the smuggler’s bible

Hammer Claw

They keep the tanks full and the crawlers’ big hood intakes clear of leaves. They find a quiet place among the trees where a few of the boys can sit and watch the high mountain passes leading toward Shanktown.

Otherwise, they try to stay busy.

Hammer Claw gets along with some of the established players and is surprised at the smooth polish of their grifts. Soon, he’s making runs into the lowlands. It’s hardly a job at all, he figures, if a man simply has to sit behind a rumbling engine and let his gun barrels gleam in the sun.