Clean Island. Part II
Shaking when driving through the Wasteland is a common thing. You won’t find good shock absorbers these days. But Gurt didn’t care that he occasionally bumped his head against the low roof of the cabin. He was worried, excited and ready for feats — after all, he was traveling with the chief! Pete, seeing the enthusiasm in the fighter’s eyes, decided that he should clarify the situation to him.
— Listen up. You are riding with me because you and I will move to the island together. The rest will be waiting on the shore, got it?
— As you say! But why? Is that a really scary place? And what is this place anyway?
Pete paused, staring thoughtfully at the road ahead. Then, apparently deciding to let Gurt fully know what was going on, he began to speak: “There is nothing there that would crawl, walk or jump, if that’s what you mean. And all in all, the place is great, the landscapes there are awesome, a real still life. It’s just that we shouldn’t attract any unwanted attention.”
— So, how do we get to the island? We don’t have these flyers or whatever they’re called... Hovers, right! — Gurt once heard about miraculous devices hovering above the ground instead of driving on it.
— We don’t need them, there are remnants of a bridge from the mainland. It’s on its last legs, the heavyweights are unlikely to pass it. But we have to. We fall from the bridge - we are done, there’s only acid around, there’s no water in the lake there for a long time. But there is water on the island.
Then Gurt heard a story about a place that is most often called the Clean Island from the chief. “It’s just a little dirty around it, heh” — Pete added. He said that in this place are the ruins of a water purification plant, which was built before the cataclysm. “We’re almost the same age with this plant, sorta,” — said the chieftain with a certain pride in his voice. “A couple of years ago, the Dawn’s eggheads repaired water filters there. They planted vegetables, potatoes and such and lived almost like in the old world!’
Gurt didn’t really believe that someone could really grow potatoes. He only heard about it from the stories of old people who managed to live before the cataclysm and hadn’t perished after it. But he really didn’t want to argue with the chief, so he just continued to listen.
“They didn’t sit on all this stuff for long,” — Pete continued. — Rumors about such miracles spread quickly, and there were far too many of those who wanted to loot the place. The problem was — no one knew exactly where this island was located. And the one who spoke was, you guessed it, another four-eyed! His name’s Lloyd or something. He has some kind of beef with Dawn’s, I don’t know the whole story. But he gave away the coordinates of this place to everyone he could. Obviously, all the gangs in the area moved to force the eggheads to share, — Pete gasped. — And so did I.”
— And why did Lloyd speak? Certainly not just out of hatred, though. — Gurt dared to interrupt the chief’s story.
— I heard that he took those filters from there, while the islanders were fighting off the attacks. But I know him, he could just want to arrange a surprise for them, trust me, — Pete answered with obvious admiration in his voice. — He’s a rat!
The chief was silent for a while, clearly inspired by the heroic story he told. Gurt, too, silently looked at the road through the crack in the armor. Small vegetation began to occasionally appear around, and this could only mean one thing — the target was already close.
— And what happened to the island? Who owns it now?
— Nobody! Nobody can hold it. There’s still only one working filter left, but as soon as someone occupies the island, others immediately come, and the carnage begins. Letting someone strong to dig in there means losing a source of water for the rest of the area, you know? They go there in small groups so they won’t provoke others. We have not so many fighters to organize raids, but we need a lot of water. So everything must be done nice and clean, — Pete replied much more seriously. — The island is constantly being watched by peepers, and when they see a whole squad driving into the plant, they’ll definitely start squealing.
For the rest of the way, both the chief and Gurt were silent. Apparently, Pete was considering the details of a plan to smuggle a huge cistern of water from the island, and his chosen assistant tried to convince himself that the plan was not arrogant and insane, but genius, and that they would both definitely return to their comrades without receiving a single scratch. However, he could hardly believe it.
***
"...All right, let’s move out. Take a couple of wrenches for 12, a crowbar, a generator and a winch from the wagon and drag them into the car. I’ll brief the people so they won’t meddle, and we’ll move."
With these words Pete got out of the car and moved towards the crowd of Lunatics, gradually getting out of the armoured vehicles. Gurt brought everything that the chief listed, and decided to walk a little to stretch his stiff legs.
The gang stopped at the top of a cliff that stretched far in both directions. At the bottom of the cliff, a lake of a quite natural reddish hue for these places began — acid. In the central part of this toxic swamp, there was indeed a small patch of land that was unusually rich in greenery. Among the tall grass and bushes were several gray boxes, apparently the buildings of a water treatment plant.
The further road laid across a dilapidated bridge that led directly to the island. Now Gurt saw with his own eyes another reason why Pete didn’t want to lead the group on a raid in full force. There were bent pins of rebar sticking out of the crumbled bridge frame, and the loud creaking sound of its supports, swaying in the wind, gave no confidence that the structure could withstand even a human weight, let alone a heavy armoured car. But as long as Pete was confident that his car would pass here, Gurt was ready to try.
The fighter was well aware that the chances of returning safe and sound, and taking a full tank of water with him, were slim. But Pete’s confidence about this job gave strength to Gurt as well. In the end, they had no other choice, and he had long wanted to somehow prove himself in front of the gang. “A trip to this Clean Island should be my triumph,” — Gurt concluded mentally.
— Well, where are you? Come on, we don’t have much time, — Pete had already finished his speech to his subordinates and was now waiting for the fighter at the car. — It’s time to remind the area who the Lunatics are!
Gurt woke up from his thoughts and hurried to the armoured car. You cannot make the chief wait for too long.