Mad Max Villains

Mad Max Villains

You see! There is no escape! The Humungus Rules the Wasteland!

Chapter Seventeen

Night Crawler

(Words & Music by: Tipton, Halford & Downing)

Howling winds keep screaming round
And the rain comes pouring down
Doors are locked and bolted now
As the thing crawls into town

Straight out of hell
One of a kind
Stalking his victim
Don't look behind you

Nightcrawler
Beware the beast in black
Nightcrawler
You know he's coming back

Huddled in the cellar
Fear caught in their eyes
Daring not to move or breathe
As the creature cries
Fingernails start scratching
On the outside wall
Clawing at the windows
'Come to me' it calls
Atmosphere's electric
As it now descend the stairs
~~~

"You're excelling in your training," Iason noted as he took a sip of his wine while he held the .38 Special in his free hand. "It usually takes Vashta at least two weeks to bring a new guard online. And for you, it's only been three days. This of course will impress Admiral Ramses. I would say in less than a month you will be captain of his personal guards. And that's when you'll make your move."

"Not a month," Wez grunted. "Too long."

"Sweetheart, patience is a must if we want this done properly," Iason replied.

"No," Wez growled. "Is too long. Almost three weeks since I see my Golden Youth. Take me to him. Now!"

"Honey, you know I cannot grant your request. I realize you miss your precious, sweet lover but he's my ace in the hole. If I just give you the Golden Youth, would you really stick around? I don't think so.

"You know the drill. Once business it taken care of, then you shall be reunited with your lover," Iason reassured him in a pacifying voice.

Wez snarled in disgust.

"That was quite the performance you gave, Alex," Iason noted as he took another sip from the glass. "Not only did you impress Ramses, you impressed me. You haven't lost your touch."

"Want to see him," Wez shouted as he stood and banged his fist on the desk. "Enough talk. Sick of talk. You take me to him now. Just see him. Want to make sure he okay."

"He's fine," Iason hissed as he also stood and cocked the trigger to his gun. "Now sit down."

Wez shook his head. "You not kill me. You not kill me until you have what you want."

"Don't try me, Alex," Iason warned him in a cold voice. "Let me tell you something. When I thought you fucked up that great road battle in the wasteland, I assumed you were dead and I was more than prepared to find another way to unseat Ramses. So don't think for a minute you're indispensable because you're not. I always find a way if Plan A fails."

The movement was fast. His long, thick, black lashes didn't even flicker. All he felt was two-hundred-and-fifty pounds of solid muscle connecting against his lithe form. Instinct made him squeeze the trigger but the gun fired into the air. So he tried to reach for his whip when the mighty fist slammed down on his wrist, making him drop the gun. He wasn't quick enough. One strong hand twisted his arm far behind his back and he was bent over the desk, his face pressed deep against the laminated top.

"Let me go," Iason hissed. "Don't make me give the order. Because you will never get out of here alive and neither will the Golden Youth. If you kill me, Vashta will execute your lover.

"And you will also be executed under Ramses order."

Wez grunted and Iason sucked in his breath when someone again pounded on the door. They both realized they didn't hear the first knock.

"General Manning, please reply," Rhen begged. "Is everything okay? I heard your gun fire."

Iason turn his head, glaring at Wez. "What's it going to be, big guy?"

"General Manning?" Rhen shouted. "I'm going to call for the guards."

"They are outside the reception door, you idiot," Iason snapped under his breath.

Wez snarled and let go of the minx's arm.

"I'm fine," Iason called out. "Go about your duties. Now! That's an order."

"As you wish, General Manning," Rhen said, yet his voice held a trace of hesitation.

"You idiot," Iason hissed. "Rhen's been my assistant for two seasons now. He knows me well. I do not just fire my gun for no reason since ammunition is precious. And if nothing was amiss, I would have responded on his first knock."

Now Iason winced when Wez tugged on his long, thick locks. "Let go, you buffoon," he spat out. "Your temper tantrum will get you nowhere. How many times did I tell you so when we were in prison together? Always, you let your anger goad you. Use your brain for once, fool!"

Wez turned Iason so the minx faced him. His strong hands cupped the bitch's silken face. His dark eyes stared hard into those evergreen gems. "Why you not let me see my Golden Youth? What you do to him?"

"He's fine," Iason snapped. "And put those silly suspicions from your mind. Do you really think I'm going to risk allowing you near your lover? Forget it, honey. All you need is one-tenth of a second like you proved just now. So there's no chance in hell I'm going to allow you near him."

"He always stand at window and watch for me," Wez growled. "Ever since I find where you keep him, he watch for me to walk by. He no longer at window. Three days now and no sign of him. Where is he?" he demanded as he gave the vixen a good shake.

"Well, maybe he just got tired of looking at your ugly face," Iason hissed as he tried to shrug himself out of the tight grip.

"No," Wez barked as he again gave the minx a shake. "Golden Youth loyal. He only think of me. He sit at window all day until he see me. What you do to him, bitch?"

"Nothing," he spat out.

Wez raised his arm and backhanded the minx across the face.

"You hit me again, fucker, and I will call for my guards to kill you right here," Iason spat out. "Now sit down."

"I want to see the Golden Youth," Wez shouted as he began shaking the hellcat.

"Stop it," Iason warned him.

Then the minx gasped when he felt those powerful hands encircle his throat. His eyes widened in disbelief when he realized he could not grasp at air.

"Enough," Iason managed to spit out.

Those dark eyes were no longer coherent. He knew the big buffoon was being goaded by the rage and hate. So he raised his leg and sent his knee roughly into Wez's crotch. But the kick had no effect. The big guy sucked in the pain and continued to clutch the slim neck while shaking the lithe body.

"Stop it," Iason managed to scream but his voice was a mere whisper.

Then he gasped when he felt the powerful fist strike him at full force. He stumbled but never fell over since Wez still had that powerful hand locked on his one shoulder. Before he could scream, the other hand slammed down over his mouth and he was roughly tossed on the desk.

His evergreen eyes filled with fear when he realized he was not dealing with the boy from juvenile hall. Nor was this the neanderthal he encountered in the wasteland. This was Lucifer himself who didn't possess any control - a savage barbarian without feelings, remorse, or regret, just animalistic instinct.

He tried to scream out but his words never got passed that big hand.

"Alex," Iason tried to shout but again his words were muffled.

The strong hand tore at his jacket, easily ripping the garment off of him and his coat was tossed to the floor. Then he screamed into those thick fingers when he felt the back of Wez's hand strike him across the face. He tried to buck and flail but that strong body was crushing him since the barbarian was now on the desk, those strong thighs pinning him.

Oh God, it couldn't happen like this. He refused to ever be raped again. Not since he was but a child did someone take his body and use it so brutally. Again, Iason tried to thrash, attempted to scream but his defensive stance was useless.

"No," he moaned but again his cries were muffled.

So he encircled his arms around the thick, powerful shoulders as he began kneading the hard muscles. His lips pressed against the wide palm and his tongue snaked out, gently licking the flesh. He clasped his legs around those sturdy hips and rubbed his boots along the strong thighs. He yielded his body then, gently moving his groin against Wez's crotch.

Then he heard the grunt. The attack ceased and teeth nipped at his throat.

"Yes, Alex," he moaned. "Fuck me. Please fuck me."

Iason gasped when those bold hands began roughly exploring his thighs and buttocks. Yes, this is how he always wanted it to be. This is what he longed for. He wanted to tame the sadistic barbarian in the same manner the Golden Youth did. All he longed for was Alexander Wessex, the hostile boy who was his lover in prison.

Their lips collided then, both tongues hungrily exploring and eagerly tasting. Their fingers roughly stroked one another. Iason sighed with pleasure when those thick fingers began caressing his soft flesh buried underneath his leather pants and his manhood stiffened into a hard erection.

"Oh yes," he purred.

His own hand reached for the groin strap and he eased the studded, leather material aside and he gave a gasp of pleasure when he felt his fingers encircle the thick, long, powerful shaft. "So hard," he cooed. "Oh yes, you do want me." He gripped the stiff manhood and began running his hand up the base, all the way to the tip.

"Yes," Iason softly hissed as he locked his legs tightly around the sturdy hips.

Their lips collided again as they continued to savagely explore one another's mouths, hungrily feasting on each other's wet, silken tongues.

"Golden Youth," Wez softly growled.

Iason's eyes widened then and he gasped, shrinking back against the desk.

Wez's own lids flickered. Through his rage, hate, lust and anger, he became conscious of his surroundings. He gave a grunt then as he looked into the slanting, evergreen eyes. He watched the silken tongue lick at the soft lower lip. Reality had awakened him and now he gave a growl of anger since he didn't want to be aware of what he was doing. Dammit. The temptation was so great, too great.

For the longest time they both gazed at each other, the desire flaming in their eyes.

"No," Wez growled as he slammed his fist on the desk in frustration. "Beautiful, yea you are. But will never betray my Golden Youth." He rose off the lithe body and stepped back on the floor.

"Alex," came the beseeching, soft whisper.

Wez quickly looked away. Oh God, such a war within himself. Feeling that sensually alluring body under his weight was enough to drive him insane. So bad, so damn bad he wanted to fuck the minx. And the lust firing within him rose to an insurmountable temperature because he knew the vixen wanted to lower those leather pants, spread those legs and have him fill that tight hole with his flesh.

"I never forgot about you," Iason passionately declared as he shook back his thick curls. "And if you look deep inside yourself, you know never forgot me.

"Both of us, we use our hate to hide what we truly feel! You hate me because I betrayed you. I had no choice because you did hurt me! I wanted to be more than a mount and a means of escape. And yes, I hate you for giving the Golden Youth what I always wished you would give me!"

Wez stepped back and then he slammed his fist against the brick wall, giving a grunt. "Never meant to hurt you," he growled. "Was left with no choice but to have you fuck the guard so we could get out. You know this."

"Alex." The voice was so soft, a gentle cry.

Wez quickly looked away when he saw the pain filling those evergreen eyes. Humanity. He realized at that moment every human being on this earth possessed one speck of humanity that lay hidden deep in the far corner of one's soul. All it took was the right person to coax the feeling forward. And just like the Golden Youth found that sweet spot within his own black heart, he knew he was the only man who could unearth such beauty within the minx.

He could feel his own pain rising up in him as he gazed back at those green eyes. Then he stepped forward and drew the minx against him. Yea, so tender, just like a kitten. His fingers clasped the silken, thick curls as he inhaled the sensual scent. "Cant," he whispered. "Want to but can't. Will kill Ramses for you. Give you New City. Is my gift to you, Iason. Is what I can only give you cause Golden Youth is keeper of my heart."

His lips came down on the soft, delicate mouth as he kissed the sweet nectar for the last time. The minx clung to him, seeming to beg and silently cry out for more.

Wez broke the kiss. He turned then and strode out of the room, never looking back.

*****

Vashta paced back and forth. He was at a loss. The nightmare raced through his mind, a scenario that continuously played out in his thoughts after what he witnessed three days ago.

He was walking through the door, having just arrived from the Great City and he wanted to check on the Golden Youth. The horror that greeted him, the blood splattered everywhere . . . he gasped and dropped to his knees as he took the delicate fingers into his own hand.

"What happened?"

The soft moan said, "Iason."

So betrayed. His world had crumbled as he listened to the youth try and choke out what happened. And afterwards, he raced out the door, hollering at the slave girls to get the doctor at once to attend the Golden Youth. In a fit of rage, he headed to the cellar and grabbed several rifles, along with two crossbows, two lances, ammunition and arrows. Then he made his way through the tunnel, drawing back the big door only he, Iason and Ramses knew of - a tunnel that would lead one far beyond the perimeter. He had piled all the weapons in the wasteland, burying the stolen goods in the sand. Once done, he then carted more supplies, along with food and water that he hid with the weapons. Then he headed back to the apartment to wait for Iason. And did the bitch bother to explain? Fuck no!

Again Vashta gazed at the bed where the Golden Youth lay. Iason and Wez deserved each other. That maniacal killer thought nothing of abducting a sweet boy, murdering the lad's parents and taking the delicate rose captive. As for him? He was foolish enough to love a hellcat who would no doubt spit on his grave.

Is this what he truly wanted? Did he want to remain with a vixen who only knew evil, hate and sadism? God, only an inhumane psychopath could wound such an innocent youth in the most cruelest manner.

Vashta shook his head in disgust. Neither of them belonged with those insane bastards. The youth had been raised by loving kin. And he came from a good family who perished during The Great War, a war he fought as a private in the army.

"I'm getting you out of here," Vashta whispered as he ran the wet cloth along the youth's forehead. "If you stay, he'll kill you. And I won't be able to stop him. He'll order my execution and Ramses will side with him."

"No," the youth moaned. "My master . . ."

"Please," Vashta begged. "I have no choice. If what you say is true, and I know you're not a liar, he will stop at nothing until he has the city for himself and Alex. Never will Iason allow you to live. He'll kill you. And then he'll blame me for your murder.

"You don't understand how he operates. He does not lose. He always finds a way to win."

Vashta gathered the furs around the youth and he picked up the two saddlebags and slung the baggage over his shoulder. He cradled the Golden Youth against his chest as he stood. Carefully, he edged himself to the door. There was no sign of Iason. So he made his way down the hall and drew open the door to the apartment, glancing around but all was quiet.

He started down the stairs, hurrying and not looking back as he made his way to the basement. He dug around for his keys and unlocked the bolt. Then he eased them both through the door and quietly relocked the bolt. As he steered them through the tunnel, he was careful to walk silently so his heels connecting with the concrete floor wouldn't echo off the walls.

The rats scurried about and the smell was nauseating, a blending of fecal, urine and rancid water. The tunnel was damp and he used the cement wall to guide them. His clothing, hair and skin became wet from the humidity that clung in the air.

After twenty minutes of walking, he came upon the ladder. "We're almost there," he whispered.

He slung the Golden Youth over his shoulder as he began climbing. Finally, he reached the top and he moved the manhole cover to the side. All he could hear was the howling of the wind. Such blackness. The sky was like an onyx veil. Now he grasped for his goggles since the wind whipped the sand about and the small grains stung at his eyes. Then he set down the saddlebags and rested the youth on the ground.

The big vehicle was covered with a tarp and he eased himself out of the hole and moved the lid back in its place. Then he began tossing the rocks aside and the wind easily blew the tarp off the sand runner. He picked up the Golden Youth and set the lad in the vehicle. With the saddlebags in hand, he climbed up into the big unit and set the baggage to the side. Then he gave the engine a start and began steering them away from the New City.

This would be difficult since he sensed a sand storm was heavily brewing. But they made it. They were home free and would soon be away from the evil that lurked in a place supposedly representing a new hope for civilization.

Vashta snorted in disgust since he thought Wez and Iason were the perfect couple to rule the city. Yeah, to ensure the eternal fires burned on, it was only appropriate Lucifer and His Minion should oversee a new hell on earth.

*****

Iason sat curled up on the circular wall of the watch tower, ignoring the strong wind that whistled fiercely, almost blowing him from his spot. He raised the wine glass and took another sip of the sweet nectar. He tried to draw on the vile, sadistic feelings that ruled him for thirty years. God, he was ready to kill Alex for drawing that deep hunger to the surface. For so long he buried all those memories, refusing to let those sweet moments rise up.

Not since he was curled up on the bunk bed in juvenile hall did he feel this kind of confusion. Instinct. For so long instinct drove him forward. And now that speckle of humanity was trying to claw its way up, attempting to overpower him.

No, he couldn't weaken now. So close. My gift to you. Alex would give him the New City that he would run with Vashta. And to be a strong leader, he had to be without weakness. Only the most ruthless, cunning, sadistic and fierce survived in this desolate world.

Then his eyes widened as he jumped off the wall and scrambled for his telescope, quickly drawing open the long barrel. Dammit, so much sand. He couldn't see anything but yet, he swore he heard the familiar engine of a sand runner. His hand grasped for the megaphone.

"To the watch tower. Now!" he screamed. "I want a count of all sand runners this minute!"

Then he hurried down the stairs just as four guards met him along the way.

"Keep a surveillance of the southeast," Iason hollered as he continued to run down the stairs. "I thought I heard a sand runner."

Just then another guard met him. "Sysop is conducting a count right now as we speak."

"Where is Lieutenant Vashta?" Iason snapped as he hurried to the area where all the vehicles were kept.

"I am not sure," the guard sputtered.

"Tell Rhen to get his ass up to my quarters and to look in my spare bedroom. Now!" Iason shrieked as he slapped the silver key into the guard's hand.

He turned on his heel as he continued to make his way to the vehicle yard.

*****

Rhen was accompanied by two guards as he left his quarters and entered the main hall.

Wez curiously stood to the side, watching the defense building spring to life as more guards scampered about, donning their uniforms since they'd been off duty.

Since he was in training, nobody approached him with orders, yet he knew something was amiss. Then his eyes widened when he heard the alarm. So familiar was the sound. The same noise had echoed through the juvenile detention facility after Iason escaped and when he held those prison guards hostage.

Now his jaw slackened as he hurried after Rhen. Three days. For three days the Golden Youth had not stood at the window.

"What are you doing?" a captain barked. "Back to your quarters. Now!"

"Orders from Lieutenant Vashta," Wez growled. "Said I am to accompany General Manning's assistant."

"Okay," the captain replied. "Hurry it up. Rhen must provide a report to General Manning at once."

They raced up the stairs after Rhen.

The boy stopped and knocked on Iason's apartment door. "Open up. Orders from General Manning himself."

A slave girl slowly drew the door open.

Rhen pushed her aside and hurried into the apartment. Wez and the captain also entered Iason's quarters. They followed the assistant down the hall and Rhen stopped at the spare bedroom. He withdrew the silver key and inserted it into the lock.

It was Wez who flung open the door.

"What are we looking for?" the captain asked.

"I cannot tell you," Rhen replied as he left the bedroom. "Is classified and I only have permission to speak with Lieutenant Vashta and General Manning about this."

Wez felt as if his heart dropped to the floor. The scent. He could smell his mate. This was the room the Golden Youth had been in. Did his lover manage to escape? Is this why the youth never stood at the window for three days? Yet, Iason said nothing was amiss. So what the hell was going on? Why sound the alarm now?

He left the room and hurried after Rhen. Already the boy had made his way down the stairs and was leaving the defense building.

Wez followed behind the assistant and captain. Both were sprinting down the road and he also ran.

The wind was so heavy and the sand nipped at his skin as he hurried to the vehicle yard. Then his jaw slackened when he watched the gate open as three sand runners and four motorcycles barreled out. He could see the minx in one of the vehicles.

"Report," Iason hollered as he gazed down at Rhen.

The assistant shook his head negatively.

The evergreen eyes widened and then the anger and hate could be seen in those black pupils. "I want that main gate open. Now!" Iason screamed. "There will be hell to pay if it's not open when we reach the perimeter."

Already a motorcycle tore off at top speed, not even bothering to keep to the road. Instead, the bike made a beeline straight to the entrance of the city.

Wez noted there was no sign of Vashta.

If the Golden Youth was not in the room and Vashta was also missing . . .

"What going on?" Wez growled as he jumped up on the ladder of the vehicle and gazed up at Iason.

"Get down, you fool," the minx hissed.

Wez snarled and he grabbed the guard who drove the sand runner and tossed the man to the ground. He climbed up and seated himself behind the wheel.

"What the hell are you doing?" Iason shrieked in disbelief.

"Your life-mate is missing. My Golden Youth not in the room where you hold him," Wez roared. "You tell me what going on. Now!"

"If I knew what the fuck was going on, I wouldn't be ready to tear off into the wasteland in the middle of a sand storm, you fool!" Iason shouted.

"Your men not know the wasteland like mine do," Wez growled. "Get my men."

"What?" Iason gasped in disbelief. "Do you take me for a fool? I will not allow civilians to aid me in a hunt for two escapees. My men will handle this. So get your ass out of this vehicle, right now! That is an order!"

"You listen to me! Is a sand storm!" Wez roared. "Tracks are already wiped out. My men know what to do. And if you want to catch them, get my men! And pack us supplies!"

*****

Iason donned his leather gloves. "I think he should remain behind," he coolly said. "He's still in training. I can attend to this matter myself. There is no need to call in outsiders to do the work I trained my guards for."

Now he nervously lit a cigarette. He couldn't let Alex accompany him. If the big buffoon did, then the neanderthal would know what he did to the Golden Youth.

"I said you are to take the new guard and the men he requested," Ramses replied in his deep voice. "He will not fail. And he knows the wasteland since he lived in that hellhole for over fourteen years. Furthermore, Lieutenant Vashta knows our procedures and he will be able to anticipate your every move. With the new guard and those six civilians who were a part of his unit, they will use a different plan to capture the lieutenant.

"And I want him alive. I will personally oversee his execution since I plan on hanging him myself. And I want the sand runner back in one piece. As for that prisoner you held in your quarters, do whatever you wish - rape him, kill him . . . I really don't care. I just want Lieutenant Vashta.

"It is imperative I make an example out of him so all guards and citizens understand what happens when one of my most trusted crosses me."

Iason turned on his heel and stormed out of the leader's quarters. No panic. Remain calm. Use your brains and wiles. Okay, Alex and those six buffoons would be accompanying him. And before they caught up to Vashta and the Golden Youth, he had to make this work in his favor. Somehow he must make Alex believe those two ran off together and betrayed them both.

Yes, since when did he ever fail? And didn't he say if Plan A failed, then use Plan B? All would not be lost.

*****

Wez packed the rest of his gear. Then he turned and slammed his fist into the wall. Why? Why would the Golden Youth flee with Vashta of all people? Three days. For three days the youth had not kept a vigil at the window. Had his mate been passing the time with Vashta all along?

Now he shuddered when he recalled his own temptation in the minx's office. Did the Golden Youth not resist temptation? Did his lover spread those legs for Vashta?

Oh God, his rage was so strong he thought he'd explode. If that bastard dared to touch the Golden Youth . . . As for the youth, if that bitch parted those thighs for the big brunette . . . Dammit, he refused to conjure up such an image in his mind!

Like hell he'd follow Admiral Ramses orders. He would kill Vashta and then beat his Golden Youth. And finally everything was working in his favor since he'd be far from the New City with his six warriors accompanying him.

Next Page - Chapter Eighteen

Note: "Mad Max" is a trademark and copyright of Kennedy-Miller Entertainment/Warner Bros. George Miller, Byron Kennedy and Terry Hayes (Kennedy Miller Entertainment/ Warner Bros.) hold copyright to the Mad Max Trilogy.
This story is created for fan fiction purposes only. Some dialogue was taken from the script to keep this tale true to the original movie.

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