Rowdy Dead Productions

By David C. Daoust

 

Charles the First did not wait a second longer than he had to. He had already braved the desert once, he wanted to get back out there. Fact was, the sheriff got shot. This threw Charles, through and through, and a put a big old break on his formulating plans. He should have never let the sheriff return to town without his brother. He should have jumped out of the damn speeder. Highjacked it! Anything. He should have done a dozen different things, all of which continually ran through his brain as he waited. Thanks to the gunman he could no longer protest to the man in charge– and the deputies, well, they were running around like chickens with their heads cut-off. No one knew what to do, he was sure of it.

Charles was not alone in his concern; his brother was not the only one missing. Not the only First Wave to disappear into the desert. Farrah Blue, Harper’s mother, was pushing for someone to do something as well.

No sooner had he given his statement of the shooting, than he and his grandfather were released from custody. They loaded up the Rover— told the whole crew what they were doing. Left only his father- Raymond, his father’s childhood friend- JJ, and Sadie Blue behind, as the rest charged back out into the desert to try and find the missing First Wave kids and the missing Rover.

All the while those left behind set up a net across the entire globe, First Wave all checking in at intervals, all to help and find them…

That was days ago, they were not having much luck.

High above, Charles the first could be found seated in his Skyscreamer; a small vehicle popular with the First Wave youth. It held a modified land speeder engine under its carapace. Honestly, little more than a chair strapped to the front of said engine. The alterations allowed it to ignore any kind of regulations. The only drawback, besides being illegal throughout most of the Onion— the engine produced a characteristic ‘scream’, high pitched, that gave it its name.

“How is this not working?” the voice of Farrah piped through the comms as Charles soared through the clear blue skies. “I thought you guys hunted out here?”

“Any tracks were lost to the sands…” Charles was forced to explain, “It’s not really the same thing as hunting animals.”

“Well, you have to recognize something,” Farrah pushed. “What direction did they take?”

As long as the Skyscreamer was jetting through the skies, the scream was not really noticeable… At least, not to the pilot. Those it passed, however, would be hard-pressed to cover their ears. Charles was charging about as fast as he could, trying to scout out the area. He was not alone. Not on the comms, nor out in the skies.

“I can’t say for sure,” Charles answered honestly, much to his own chagrin, “There was a huge Drone battle taking place over head. Didn’t really give a chance to keep our bearings… They went in a completely different direction than us,” Charles explained, “and they were going pretty fast…”

He was not sure of the woman’s response, though he could tell she was not happy.

It was not lost on Charles that most First Wave vehicles usually had some form of tracking device. He was, in fact, using his now to keep track of where their Rover was in relation to him. The lost rover was not sending any kind of signal. He was tempted to remind the woman whose rover it was that was lost. He held his tongue; accusations would not help.

His attention now shifted to the tracking monitor, the scanner detected two more First Wave vehicles low to the ground. Moments later Charles spotted them parked over a cliff. At the very least it gave him an excuse to close the channel with Farrah as he tried to contact them over the comms. All to no avail.

At a loss, he dropped down out of the skies to join them. The scream of the engine ceased once he was low enough to the ground. He came up pretty quick on the pair, mostly just interested in who it may be, and what they were doing… it crossed his mind maybe they had found something.

Or so he hoped.

The vehicles were empty. Charles furrowed his brow. He was not really alarmed until the battle drone soared up from the cliff edge.

Charles eyes widened as he instinctively spun his vehicle around, all to gain some distance from the machine. He popped back up into the air with a screech, and arched around to get a batter angle on what was below. Whether or not the drone had noticed him, he could not say— he could not say how it could miss him, really, though it did not seem to react to him.

What he witnessed below, was the complete destruction of the vehicles as they were rendered bit by bit. A trio of drones scurried up from the cliff edge to help lug the parts away…

As Charles circled, he spotted movement under one of the outcroppings of rock, under the shade he found a pair of figures. A male, shirt off, strode out into the sunlight and waved him in… Charles spotted the woman straightening her clothing and fixing her hair.

Apparently, they’d decided to take a break from the search… both yet oblivious to the loss of their vehicles.