Deadwastes

“There’s a lot of us here.” Erin said, walking with Mason through the snow-covered airfield. “We came here slowly, one by one, wandering through the tunnels after the big freeze. Anybody down there eventually made their way here.” she told him, and led him into a large building that had been used to load cargo and bags onto the planes.

She walked to a pair of doors, encased in a large metal block rising in the middle of the room, and pushed them open. Coming up behind her, Mason peeked over her shoulder, and saw a set of stairs curving downwards to the left, into darkness.

“Down there?” he asked. She nodded, and glanced back at him. She looked him up and down, then nodded, almost imperceptibly, to herself.

"Don’t tell them about your little… skill. A lot of people have pretty bad memories of you.” she warned him, and turned back around, walking down the stairway.

“I still don’t know what you mean.” he said, following her down.

She shook her head. “Look, man, there is no way in hell you’re not him. The electricity coming out of you is kind of a dead giveaway.” she said.

Mason swallowed an argument that had started to build in his mind. He realized it would be pointless to even try.

They made their way down the stairs, each step slick with ice. He had to concentrate to keep his balance, and his leg had started to hurt again. Trying to distract himself, he started to ask Erin questions.

“So… uh… what exactly did you see me do?” he asked. He figured that was vague enough.

She stopped for a second, tilting her head, then kept moving. “Not much, to be completely honest. Before the big freeze, I was really into camping and being outdoors. I never really watched TV or stayed on the internet. But…” she said, trailing off.

“But what?” he asked, curious.

“Well, I’m pretty sure everyone saw you destroy the Golden Gate Bridge.” she said casually.

He stopped. She turned and looked at him, confused. “What?” she asked.

“I destroyed the Golden Gate Bridge?” he questioned, a tone of alarm in his voice.
In the darkness, he made out her figure, staring at him. He could easily imagine the looks of incredulousness on both of their faces.

“You’re telling me you don’t remember destroying that thing? You hit it with so many lightning bolts that all the wires snapped and it fell into the ocean. Though, it was evacuated, I think. You and that fire guy were fighting, right?” she said, and started to walk again.

"Fire guy?" he thought to himself.

“Anyways, that was what, six years ago? You seem to have changed enough by this point.” she said.
Mason’s mind reeled. He had no idea what to make of what he’d been told. He followed her, but his mind was in another place, thinking about himself and the voice.

“You should keep that mask on. Don’t want someone to recognize you.” she told him. He figured it would be wise to do what she said, and slid it back over his face.

They stopped at the bottom of the stairs at another set of doors. She pushed them open and walked into a large, brightly lit room. It was made of concrete, with electrical lights that somehow still worked hanging all around. Conveyor belts, long since ruined, crisscrossed up and down the area, and he saw people laying on them, sitting on them, talking. Ropes and makeshift bridges adorned the entire area, connecting everything, and it reminded him of what he imagined some forest village would be like.

At the bottom, a few large tents were set up. There was a group of people in front of the biggest one, a faded green military tent, and they all seemed to be talking to one person.

Getting closer, Mason watched them, feeling nervous. He didn’t want anyone to see his face, and there were at least forty, fifty people here. On one hand, he was happy to see so many other human beings, but on the other, he was afraid of being exposed.

“-don’t have the supplies for that. We have our own people to worry about, you know.” one of them, an older, bespectacled man said to the singular person in front of him.

The man he was talking to was small and wiry, wearing a heavy blue coat and a strange metal shoulderpad on his arm. He was arguing with the older man.

“Really? You seem pretty well off here. Locke isn’t going to be happy if he doesn’t get his quota, and you know how he gets.” he said, in an almost pleading tone. The man with the glasses looked at him with a mixture of disgust and annoyance.

“I don’t care how Locke gets. He can go freeze to death for all I care, he’s not taking any more of our food. Now get out.” he told the smaller man, and pointed at a large gate on the far right side of the room. Another person hit a button, and it opened with a loud grinding noise.

“I’ll tell him, but he’s not going to like it. You’ll hear from us again.” the man said, his voice now laced with a threatening edge, and walked out into the tunnels.

Mason elbowed Erin lightly, then pointed. “Why didn’t we just go through there?” he asked as the gate slowly slammed shut.

She coughed lightly, and said in a quiet voice, “I took a wrong turn, and we got kind of lost.” sounding embarrassed. He rolled his eyes underneath his goggles. Maybe she wasn’t as confident as she appeared.

The glasses man turned and stared at the closed gate for a moment, shaking his head slowly. Erin stepped up behind him and whispered something in his ear, and he turned around, looking at Mason.

“Another survivor? Well, that’s great, but Erin, you know we have too few supplies as it is.” he said to her. She whispered something else. He let out a sigh, then walked over to Mason.

“Your name’s Mason, right?” he asked. Mason nodded.

“I’m Jackson. Alright, fine. You can stay with us for a while, but you’re gonna need to pull your own weight around here. We don’t have the supplies to let any able-bodied person slack around. Erin tells me something happened to your face? A burn, right?” he asked.

Mason tilted his head and looked at Erin, standing behind Jackson. She shrugged weakly. He sighed and nodded at Jackson, who was staring off into the distance. Mason coughed loudly to get his attention, and he snapped back to reality.

“Sorry.” he said, then held out his hand expectantly. “I’m going to need to take your extra supplies.” he told him. Mason moved back half a step and put a protective hand over his bag.

“Look, if you’re part of the group, you share with the group. Don’t worry, we’re going to divide this evenly among everyone.” he told him. Mason groaned, but handed over his bag. Jackson took it, and shook everything out onto the ground. The rest of Mason’s cans of food and water bottles fell out, along with his flashlight and the flare he’d forgotten he had.

Jackson picked up everything that wasn’t edible and put it back into the bag, then put two fingers to his mouth and whistled loudly. A young man with hair pulled back into a tail came up and took the food, then went into a black tent, guarded by two people with assault rifles, and came out with nothing.

“We have two meals a day. No lunches and no snacks. We need to conserve everything we can.” Jackson told him.

“So now what?” Mason asked. Jackson him over closely, his eyes stopping at Mason’s right leg.

“That doesn’t look too good.” he said, noticing how Mason was leaning to his left side.

“It’s fine.” Mason said. It hurt a little, but not enough to stop him from doing anything.

“If it starts bothering you, go talk to Maria over there. She can help, used to be a doctor before the freeze.” Jackson told him, and pointed at a middle-aged woman talking to someone else on one of the conveyor belts.

She looked down at them and waved, a tired smile on her face. For a moment, Mason was surprised to realize that it was an actual, happy smile. He’d been starting to forget that those could exist.

“Oh, Jackson?” Erin piped up from behind. Jackson turned around and looked at her.

She laughed awkwardly. “I kinda broke the truck.” she said quickly. He stared at her for a moment.

“Are you serious?” he asked finally. She gave him a slow, wary nod. “How the hell did that happen?
Didn’t I tell you to keep it in the tunnels?” he questioned, his volume rising.

“It’s not like I did it on purpose! These stupid rock things came after me and one shot the engine with these weird red crystals!” she said, her voice rising too.

Jackson sat down for a moment, his face in his hands. Then he looked back up at Erin. “Can it be fixed?” he asked.

She gave it some thought. “Well, we’d need to get some parts, but the damage wasn’t that bad, so… Maybe?” she said to him.

“Do you know what it needs?” he asked her.

She shrugged slightly. “More or less. But it’s a lot. And it’ll be hard to get it.” she told him.

“That’s our only vehicle left. We need it fixed as soon as possible…” he said, and put his hand on his chin, thinking.

He let out a long sigh. “Alright. Take this new guy and go get some parts. And try not to get attacked again, please?” he pleaded.

She gave a confident nod. “Don’t worry, we’ll be back before sundown. Probably.” she said, somewhat reassuringly. Jackson was about to wave them off, before he took another look at Mason and stopped them.

He stood up and pointed at a blue tent. “You don’t have a weapon, do you? Go get one.” he said.
Mason held up his hands. “No, that’s alright. I-” he said, but was elbowed sharply by Erin. He let out a small gasp of pain, eliciting a raised eyebrow from Jackson, but he quickly recovered.

Glowering under his goggles, he spoke up again. “I’ll take one, thank you.” he said, and elbowed Erin right back. She barely moved, letting out a small, derisive chuckle. Mason shook his head and walked into the tent.

An older man with a cigarette was leaning against a post, wearing a threadbare green jacket and a pair of ski goggles on his head. A dull electric lamp flickered on a small stand next to him, barely providing enough light to see.

“Whaddya need?” he asked gruffly. Mason took a cautious step forward, feeling
awkward.

“Uh, I was told I needed to get a weapon.” he said. The man nodded and waved his hand around.

“Long as you can use it you can have it. We found it’s easier not to fight for these.” he told Mason, who had started to look around.

There were guns lying around on tables, some boxes of ammunition underneath. Shotguns, pistols, rifles, Mason even saw a sniper rifle nestled in the corner of the tent. There were a lot of other things though; machetes, axes, and other miscellaneous hand weapons.

The man chuckled. “Yeah, it’s a lot. A few of us found an old army cargo plane that had crashed, and managed to grab a lot of these guns out of it. As for everything else, well, it just kinda built up over time. We’re pretty damn lucky.” he said, then took a long puff of his cigarette, letting the smoke out with a dry laugh.

Mason saw a small pistol that looked like it had little kick, and he nervously reached out a hand to grab it. His eyes widened as he saw a small spark of electricity come out from his hand, curling around his fingers and vanishing in the blink of an eye.

“No guns. I like this one right here…” the voice whispered once again.

His hand moved unwillingly down, towards a box full of melee weapons. He reached inside and pulled out a small, simple leather scabbard. Standing up, he drew out a gleaming blade, about three feet long, and simple in it’s design. He swung it around with motions that felt alien, but somehow natural at the same time.

“This will work.”

With that, the voice vanished.

He stared at the sword in his hand, sweat dripping off his face. The old man coughed and spoke up.

“We got that from an old museum a while ago. You can just keep it, I guess. I honestly don’t know why you’d want it anyways.” he told him, the stench of smoke from his breath making Mason’s nose crinkle. The man tossed him a strange looking belt. “Use that to tie it around yourself. Oh, and I’m Garrett, by the way.” he told him.

Mason looked at him, then back at the sword. His palms were cold and clammy. He glanced back at the guns, then shook his head furiously, trying to clear it. He didn’t want the voice to come back again, so he just swallowed his ever-diminishing sense of pride and walked out with the weapon. He awkwardly put the sword inside its scabbard, then fumbled with the with the belt for good while, eventually managing to get the sword into a position where it didn’t swing around aimlessly.

Erin had been watching him with silent amusement the entire time. When he was finally finished, she took out a black cord. With a click, she snapped it onto her shotgun, and swung it over her back. She looked at him, then at his hip, then back at him. She raised an eyebrow.

“What’s the point?” she asked him, quietly.

He looked at her for a moment, but decided that it would be better to remain silent.

“Whatever, man. You do you.” she said, and walked off. Mason took a deep, shuddering breath, and followed her, hoping that the voice would vanish once and for all.

She raised an arm and waved at a bored-looking girl sitting by the controls for the gate. She looked at them balefully, her dull brown eyes glaring at them.

“Adrianne, open the gate.” Erin asked, an oddly forced cheerfulness in her voice.

Rolling her eyes, Adrianne did as she was asked. The gates opened again, a loud beeping noise rolling through the large room.

They walked forward, into the dark tunnels, side by side. Erin turned around and waved cheerfully at Adrianne, who looked at them for a moment, shook her head, then stood up and walked away.

The gates closed, leaving an eerie silence in the place of the clamor from moments before. They stood alone in a desolate looking tunnel, a slight breeze adding to the sudden cold. Mason only now realized just how warm that room had felt. He wondered why. He reached into his now incredibly light bag and pulled out the flashlight, turning it on. Erin pulled a small black one out from a pouch on her side and did the same, and together they both could light up the majority of the tunnel.

He spoke up to Erin, who was staring down the tunnel. “So now what? Where are we going to go?” he asked.

She glanced at him for a second before returning her gaze to the tunnel. “There is no way we’re going to be able to fix that truck.” she told him simply.

He looked at her for a moment. “So you lied to him?” he asked, confused.

She nodded. “Yep. But I have an idea.” she said, then started to walk forward, Mason following close behind.

“And what’s that?” he asked, his boots echoing loudly in the long, dark tunnels. She kept moving, not looking at him.

“We’re gonna steal another one.” she told him. He kept following her, not wanting to be left behind, something he considered a real possibility.

“Steal one? From who? And how are there even any others?” he questioned. In fact, thinking about it, the fact that she had a truck in the first place was surprising. He just hadn’t had time to wonder about it in the heat of the moment.

“That’s why I need you.” she said, then stopped walking to turn and look at him. “We’re gonna take it from the Locksteels themselves.” she told him, then started to walk again.
Mason grabbed her shoulder, making her stop. He looked at her, and saw a glint of fear in her eyes.
He let go quickly and asked her a question, trying to ignore it.

“Can you tell me who, exactly, these Locksteel guys are?” he asked.

She pointed up, to the surface. “They run rampant up there. Any survivor they find they either recruit, kill, or tax. We’re lucky; there’s a lot of us and we’re heavily armed, so they haven’t tried much of anything. They send that guy you saw earlier, Chrome, over sometimes to try and weasel us out of some of our food and rations, but Jackson’s way too proud to let anyone take our stuff.” she told him.

She motioned for him to walk alongside her. “They’re lead by a guy named Locke. Angry dude, from what I’ve heard. They have a big compound on the far north part of town, in an old smelting factory. That’s where they get the name Locksteel from.” she said, her tall boots crunching in the light snow that had slipped down through the cracks.

Erin looked at Mason, her eyes searching. “I’ve got to wonder, how did you end up here?” she asked him. He glanced back at her, his eyes nervously shining behind his goggles. He stared back ahead, becoming silent. He had no idea how to respond.

She sighed. “Alright, whatever. I get that you might not want to talk about it.”

He coughed, then changed the subject. “Where are we going, then?” he asked her, his hands shaking.

She pointed straight ahead, then made a curving motion to the right with her hand. “I know a shortcut to their factory. They have a lot of vehicles they’ve managed to fix up over there, so we get in, snag a truck, then get out. If anybody spots us, I have my shotgun, and you have your lightning, and that little sword there. We’ll be fine.” she told him.

He stopped her again, a little more forcibly this time. “Did you stop to think that maybe they’re guarded? If they have a lot of vehicles, it’s not that far of a stretch to think that they have guns. And what if they recognize you?” he said, his voice losing it’s nervous edge and becoming serious.

She pulled away, glaring. “Stop touching me.” she told him angrily. He backed off, putting his hands in the air. She stared at him a moment longer before she started walking again.
“Of course I’ve already thought about all that. That’s why I didn’t want to do this until I saw who you were. There’s no way we couldn’t win with your powers on our side.” she told him. “And they won’t recognize me with this on.” she said, and pulled out her gas mask.

He followed her mutely, the awkward silence so pervasive that Mason felt like he was walking through a thick smoke. The sword bounced lightly against his side, constantly reminding him that he wasn’t alone in his own head. His feet kept a steady pace a few feet behind Erin, his breath fogging into his goggles.

Pulling them and the scarf down, he looked around with more clarity. This part of the tunnel was smaller and more narrow, and he could see the occasional cracks in the ceiling where white light pushed through. He sighed, letting his breath fill the air around him with vapor, then continued after Erin.

They walked on in silence, their footfalls echoing down the network of tunnels. He hoped that nothing would hear them. He wasn’t in the mood.

After roughly a half hour of walking, Erin stopped at a crossroads. She tilted her head, then moved to the right. A hole had opened up in the ceiling here, a large one where snow had fallen quite heavily through. Looking up, Mason saw that it was blizzarding again.

The flakes flew in furiously, spinning in a small vortex. They fell down to a pile that was rising from the ground. It was pretty, in its own cold manner. He lingered there, watching the snow, and after a few moments walked away towards Erin. When he came to her, she had stopped a fair ways down the right tunnel. She saw him, then pointed upwards. A hatch was set in the crumbling ceiling, old and rusted.

She walked over to the wall and pulled out a dusty ladder, setting it up underneath. When she was finished, she stood there and stared at it for a while. Mason looked at her.

“Where does that lead?” he asked. She glanced at him for a moment, then started to climb up.

“Into the underbelly of the factory that the Locksteels have taken over.” she told him as she moved up the ladder. He didn’t follow her, instead, he leaned back against a wall and just watched. She reached the top, then realized he wasn’t below her. She turned and looked at him, putting one arm up in a questioning position.

“How do you even know that?” he said. She rolled her eyes.

“Because I’ve been here before. They’ve never noticed me.” she told him.

“Why have you been here before? If these guys are as nasty as you say, that just seems stupid to me.” he said, not moving.

She stayed at the top of the ladder, her voice rising in anger. “Trust me here. I’m on your side. Whatever that side is.” she said, then trailed off, looking away.

He shook his head, realizing that this was probably a stupid idea and that it would end badly, but he was already here. Might as well go along, at least for now. Moving off the wall, he walked to the base of the ladder and looked up at her.

Dusting herself off, Erin looked back down through the grate at Mason. There was a strange, cold intensity in her gaze that reminded him of a hawk watching a mouse. He blinked, shaking himself off, then sighed and climbed up the ladder after her.

When he got up, she slowly put the hatch back, sliding it into place noiselessly. It was a small and cramped space, with pipes running down the length of a darkened shaft. Mason crouched behind Erin, neither of them able to stand up in the vent. She began to crawl forward, whispering to Mason.

“So here’s the plan. We get to their garage, sneak in, grab a truck, any truck, then we drive out of there as fast as we can. If we’re lucky, we’ll be out before they can react and follow us.” she told him, moving forward on her hands and knees.

He moved after her, his body feeling uncomfortable in the cramped vent. “How do you know all this? Seriously?” he whispered back.

She stopped and sighed. “Because I’ve stolen from these guys before, alright? That’s how I got that truck in the first place.” she said, her voice annoyed and quiet.

“How many times before?” he asked as they continued forward.

“Just the once. They aren’t very smart, though. I’m not too worried.” she assured him.

They got to a part of the vent where the small roof had been replaced by a grate, and Mason looked upwards, his neck straining.

He saw several tall man standing around in a large room with their arms crossed, facing something he couldn’t see on the left. One of them whistled loudly, then pointed.

A vicious snarling noise erupted, freezing both Mason and Erin in place. It was loud and angry, and Mason could hear underneath it the sounds of a man yelling in fear. Heavy footfalls rang out, and a sharp, bone-chilling crack. Then it was quiet once again, save for the men laughing cruelly.

“What the hell was that?” he whispered harshly at Erin as they resumed their pace.

“No idea, and I don’t particularly want to find out. These guys aren’t known for being nice.” she told him.

After a few more minutes of crawling, Erin stopped him.

“We’re here. Give me a moment.” she said, then twisted herself so that she was facing the top of the vent. Mason crawled back a bit to give her space, and watched as she grabbed a small plate that had been loosened up before. Sliding it off, she grabbed the edges and heaved herself upwards, vanishing from view.

Mason waited, nervous, until she reached a hand down through the opening and waved at him. He sighed and moved forward, accepting her help to get through the opening.

They were in another large room, the place the factory must have used for its deliveries. A large metal garage door stood at one end, and the rest of it was filled with a bunch of heavy-duty trucks and cars, some with modifications like little spikes on the tires, or a cage for the passengers to be more protected in. Dim lights hung from the ceiling, bathing the entire place in an orange glow. The cars were all rusty and old, but they looked sturdy enough.

Erin made him crouch down, hiding behind a dumpy little car that had probably never been used even before the world ended. A pair of men were standing over a large black truck on the opposite side of the room, working on something under the hood and talking quietly to each other. One had a pistol strapped to his side, and the other had a large keyring looped to his belt.

Erin looked around the room, trying to figure out a good one to take. Her eyes alighted on a medium-sized truck that had been a dark blue at one point, but a lot of the paint had chipped away. She began to move forward, but Mason grabbed her arm. She turned and looked at him, and he pointed to the man with the keys.

“That’s probably for all of the cars in here. But how do we figure that out? There are too many keys, and we still have to get them in the first place!” he whispered. She put a hand on her chin, thinking.

After a moment, she whispered a plan into Mason’s ear.

“First, I need to you… I dunno, electrify the guy with the gun. I’ll run in there after you and knock the other one out, then take his keys. That should hopefully buy us enough time to find the right one and get out.” she told him, then flashed a devious grin. “And it’ll stop the Locksteels from using the rest of the cars here, too.”

Mason looked at her. “Are you kidding me? The lightning is loud! Everyone in this entire place will hear it!” he said. She took another long look at him.

“Alright, then just try to knock him out too, I guess. But we need to get closer to them first so that he can’t pull out the gun and shoot us.” she said, then crouched down lower and started to move away from the car.

Mason started to follow after her, but his arms and legs locked up, and he suddenly felt it hard to breathe.

“You’re really that stupid? Zapping people isn’t the only thing my powers can do…” the voice mockingly told him. He turned around and held his fingers out towards a metal bar that was lying on the ground. A spark of electricity snaked forth from each of his fingertips, wrapping around the bar.

Lifting his hand up, Mason saw that he had somehow managed to lift up the bar without actually touching it. It hovered in front of him, laced with electricity. Staying low, he moved to the front of the car they were behind, then aimed the bar at the man with the pistol.

He flexed his fingers, and the bar shot off, smashing into the man’s head. He let out a moan, then toppled backwards with a loud thud. The guy with the keys gasped, then stared back at where the bar had come from.

Before he could shout, Mason flicked his hand, and the bar flew back up and smacked the other one’s head as well, knocking him out instantly. The tenseness in his body vanished, and he could move himself again.

Erin had stood up and was staring at him with a mix of fear and wonder. Mason was breathing heavily, and turned to look at her. She realized she was staring, and quickly looked away. She was scared.

Mason shook his head. He was getting more and more frustrated with whatever was living inside his head. He walked over and grabbed the keys off the unconscious man, and tossed them to Erin. She caught them, and hurriedly ran off towards the truck she’d spotted earlier.

He took a moment to catch his breath, putting his hands on his knees. After a moment, he stood up, and walked over to the bar that he’d somehow moved. He leaned down and picked it up, turning it over in his hands. It looked like a normal pipe.

Putting it back down, he thought about what had just happened. It was like… it was like magnetism. He remembered, dimly, that electricity and magnetism were somehow related to each other. Mason had never really paid too much attention in school.

He turned and walked over to Erin, who was busily trying every key on the ring to get in. She pointed to a smaller door next to where they had come out from.

“Watch that. If anybody else comes through, you need to let me know right away.” she said. He nodded, then walked over to the door. He set himself up next to it, leaning against the wall, then glanced at Erin. She was keeping her head down, refusing to look at him. He sighed. He should have expected this.

He stood there for a few minutes, holding his hands in front of him. Not for the first time, he wished that this was just some insane nightmare and that he’d wake up any moment. He shook his head slowly, then folded his arms across his chest.

A loud creak came from the truck, and Mason looked over to see that Erin had found the right key. She sat down inside for a moment, checking the vehicle, before she got out and waved him over.

When he got there, she pointed at the dusty gas meter. It was empty.

“So now what?” he asked. She looked around, surveying the area. Her eyes widened, then she walked over to a bunch of crumpling cardboard boxes in the corner, reached inside, and pulled out a rusty gas can. Lifting it up, she checked how much was inside it by shaking it. Seemingly satisfied, she shrugged, then walked back to the truck and started to put gas inside.

A loud banging noise made them both stop and turn around towards the smaller door. A guy with a set of welding goggles and tattered winter clothing had walked inside the garage and dropped the toolbox he was holding, his mouth open in surprise.

The three of them stared at each other for a second, then the man shook himself and sprinted around, back through the door.

Erin ripped out the gas can and threw it at the door, trailing gasoline the entire way.

“Get in!” she shouted at him. He walked over, waited as she unlocked the door, then hopped quickly into the passenger seat. She sat there trying to turn the truck on.

It was sputtering and making horrible noises. She kept on turning the key over and over, but it wasn’t working. Mason watched the door, and his eyes widened as he saw several armed men and women rush into the garage.

“Erin! We need to go, now!” he shouted. She looked up, staring as the Locksteels all aimed their guns at them.

She sat and thought for the briefest of moments, then grabbed Mason’s shoulder and pointed at the door.

“Shoot that gasoline!” she said quickly. He realized what she meant, then aimed his right hand at the discarded gas can. He took a deep breath, then let out a jagged arc of electricity from his fingertips.

The can burst into flames violently with a loud explosion, knocking most of the Locksteels onto the ground and forcing the rest to cover their eyes. Erin picked up a crowbar that had been sitting in the backseat and jumped out of the truck.

Mason watched as a line of fire spread from the shredded can, following the gasoline down a snakelike path. Erin hopped over it and smashed the crowbar into a set of door controls, then sprinted back over to the truck. She waited outside a moment and stomped the fire off her boots, then dove back into the driver’s seat as the garage door lifted upwards, revealing a ruined industrial complex.

She gripped the wheel tightly and slammed down hard on the gas. The truck lurched forward, slowly at first, then it sped up rapidly, and they flew out of the factory, hurtling along an old service road at breakneck speeds.

Mason closed his eyes, not wanting to see if they crashed or not, before an earsplitting boom rocked the ground beneath them. He shoved his head out the window and looked behind them. The garage had exploded, sending a massive fireball into the sky. Pieces of car and stone were hurtling upwards into the air. Erin kept her eyes locked forward, weaving the truck through the pipes and smokestacks of the factory grounds. A chainlink fence rose up before them, but Erin didn’t stop. In fact, she sped up even more.

The truck slammed through the fence, breaking it apart. They had made it into another part of the city.

Breathing heavily, Mason stared at Erin as she slowed the truck down to a much more reasonable speed. After a minute of solid driving, both of them remaining silent, Erin slowed and parked the truck in the middle of the street.

They sat there, not looking at each other. Eventually, Mason broke the silence with a dry cough, and pulled down his mask.

“You are completely insane.” he told her.
She shrugged at him. “Insanity is defined by other people. To me, that was just a nice little excursion.” she said.

He looked at her, shaking his head in disbelief. She turned, gave him a smirk, then started the truck back up again.

“Let’s hurry and get back to the airport. And try not to tell Jackson about what just happened.” she said.

He crossed his arms and sighed. Staying with this girl was probably going to kill him faster than anything else could. But he couldn’t deny the rush of adrenaline that blazing out of the garage had given him. He figured, if she could do this kind of stuff, he could do it.

Besides, he finally felt important for once in his life. He wasn’t about to waste this opportunity.