Chapter 111: Don’t touch my Bus!

Boone already had his rifle up.

"Taking the shot."

He muttered, squeezing the trigger. A raider’s head snapped back, his body crumpling into the frost-covered ground.

"Alright."

Six muttered, cracking his knuckles.

"Have fun, but shoot to maim; leave as many alive as possible."

He stated, wanting to punish the bastards who’d touched his bus.

Without hesitation, he kicked open the side door, leaping out with his Desert Eagles in hand. Boone and Roger followed, while Rebecca provided cover fire. The raiders barely had time to react before Six was on them, shooting through frostbitten armor and bone like butter.

The rest of the crew easily incapacitated the others, all the while avoiding killing them. The battle was over in minutes, their attackers lying broken and whining in the snow.

Backing the War Bus next to them, the others loot the tied-up raider while Six kneeled down next to their leader after kicking him to get his attention.

"Hello there?"

The raider groaned, his breath coming out in shaky, white puffs against the cold air. Blood dribbled from his split lip, and one of his eyes was already swelling shut. He tried to sit up, but Six casually placed a boot on his chest, pinning him down in the freezing snow.

"W-What... fuck..."

The raider wheezed, pain clear in his voice.

"Don’t ’what’ me."

Six said with a smirk.

"You and your dumbass crew just tried to take on a rolling fortress, and now here we are."

The raider spat at him—well, tried to. It ended up as more of a dribble running down his chin. Six backhanded him hard enough to send a tooth flying into the snow.

"Now, now, none of that."

Six chided.

"That’s no way to treat the guy who’s deciding how long you get to keep your kneecaps."

Rebecca leaned over the railing of the War Bus, her rifle still warm from the fight.

"Babe, just shoot them and move on. It’s cold, and I wanna get back inside before my ass freezes off."

Six sighed dramatically.

"See, I would, but they scratched my bus."

He turned back to the raider.

"And that means you get to suffer a little."

The raider’s swollen eye widened.

"Y-you wouldn’t—"

Six grabbed a length of rope from the bus and began tying the raiders’ ankles together with his friends. Boone and Roger exchanged a look but didn’t object.

Rebecca, on the other hand, let out a chuckle.

"Ohhh, I like where this is going."

Once the raiders were secured, Six tied the rope to the back of the War Bus and dusted off his hands.

"Alright, boys and girls, let’s hit the road."

Raul, who was already in the driver’s seat, arched a brow.

"You know, I’ve seen a lot of messed-up shit in my time, boss. But this? This is new."

Six grinned.

"Gotta keep things fresh."

The War Bus rumbled forward, its massive tires crunching through the icy road, while the screams of the raiders behind it turned from frantic to agonized. The cold bit at their exposed flesh, skin peeling away as they were dragged mercilessly over the jagged asphalt. Snow mixed with streaks of red, creating a grotesque trail in the wake of the fortress-like vehicle.

Raul, unfazed, kept humming an old tune, occasionally tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. Boone, arms crossed, stared ahead out the window, his expression as unreadable as ever, while Roger let out a low chuckle.

"I’m all for freedom and rading. But I’m betting they’re regretting their life choices now."

Six leaned back in his seat, barely paying attention to the agonized wails coming from behind. Rebecca, however, had a smirk on her lips, casually reloading her pistol.

"You sure know how to throw a party."

She quipped, glancing at Six.

Rebecca then peered out the back window, a smirk still tugging at her lips.

"Damn, big guy. That one just lost a boot... and a foot."

Six simply nodded, arms crossed as he watched their punishment unfold.

"Shouldn’t have scratched my bus."

He said, as if that alone justified the horrific fate they were suffering.

Raul snorted from the driver’s seat.

"Gotta admit, boss, this is some old-world brutality right here."

"Eh, they’ll live."

Six replied nonchalantly.

"Mostly."

Eventually, frostbite did its job, turning fingers black and stiff, limbs stiffening as their bodies succumbed to shock. The War Bus hit a deep crack in the road, and with a sickening series of snaps, they lost one of their passengers entirely. What was left of him tumbled into the snowy roadside, a frozen, broken mess.

"Oops."

Raul muttered with no real concern.

"Hope that wasn’t one of the chatty ones."

Six shrugged.

"Eh, someone’ll find what’s left. Maybe put ’em to good use as coyote bait."

Roger glanced over his shoulder at the dwindling raiders, some still struggling, others having given up, limp bodies bouncing off the ice and concrete.

"You say that, but I doubt they’ll be inOne Pieceby the time we get where we’re going."

Six just smirked at the pun.

"Then let that be a warning to the next batch of idiots who think it’s smart to get in our way."

Soon, the rest of the raiders were little more than tattered, bleeding husks by the time Six had seen enough. With a flick of his wrist with hisLiberator, he cut the rope and let the last barely-alive ones slump into the snow, their shredded bodies too weak to do more than shiver.

"Think they’ll live?"

Roger asked, lighting a cigarette.

Six smirked.

"Long enough to regret every choice they ever made."

Six leaned back in his seat, satisfied.

"Alright, who’s up for some iguana-on-a-stick when we get to the next stop?"

And with that, the War Bus rolled on, the group fell into a comfortable silence, the bus continuing its unstoppable drive through the nuclear winter wasteland. Somewhere behind them, the last raider let out his last breath, a dying whimper before the Mojave swallowed him whole, and it claimed what was left of the rest.