the smuggler’s bible

White Ratchet

The convoy splits in half at a fork in the old logging road. White Ratchet takes eight crawlers and heads for the edge of the salt flats before making the turn toward the pass. Hammer Claw continues on under the trees with a mind to stop off and do some scavenging.

They plan to meet again in Shanktown, on the far side of the mountains.

“Keep the axles greased,” White Ratchet says in the fading light. Then the line of trucks rolls out, and instead of a lieutenant, all he’s got is a Mauser pistol in the seat beside him.