What follows is our very first episode of...
THE ADVENTURES OF JACKAL
WASTELAND EXPLORER
The sun rose on a tiny village in the middle of the desert. Township no. 25467, in the Reclaimed Territories, although most people just called it Deep Springs Ohio. Running water, strong houses and strong people. Not a bad place to raise your kids. That is until the raiders came.
A cloud of dust grew over the horizon and the sound of sputtering engines reached the small town. The bikers pulled up to the saloon front, there must have been fifty all tell. One of them stepped off of his bike. It was an old Harley, although its exact make an model couldn't be identified due to the slapdash repairs over the years.The man who stepped off reeked of command, from the way he held himself to the large handgun on his hip. His piercing grey eyes scanned the town haughtily. With a smirk, the man started to speak.
"So I hear Deep Springs has found itself a champion!" He scoffed. The bikers hooted and jeered, revving their engines. He laughed and waved his hand, the bikers stopped.
"Let us see what down on his luck mercenary they hired to deal with The Boston Mills Boys! Come on out you jackal!" The Man smirked. No one would dare come and face him.
"I don't like your attitude Stough." A voice sauntered out of the saloon.
The Man whirled about gun drawn, looking for the offending voice. The bikers looked around dutifully.
"Who said that!? Show yourself you dog!" He shouted, his calm exterior cracked to show the rage bubbling underneath. "SHOW YOURSELF OR I WILL BURN THIS PITIFUL SLUM TO THE GROUND!"
"Now now, there is no need for that Stough. Your jackal is right here." A man walked out of the saloon. He had the scars of many battles on his face and his steely eyes could penetrate the soul of any man.
Stough holstered his gun and smoothed his hair back with one hand.
"Ahh, so your the infamous Jackal who has been doing all of these good deeds. You've been quite the thorn in my side." He said with a haughty grin. "Well its about time that thorn was pricked and the bush it was in burnt clear."
"Leave these people out of it Stough, its me you want."
"On the contrary, I want the water, and the women, and some of the men as well. Bobby is a little picky." Stough said. One of the bikers, presumably Bobby, waved. Stough grinned affably, "And we are going to take these things, which only leaves two options for you." He held up one finger "One: You step aside and let us rape, pillage and burn to our hearts content, or two:-" He put up a second finger. "- you die."
The Man started laughing. The bikers, unsure of what to do, also started to laugh halfheartedly, but they were soon silenced by a death glare from Stough. He turned back to The Man and resumed glaring.
"Whats so funny?" He snarled, all sense of smugness gone.
The Man stopped laughing. He fixed Stough with an iron glare.
"Whats funny is clearly you don't know who your dealing with."
A shot rang out, and Stough dropped to the ground. The bikers looked around and saw that it was just The Man standing there, gun drawn. The Man eyed the bikers appraisingly. They sheepishly ducked their heads from his steely glances. The Man lowered his gun.
"Go on, git out." He growled.
The bikers revved their engines as Bobby went to pick up Stough's body. Soon the bikers were off in the distance and the man breathed a sigh of relief.
"You did just fine Jim. You were like a regular Clint Eastwood." a voice came from the shadows of the nearby alley. A scrawny young man with a shock of bright red hair and green tips and bright green eyes walked out from behind a couple of crates. He was reloading a shotgun.
"I can't believe that worked Jackal. Even now after seeing it I still can't believe it. And who is Clint Eastwood?" Jim looked around toward the strangely garbed youth.
"He's a.... Nevermind." Jackal sighed. It was just simply impossible to find any culture out here in the wastes. "I'll expect to be paid tomorrow. One hundred gallons of the purest water you have."
"They won't be coming back?" Jim looked at Jackal incredulously.
"Biker gangs are a lot like snakes Jim, cut of the head and the body quickly dies. I'll be back tomorrow and I expect the stuff to be here in a neat pile." He shot a cold glance at Jim. This glance could freeze a lizard in Death Valley. Midday.
Jim shrank beneath his gaze. "Sure, whatever you say." Jackal started to walk off into the sunrise, as he happened to be camped out on the east side of town. Jim gathered up his courage and shouted "But if those bikers come back there'll be hell to pay!"
"Don't worry, there is literally no way that someone could survive being shot in the chest with this baby." He patted his gun affectionately and headed back to camp to take a well deserved nap. After all, It was far to early in the morning.
Meanwile, back at the bikers camp, Stough's eyes slowly opened...
