Rodeo loves a good pick-up. If he has to ride in a cage, it'd better be the biggest and gas-hungriest cage around. His favorite truck in the Park is his old Power Wagon, the one he rode back from Tennessee in, the same one he fixed up when he was still only a teenager back in Montgomery. But when his crew brings him a new truck, there's no denying that each holds a special place in his heart. The more beat-up the better-- that way he won't mind it one bit when the gas rips at the paint and the zombies smear themselves on the glass and bullets bury themselves in the metal. Let the trucks look like war machines, tear 'em up and leave 'em battle scarred. Some of them look a damn sight better that way.
So when the capped truck pulls in through the gates, Rodeo takes notice of it. He shifts, standing up fully from his place bent over his Harley, scrubbing blood off his grips. He tosses the rag he'd been using over the bucket of water on the ground and then heads towards the truck near the entrance, wiping his hands on his jeans.
He sees Teagan getting out as he approaches, and he grins to himself, not surprised. She never disappoints. The other fools, they bring him back rusted out tool kits and piece of shit sedans half the time. Teagan wouldn't waste her time with shit like that.
As Rodeo nears the truck, he suddenly realizes Teagan isn't alone. There's an unfamiliar man with her, a man who looks like he's been given a hearty helping of Teagan's particular brand of charm. The guy's irritation looks pretty intimidating on him, but Rodeo isn't about to let him know that. He stops, tapping the side of the truck with his fist a few times as he looks back and forth between Teagan and Marcus.
"They keepin' fellas in the storage hangars now? 'Cause Mama Volka didn't clear that one with me," Rodeo says, by way of asking how the guy wound up in his camp.