Chapter Text
As Max swum in and out of consciousness he caught snippets of conversation from his kidnappers.
“-Yer an idiot, Nux.”
“Maybe, but you still gotta admit it's a fucking miracle. Hurts like a bitch though.”
“Oh man, you holding up okay?
“I'm fine Slit.”
“...Look, there's food up ahead, how abouts we stop there?”
“Aw, I didn't know you cared.”
“I don't, I'm hungry.”
A pause.
“Do you think it'll be alright? I mean, the boss'll want his delivery as soon as possible, right?”
“What the Immortan doesn't know won't kill him?”
“Don't speak like that. He gave us life.”
“And he won't want us throwing it away for nothing because we was too stupid to get you food when we needed it. C'mon, the blood bag'll last another hour in the boot just fine.”
Max was vaguely aware of the sound of the engine cutting out and a car door slamming, but only just. His eyes were fixated on a dirty brown stain just in front of his nose, smeared on the scratchy lining of the trunk. It was a blood stain, he knew, but he tried to keep his mind occupied with other things it could be, pulling his thoughts back from the edge of the abyss that they constantly seemed to walk. Perhaps it was sauce from a Chinese takeout, from an evening where the two boys had sat with their food in hand in the boot of their car and watched the empty roads and talked. Or maybe it was shoe polish. Back in Australia, he had kept spare boots in his car and a drawstring bag of shoe polish. Perhaps someone had had the same thought in this car. He still keeps boots in his car, only now it is not a case of being prepared, but a necessity of his life.
He stared at the stain. The stain stared back. Perhaps it was ice cream. He thought idly, then froze. Chocolate ice cream. Ice cream bought by a little girl and her mother on an Australian Summer day. Ice cream that fell to the sand from frightened fingers and melted into a scarlet pool, brown into red, a river of blood spilt in an act of revenge because one meddling cop just couldn't leave something alone and protect his god damn family and- No . Max took a deep breath. He couldn't let his mind go down that path. He needed to think. He needed to find a way out of this.
In the dark heat of the trunk a tiny hand stretched out and cupped Max's cheek. “ Why didn't you help us?” Whispered the voice of his daughter.
---
Out in the sun lit parking lot, Nux blinked at the sun. He blinked at the sun and he grinned at his best friend and literal partner in crime, who's own face was screwed up, jagged scars and all, against the light. Nux blinks and grins and feels completely alive. It's a lovely day.
The parking lot was concrete and grey and the scrub land ugly and parched, but he could feel the warmth of the sun on his bald head and he has a man in the trunk of his car that proves he is Good At His Job and as far as Nux is concerned it is a beautiful day to be alive.
Which is, of course, why Slit cuffs him over the back of the head. “You're thinking something sappy again, I can tell.” He tells Nux good naturedly. “Stop it.” Then he winks, and strides on ahead towards the garishly painted diner.
Nux takes a moment longer to take in his surroundings. There are four other vehicles in the parking lot- Two dull family cars, a van, and one very familiar truck.
“Oi, Slit!” Nux called. “ Aint this Furiosa's truck?”
Slit stopped in his tracks and eyed up the vehicle. The “War Rig” was well known to all the boys in their profession. Disguised as an oil truck, it held walls of freezers in its container, transporting the organs and blood from those scavenged by the boys to doctors and medical practices all over the country. Just last week Slit and Nux had loaded up the vehicle before it headed out to Texas. Slit's eyes narrowed. The number plates were different, but there was no mistaking the skeletal markings its driver had sprayed on its side. “It's the War Rig.”
Nux hummed. “What's it doing out here? I thought Furiosa was supposed to be loading it up today. She's meant to be going to Austin tomorrow, isn't she?”
Slit shrugged. “Whatever. There was probably a change of plan or something, 's not our place to say.”
Nux nodded and followed Slit into the diner where suddenly, and without warning, everything went to shit.
The bell above the diner door dinged gently into a stifling silence as Slit stood frozen in front of the dying smiles of Furiosa Imperator and the five wives of their employer.
“Oh shi-” was all he managed to say before Splendid punched him in the face. He stumbled backwards into Nux, who went tumbling back down through the door he had just entered through. The women sprinted past and Slit tried to grab at their legs but to no avail. Cursing, he rose to his feet.
“What the fuck? Who are they? What's going on?” Fumbled a confused Nux as he jogged after his friend.
“You idiot! Those are Joe's wives! Furiosa's nicked them!”
Nux considered this. “I didn't know Furiosa swung that way.” he mused to himself they ran towards the car.
Slit hit him. “No! I mean she's kidnapped them!” Then, a beat later. “You thought she was straight? Really?”
Nux revved the engine. “No! I mean, well it's none of my business really, I just never considered she was poly. I always figured she was ace.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
Nux shrugged and slumped down in his seat. “That lady we scavenged last week was talking about them before we nabbed her- remember? they're sexualiti-”
“Will you fucking drive already?! They're getting away!”
Nux cackled and jammed his foot down on the accelerator. “Wife rescue, here we go!”
---
On the War Rig Furiosa gripped the leather of her steering wheel and gritted her teeth. “Toast!” She snapped. “Do you still have that gun I gave you?”
“Yes ma'am!”
“Lean out the window and try and get a clean shot of them.” Toast nodded and clambered over The Dag, kneeling on her lap. The Dag wrapped one arm around Toast's waist but the other clasped her wrist tightly.
“Don't kill them.” She said solemnly. “We are not killers.”
Toast scoffed, but nodded, and took care to aim away from the heads of the boys. The speed of the truck ruffled her hair out from under her hairband and into her eyes, and although she had once read an entire book on marksmanship, her hands now shook with the effort of aiming. Carefully, she squeezed the trigger- and missed. The bullet sailed over the hood of the car and Toast swore in frustration.
“Careful.” The Dag warned. Behind her Cheedo whimpered and Capable offered a small smile of encouragement.
In the front seat of the cabin Splendid breathed heavily, still recovering from the sprint to the truck. Her hand rubbed absent mindedly at the unborn child in her stomach, making sure it was alright, before she realised what she was doing and stopped herself. She flinched when Toast fired her gun again. And then again.
“I can't do it!” Toast exclaimed in frustration. “I can't get a clear shot!”
“Keep. Trying.” Furiosa growled out, her foot pressing itself flat on the accelerator.
Suddenly, the engine let out a loud, spluttering sound and all six women paled.
“Shit!” Furiosa gasped.
Splendid glanced a Furiosa in horror “What's wrong, what's happening?”
“Something's up with the engine. I can probably fix it but it's possible it'll give out soon unless we get away from these guys.”
“Shit.”
“What are we going to do?”
Furiosa glared down at the wheel under her flesh hand gripped the steering wheel. She sighed, then looked up with new resolve. “We fight.”
“What?”
“We turn around while we still have the advantage and we fight them.”
Capable's eyes lit up. “This truck's a lot bigger than theirs. We could slam the breaks and they'd go crashing into us?”
Furiosa shook her head. “It's too dangerous. The impact would still hurt and its not a risk I'm willing to take with Splendid pregnant. It could rupture something.”
“Do it!” Snapped Splendid. “I don't care!”
“No. We have to hit them. It's safer. Toast, I need you to take out their tire, it'll slow them down enough for us to turn around and ram into them.”
Toast fired her gun again and whined in frustration. “I can't! I can't do it, I've never done this before.”
Furiosa sighed and turned to Splendid. “I need you to drive the truck.”
“What?” Splendid shrieked as Furiosa grabbed her soft hands under her own calloused one and placed them on the steering wheel.
She reached back with her metal arm. “Give me the gun.” And Toast handed it over without a word, settling back into her seat. Furiosa leaned out the window. Furiosa took aim. The front tire of the car burst open. As soon as she saw the car veer off course, the pale figure of the bald boy battling desperately with the wheel, Furiosa regained control of her vehicle from Splendid. Her prosthetic arm clamped down on the gear stick, while her right hand gripped the wheel and spun it as fast as it could as her feet danced with the pedals. The truck skidded down the tarmac road, its tires screaming in discontent, and suddenly she was facing down the boys.
The engine revved and picked up speed. Furiosa smiled. “Brace yourselves.” She said, three seconds before the War Rig collided with the smaller car with a sickening crunch and a wave of sparks. The War Rig carried the car with it as it accelerated, scuffing its tires on the ground and cracking the wind screen, the still conscious driver yelling as he was propelled backwards, while his passenger appeared to have been knocked out. Finally, the engine caught fire with a hiss and the boot popped open. Finally satisfied, Furiosa hit the brake but didn't cut the engine, stepping out of her door with a gun at the ready.
She approached the car cautiously, giving it as wide a birth as she dared. The driver was groaning and clutching his head, while his friend lay unconscious with his head on the dashboard. Suddenly, a growl like an animal that tapered into a whine graced her ears and, as she rounded the car, a third person came into view.
He was battered and bruised, grease covering his clothes and face, bleeding heavily from a head wound with a gag over his face, and his hands and feet were restrained behind him. As she watched, he shuffled desperately to the edge of the trunk, heaving himself out and landing on the dusty road with a thump. He was a mess.
Furiosa stepped forward but at the sound of her boot hitting the road his head turned to her and his eyes were sharp and wide with madness. She felt her heart clench in sympathy.
Having deemed the man harmless, Furiosa moved back towards the front seats of the car. The passenger was still unconscious but the driver boy was now gripping the car door shakily, attempting to pull himself out of the wreckage.
“Furiosa.” He growled. “Give- give them back.”
Furiosa could hear the sound of the wives clambering down from the truck behind her and she felt a wave of protectiveness flood her. She trained her gun on him. “They're not going back.”
The boy clutched his side and glared at her defiantly. “You disrespect the Immortan.”
Furiosa snorted, “Your Immortan's an abusive piece of shit.”
For a moment a look of hurt flashed across the boy's face as he struggled to regain his footing. “Do not speak of him like that. He gives us life, we live still because of him! He gave you a second chance and you throw it back in his face!”
Furiosa could almost admire his loyalty. Almost. Her finger caressed the trigger, ready to shoot, but a yell interrupted her. Suddenly her sides were flanked by Capable and The Dag, who placed their hands on top of hers.
“Don't kill him.” Pleaded Capable.
“He's just delusional, he's a boy. He doesn't know any better.” The Dag added.
(She ignored his offended shout of: “He's also right here!”)
Furiosa sighed heavily and rounded on the girls “Well what do you propose we do with him? Because we can't just leave him here. If we let him go he could run and tell Joe which way we've gone and everything falls apart.”
Capable considered this. “We could... take him with us?”
If Furiosa hadn't been so stressed she may have laughed but as it was she merely threw her best withering look at the girl, who pouted in response. The Dag, meanwhile, was mulling this over.
“It could work?” She offered, gaining herself her own glare from Furiosa, “I mean, the War Boys aren't evil or nothin', they've just had their heads filled with so much of Joe's crap that they don't know their arse from their elbow any more.”
Furiosa was just opening her mouth to retort when the sound of her truck's engine graced her ears. She whipped round and, to her horror, caught sight of the man from the trunk sitting at her steering wheel. She didn't know how he managed to get his feet free, nor how he found the composure to sneak past them all and onto her vehicle, but she did know that she was pissed. She stepped forward a few paces towards where the man was attempting to put her vehicle into reverse.
“Hold this.” She said, passing her gun to Toast. “Don't let the boy get away.” And with that, she broke into a sprint after her truck. As the man caught sight of her his movements became frienzied and the truck began to pick up speed as it careened backwards down the road.
Furiosa's glare caught his eye and his expression turned hunted and frighted. She chased him with a ferocity that gave him reason to look so scared.
Preoccupied by the silent, aggressive ire of the woman in persuit, the man didn't notice the sole remaining inhabitant of the truck until it was too late.
When the other women had all left, curious about the boys who had chased them, Cheedo had remained, lying still in the back seat of the cabin and thinking, uninterested in the events on the road. Now she snuck up behind the man, poised to strike like a snake. In her hand she grasped one of the thick, canvas bags that had been used to hold some of the meager possession they had grabbed as they fled that morning. At the exact moment that he caught sight of her in the rear view mirror she moved. In one fluid motion she shoved the bag over his head and grasped it tight enough that he couldn't escape and pulled on the emergency brake with her free hand. It wasn't much, and he was quickly free of the bag, but it was enough for Furiosa to catch up.
She leapt up to the door and tugged it open, dragging the man out by the gag he had yet to pull off his face. She shoved him to the ground.
He grunted and struggled to stand up, but she pushed him down. He grabbed her by her metal arm and attempted a headbutt that fell short. Still handcuffed and weakened from fatigue and blood loss, his struggles were energetic but sloppy and the ensuing fist fight was quickly won by Furiosa.
She pinned his shoulders to the ground and seated herself on his back. “Listen.” She spat, “I am not the enemy. And I get that you think this is the only option you have right now, I do, but there are five women with me who need to escape this just as much as you do and I will not let you take this from them .”
He groaned in pain and she pressed him further into the tarmac. “Do you understand?”
He grunted in a way that might have been affirmative and Furiosa decided to take what she could get.
“I'm going to get off you now.” She told him. “And if you try and do something like that again I will not hesitate to shoot you, do you understand?”
He nodded.
“Good.”
The return to where Toast, Splendid, Capable and The Dag still held the war boy hostage was easier than expected, with the man choosing not to struggle as Furiosa frogmarched him to the wreckage. She could, however, feel him tense with fear and distrust under her hand as his once prison drew closer. She felt an ounce of pity stir in her gut for this man. She had never had to deal with this part of Joe's business. The collection of “donors” had always been a job reserved for employees made loyal through the delusion that their boss had somehow saved them. Sometimes it was by giving them a better life than the one they had had before, but usually the loyalty came by finding those made vulnerable by an illness they couldn't afford to cure. Joe would find them and speak with them, detailing the help he could offer and painting himself as a God in their eyes.
Furiosa had never viewed him as anything other than human. Vile, cruel and evil-yes. But human. And susceptible to all the weaknesses that humans are.
She shoved the man down to the ground and took the gun back from Toast, pulling another one from a holster under her shirt and training on gun on each man. “Okay so now what?” she said, addressing the wives. “The easiest thing to do would be to kill at least this one,” She flicked the gun pointed at the driver boy. “But you don't want to do that, so now it's up to you.”
Splendid stepped forward to stand beside her. “We take them with us.” She said fimly. Then, quieter so only Furiosa could hear. “If they turn out to be too much trouble we'll drop them off at a city and pretend that's where we were going all along. If the boy makes it back to Joe then he'll have him looking in the wrong place. I don't think they will be much trouble though. Capable tends to be right about these things. She was right about you.”
Furiosa nodded in assent and stepped towards the two men. She knelt down next to the man on the ground and used a key on her belt to unlock one of the cuffs. “I'm sorry about this.” She murmured, “But you did just try to steal my truck.” And with that she pulled him over to where the other man stood and attached the cuff to his wrist, trapping them together. “You're both going to be coming with us.” She told them and turned to the wives. “Capable, this was your idea so you're responsible for them. Take them to the truck. Toast- have a gun. I have an engine to fix.” She tossed her second gun to Toast, who caught it with ease, and stalked back towards her truck.
The wives glanced at each other and smiled their small smiles, while Capable surveyed the two men and grinned. Their trip just got a lot more interesting.