*** 11 Superfreaks ***
Fucker was almost glad arcology 4 confiscated Assbasher's possessions. With the money they would have made from selling it (which would have taken ages to get done) his punks would have had to settle down for a while. It would have been too much to carry around in the desert.
In the chaos of successful strikes against local gangs, no one bat an eyes when the group returned with a slave they hadn't had before.
While Hardass showed their freshly collared Loh around the city, the others thought of the details. Who were they going to bind Loh to? They picked Fucker as well as Pyro. The slave was going to belong to the original trio in case Hardass wanted to part ways someday.
When Loh came back, he had a nipple chain connecting his rings. As to be expected from Hardass. The arcology had given them a matching white jockstrap for their newbie. Fucker didn't even bother to ask whether there was a permanent, transparent chastity cage under it.
They couldn't agree on a new name for the boy (who was technically the eldest among them) and stuck with the common, generic slave name Licker for now.
There was more naming to be done, though.
"Yo, boys," Fucker said. "If we're serious about this business and start taking missions regularly, we need a brand. We need to be an officially registered gang."
Savage asked, "How's that different from a normal gang?"
"Only one difference. We work for the law, instead of outside or against it. It's all a matter of perspective."
Their greatest deed as a unit so far was taking down Assbasher, but `Assbasher-bashers' didn't really work as a gang name. Fucker wanted their name to allude to their glorious action, though.
Pyro said they should also indicate they were still trash punks at heart, and hadn't abandoned their old ways.
So Assbasher-bashers? Basherpunks? Trashbashers? Asspunks? Asstrashers?
"Are we really assuming," Hardass said, "that we'll never outdo the Assbasher thing? Seems a bit pessimistic."
"Kay, let's just not drag `bashing' into the mix. We might have even bigger raids in the future. Hm, raids..."
The chose the name ass-raider-punks. Ass raiders, for short. This only left a symbol to be picked.
Fucker didn't have to think long. With Savage already showing three of the same signs, it made sense for the troop to adopt it as their insignia.
After the punks – no, the gang – spent a day having fun in the city and watching the captures trickle in, they registered at the arcology under their new name, to serve on official mission henceforth.
Registration came with free marking, so Fucker, Pyro, Hardass – even Pisspig and Licker – got the same stylized fist in huge black lines between their shoulder blades, the extended middle fingers poking a bit up their necks. Since official gangs were preferably to be recognizable from the front as well, they all got Savage's chest tatts, too, so there were raised middle fingers all around.
The leader of the ass raider punks returned to Sunbreaker for some milking. While on his third hour of leaking pre-cum, he was approached by a man in a lab coat he remembered from the first day at the institute.
"I heard you are a full-fledged gang now. Congrats."
"Yeah man, we're the ass raider punks now. Why, you got anything?"
"Indeed. I couldn't tell you this while my colleagues were listening in but... The guy you call cultist was my work buddy. He... wasn't the only one involved in unsavory research and... I continued in secret even when he was exposed."
"Wow. Right, I won't tell a soul. But what do you need?"
"When he ran away, he took my projects, too. Not just his own. I'm fairly sure he didn't take them south, but I can't go check without arousing suspicious."
"You need us to retrieve the stuff?"
"I need you to destroy every last shred of it. Pyro's ability is just what I was hoping to come across."
Fucker nodded. This mission sounded easy enough.
The scientist could convince the arcology admins to give the ass raider punks three bikes as a "permanent loan". This was a well appreciated gesture, but Fucker still had to blow all their remaining money on getting their two phasers fixed. (The third one wasn't in the budget, meaning both slaves were unarmed.)
The six boys drove out in pairs – Fucker & Pyro, Hardass & Pisspig, Savage & Licker.
Their target was a collapsed vault that had been declared contaminated. They'd probably face some resistance, although there was no telling what exactly waited for them.
A small collection of farms was on the way so the freshly minted gang stopped there for refreshments. Savage spent the time fucking Licker, to Pisspig's disappointment. The original slave member was used for piss target practice by numerous village boys and men once the ass raider punks had made clear where his name came from.
"You know," Pyro said, "it's a miracle we still have the original seeds for Rocket City in our bags."
"Right?" Fucker said. "With things having been so dangerous, we're lucky to get there with all cargo intact. But I'm pretty fucking sure now, that times are changing. We made the right choice to switch up our team."
Hardass nodded. "I'm lucky you guys found me. We're a fucking great gang together. Four freaks are rarely found working side by side."
Fucker cringed slightly. He hadn't told anyone but he felt he was kind of a failure as a freak. It could have been worse, but his telekinesis had saved the day, like, once or so. Compared to the others he wasn't too strong or versatile.
Even the entrance to the vault was collapsed. It took all their strength to move the rubble. Savage was naturally the most useful, but Fucker couldn't help but feel he should have contributed more himself. His powers couldn't even lift a whole rock unless it was trivially small.
The mission connected to the cultist had exposed a raw nerve for him. He had been happy not thinking about it, but he still didn't feel freakish enough to lead a gang like that.
They descended into the dungeon of half intact corridors, with the slaves waiting at the entrance to warn in case of arriving danger. Pyro lit the way. The air was stuffier than it usually was in those places. The vault had to be a big one, and most air tunnels had to have caved in.
Fucker spotted signs of habitation. A few wrappers. Standard protein bar number 4. Number 4? So the place had been deserted a while ago.
Following the least destroyed path, the gang reached a hub with ancient provisions. There was science-y equipment.
"Bingo," Fucker said.
Pyro let his flame grow. "I'll just take care of it then."
"Wait," Fucker said. "I want to have a look. Hey, there are notes, too. This writing looks familiar. It's definitely our power-worshiping friend with his cult."
His eyes fell on the document title and he was instantly intrigued. It was too good to be true, wasn't it?
They dragged their findings outside to take a closer look at it in the light of the evening sun. Fucker and Pyro pored over the notes.
"If this is real," Pyro said, "this machine can amplify freak powers. It requires a human sacrifice though, like the other device."
Fucker spoke slowly. "Should we... Can we... use it?"
"On you?"
"Yeah. I mean, you can have it too. I think we all could, if we find... There'll be criminals we can use somewhere."
They drove back with the equipment in their bike packs. They'd hide it outside arcology 4, tell the mission giver it was destroyed, make off to Rocket City and find an opportunity. If they found suitable victims, the order was going to be Fucker, Pyro, Hardass, then Savage. The brute had no qualms about going last.
It felt like at the auction house when their plan to enslave people had almost failed. What if anyone figured out they were carrying dangerous machines?
Back at the little village between the vault and the arcology, the boys arrive to see a fire be put out. An entire greenhouse was destroyed as were two houses. This cut the settlement by a quarter of its buildings.
"Yo, can we help with anything?" Fucker asked as they drove into the center.
The elder overseeing the firefighting only shook his head. "We have it under control now. Usually it couldn't have gotten so bad but the raiders didn't leave before-"
"Raiders?"
"Yeah. A gang with two rows of teeth tattooed on their shoulders came through."
Fucker recalled them listed as a gang that had escaped when the tags were ruined by the EMP bomb. "The `filth sharks'. That's got to be them. Where did they go?"
The filth sharks were a five men gang, who all fit onto a buggy – a very, very crammed buggy. Catching up to them was simple since they didn't think anyone was chasing them.
Fucker needed (most of) them alive, so he stayed far enough behind not to be noticed and waited for a good opportunity. On flat terrain, the sharks moved in a straight line and Pyro could take aim at leisure.
The first hit landed, vaporizing part of the buggy's tire. The vehicle wobbled from side to side and one guy slipped off. The sharks came to a halt and the ass raider punks raced toward them.
Savage drove an arc around the fallen man to let Licker roll himself off the bike. The slave was going to tie up the confused victim.
Hardass was there first and flung himself off the bike's backseat. He knocked out one guy and the rest gave up. They certainly thought they were being taken into custody. Why would anyone chase down a gang if not for the reward?
With all five tied up and taped shut, the ass raider punks dragged them to a rock pillar so their captives wouldn't see what was going on right beside them on the other side of the stone formation.
Fucker was massively excited, but knew that the experimental tech could backfire, too. When he had gotten his freak powers, he had been sick for a day. It was probably a bad idea to do it in the middle of the desert, but he didn't want to wait and risk being found out.
Similarly to the other device, the leader was connected by a wire helmet to the box that had all other connections run up to the victim.
As soon as Pyro turned the machine on, Fucker's blood boiled. He kept the scream in because he knew it was working. The sensation he knew from getting his powers spread through him from the head down in waves.
It was over quickly but he felt as terrible afterward as during the procedure. He would probably be sick again. Should they even keep going through with the plan of taking turns now?
He didn't get to choose, it was Pyro's turn so the boy had the right to make his own decision.
Savage prepared the captive and the fire conjurer was subjected to the process.
The device didn't let them go on, apparently having broken. They decided to keep it for a while in case it fixed itself once they were out of the desert heat.
On the drive back, they had to switch drivers since neither Fucker nor Pyro would have been able to keep themselves upright. They returned to the village with their three remaining captives gagged and nude, walking ahead of the bikes.
In the settlement, the ass raider punks got to rest through the night. It was already midday when Fucker felt well enough to go on. When the archology's surface structure came into view, Fucker told them to stop. He wanted to try something.
The weird feeling in his hands made him want to throw power out at the world, viciously. He dramatically gestures and raised a rock the size of his fist.
It was something he could already do, but it felt much more responsive now, much easier to do and control as if the stone weighed a fraction of its real mass.
He tried a bigger one – one he wouldn't have been able to lift. It had to be over twice his own weight. The boy managed to hold it in the air steadily.
Full of eagerness, he telekinetically grabbed one of their captives. Yes! He could finally lift an entire person.
Gleefully grinning, Fucker told Pyro to try his power. The fire maker conjured a flame and let it grow. It was massive almost instantly, a pillar shooting up to the height of a two level building.
The others didn't want to wait. The boys checked the machine again and it responded. Hardass got to go first, then Savage, leaving one captive alive.
The gang made it back to arcology 4 and delivered the last filth shark member, making sure he got his prisoner ID without getting to talk to anyone. The reward for a single guy was small but still worth it.
To the Sunbreaker person who had contracted them, they showed only a tiny piece of the machine as proof. The rest they had gotten rid of.
On the next day, the ass raider punks continued on their trip to Rocket City. They didn't want to stay in the arcology for a simple reason. Someone could have recognized Savage and asked questions.
The brute had been altered by the device. Overnight he had grown in strength but also in mass. He had to relearn how to walk with his veiny, firm legs blown up and his torso overloaded by muscles like only a decade older strength freaks normally showed.
Hardass could go invisible in any light now, although pure sunlight still left him as a slight distortion.
They were a gang of super freaks.
Tune in next time. You know you want to.