Cyberpunk: I'm Not a Scavenger - Chapter 48: The Trap (Patreon)

The wind in the Badlands was fiercer than Pantheon had expected. If he wasn't careful, he'd end up with a mouthful of sand.

He sat at the bar in the Sunset Motel, waiting for the guide Rogue had arranged. The Badlands were vast, with complicated terrain and unreliable communications. The region covered an area dozens of times larger than Night City. Without a guide, he might get lost in the desert long before he found the Wraiths.

The saloon door swung open, and a striking Latina with an equally fiery temper strode inside. She dropped into the seat beside him.

“You the King Rogue mentioned?”

Pantheon drained his glass and slowly turned toward her. A red-and-blue jacket, faded jeans, and a head full of dreadlocks. Who else could it be but Panam?

“That's me.”

Panam took one look at his cocky expression and bristled.

“Which corpo executive's spoiled brat are you? What are you doing out here eating dust? Think the Badlands are your personal backyard?”

Pantheon nodded to himself. Yes, this was exactly the attitude he'd been expecting.

“Panam Palmer, mind your language. Wouldn't want to screw up your first gig after leaving the clan, would you?”

“Fuck! That bitch Rogue told you about that? She didn't keep a damn thing to herself!”

Panam ground her teeth. Her relationship with Rogue was evidently off to a rough start.

“Whatever. Tell me how you plan to track down these Wraiths.”

“This isn't Night City. We don't have cameras on every corner. If they've gone to ground, even satellites and drones might have trouble finding them.”

Panam quickly regained her composure. Pantheon had a point. She didn't want to botch her first job either.

“Let's talk somewhere else.”

Pantheon glanced at the people around them and got up. The Sunset Motel was one of the few places to stay in the Badlands. Its bar attracted all sorts of travelers, not all of them trustworthy. If they discussed the plan here, it might reach the Wraiths before they even set out.

A faint flush crossed Panam's tan cheeks. She'd been too impatient, and she knew it.

They headed outside to her vehicle, a Thorton Mackinaw Warhorse she'd modified and tuned herself.

“Nice work on this thing. The four-wheel-drive system is excellent, and you've got the suspension dialed in just right.”

With fourteen points in Technical Ability, Pantheon could easily see the care she'd put into the vehicle. No wonder she'd been so desperate to get it back when it was stolen.

“Staying alive out here takes more work than you'd think.”

The corners of Panam's mouth lifted slightly. His praise had improved her opinion of him.

“But the scanners, control units, and data systems are a couple of generations out of date. I could dig better components out of a dumpster in Kabuki.”

“Damn it. You'd better be right.”

Panam laughed despite herself.

“So, can we finally hear this grand plan of yours?”

Pantheon called up a holographic map between them.

“The Wraiths' original camp was near the I-7 junction. Even if they've gone into hiding, they can't have moved too far away.”

“They still need food, water, and communications. They can't do without any of those.”

He looked at Panam.

“You Aldecaldos have been fighting the Wraiths for years. You must know a thing or two about how they operate.”

Panam nodded, confirming his suspicion.

“They're probably hiding somewhere in the nearby mountains. They'll have backup camps. We could start by checking those.”

“Sounds good.”

Pantheon dismissed the map.

“You take the lead. I'll follow.”

Pantheon had brought the same Thorton Mackinaw he'd driven earlier. It blended in with the vehicles commonly seen in the Badlands, drawing little attention. He'd also modified the bed behind the cab to carry a few secret weapons prepared for this reconnaissance mission.

The two trucks pulled away from the motel, one following the other, and headed deeper into the Badlands.

Not long afterward, a battered Thorton Galena Gecko rattled after them. Behind the wheel sat a skinny Wraith wearing goggles. His name was Saisel.

“Hehehe. Two idiots. Boss knew you'd walk right into this.”

The Wraiths' leader was unusually clever for one of their kind. Immediately after hijacking Night Corp's shipment, he'd ordered the gang to move camp and posted lookouts near the Sunset Motel.

Saisel had overheard Pantheon and Panam talking earlier.

“Not a bad-looking pair, either. Shame about their luck.”

He fixed his eyes on the conspicuous Warhorse ahead, a cruel smile twisting his lips, and pressed down on the accelerator. His neglected engine howled in protest as the old Gecko lurched after its prey.

Saisel had spent years roaming the borders of Night City and the Badlands. He considered himself an expert at tailing vehicles. On roads like these, he was certain he couldn't lose them.

Then the two vehicles ahead suddenly split up, heading in different directions. After a moment's thought, Saisel chose the more imposing, expensive-looking Warhorse.

The chase took them into Kings' Canyon. The road was pitted and uneven, with sheer cliffs hemming it in on both sides. Rocks occasionally tumbled down the slopes.

The Warhorse suddenly accelerated, opening a wide gap. Saisel swore and floored the gas, making the Gecko rattle violently as its worn suspension groaned.

He kept his eyes fixed on the vehicle ahead, terrified of losing such easy prey.

The two trucks entered a narrow stretch of winding canyon road.

Screeeech!

The Warhorse executed a beautiful drifting turn and disappeared around the bend. Saisel wanted to follow suit, but his car wasn't up to it.

As soon as he rounded the corner, he saw a boulder half a man's height sitting right in the middle of the road. It hadn't been there a moment ago.

“Fuck!”

Saisel's pupils shrank. He slammed his foot on the brake in terror.

Screeeeech!

The worn brake pads shrieked, and the tires carved long black tracks into the gravel. But the Gecko kept sliding until it struck the boulder with a heavy thud.

The airbag exploded into his face, leaving him dizzy and seeing stars.

“Cough, cough... I'm gonna die...”

He was still fumbling for the pistol at his waist when an enormous hand reached through the shattered window like an iron claw. It caught him by the throat and hauled him out through the narrow opening as effortlessly as plucking up a chick.

“Stop!”

Saisel struggled desperately, cutting his arms and thighs on the broken glass, but he couldn't break free of that overwhelming grip.

“Hey, I'm just an innocent passerby! Can't we talk this out?”