You’ll have them tomorrow."

The next day, true to his word, Sable arrived at Dune’s place with a crate full of shimmering platinum gears. He handed them over with a dramatic bow.

"As promised, your reward. And might I say, it was well-earned. I will admit, I had my doubts many times, but you pulled it off and for that I tip my hat."

Dune inspected the gears with a critical eye before nodding. 

"Looks like we’re square."

Mia asked, "So, what now? Do we go for a drink, or is this where we go our separate ways?"

Sable shifted on his feet, his usual nervous energy returning.

 "Well, I’ve got more work ahead—there’s always another project, another disaster to avert. But… if any of you ever need something—tech advice, a repair, maybe even a favor—don’t hesitate to call."

Dune smirked, holding out a hand.

 "Same goes for us. Friends in arms, right?"

One by one, they clasped hands in agreement.

 "Friends in arms? That sounds suspiciously wholesome for us. I was thinking more like ‘drinking buddies with tendency for shooting.’"

Dune laughed. 

"I can live with that, Mia."

They split the gears evenly, each taking their share. The once ragtag group of misfits and warriors began to part ways, but not before a round of firm handshakes, teasing remarks, and promises to keep in touch.

As Reed hefted his share of the gears over his shoulder, he glanced back at Dune. 

"Take care of yourself, boss. And, uh, I still would like to go out with you some time."

"No promises," Dune replied with a smile.

Mia, already walking toward her bike, called back, "Next round of drinks is on you, Reed. And don’t think I’ll forget how you were undressing Dune with your eyes the whole time during our little adventure."

Dune watched them all go, a strange warmth settling in her chest. For the first time in a long while, she felt like she had something more than just survival—she had allies, maybe even friends.

As the sun set over the scrapyard, she turned back toward her bunker, ready for whatever adventure the wasteland would throw at her next.

The End