It was surprising how much empty wasteland was out there. While our journey took us at an angle almost parallel to the city, there was no telling how far you could go before coming across anything of merit. Going out past the outskirts and not following one of the official highways was as much as a death sentence as anything. Even if you managed to skirt all the mutants, gangers, and monsters that somehow eked out an existence amongst the heated rocks, you could drive for days and not see the glimpse of the next city if you went the wrong direction.

Thankfully, we had a map. Enough fuel for the return journey and extra. Some degree of common sense between us.

The route was drab, despite the bright colors of the sun illuminating endless sandy amber rock. Partly this was because there were no windows in the back of the van, so I just rocked back and forth and tried to ignore the light coming in from the front.

Too sour and apprehensive to really enjoy anything. When we turned up to the location, we didn’t even know what to do there to retrieve the target. Was it even information? The symbol was something I recognized as ‘cache’ but I wasn’t entirely convinced I could trust that.

How easy it had been to unsettle me by shaking up the snowglobe of my past. Some slight shame graced the part of me that was just angry that this was how I was spending my day instead of relaxing with the pair seated to my left.

“Ah, shit. Pull to the side, Clara.” Roxy withdrew the binoculars from her eyes.

“What can you see?”

Bringing up my own map finally, it looked like we were almost there.

“There’s like buildings? An outpost or something?” Roxy turned in her chair as the techie rolled the van into the shade of some large rocks nearby.

[Mutants, I assume?]

“Can’t pick out much from this distance, but it does look ramshackle.”

I exhaled. Calming almost, to know that I had a fight to roll into. An excuse to focus on some conflict rather than dig around for… hopefully something that wasn’t a high-yield explosive? That would be a rather amusing ploy by Boss, after the unimpressive assassin.

“It’ll be a distance to walk, but I don’t want the van getting much closer.” The super drew up the binoculars again and looked to our left.

[No other terrain between here and there?]

“Eh… let me get out and check.” Roxy popped the door open and with a small burst of energy, she jumped up onto the rocks we had stopped behind.

Clara turned to me. “I can sense your nerves, Gunquake. Is there anything I can do?”

[I am wary that I have just the one possible empty stims pack in at the moment, with nothing to replace it with.]

“Hmm. Have you thought about not getting injured?”

I tilted my head to the side, waiting for the punchline. Or maybe just a smile. But… none came.

“I’m being serious with you now, Gunquake. I’m sure you know that tech superheros have a shorter career than most, and end up with terrible injuries ten times as often as those with actual powers. If you keep throwing yourself into the jaws of death in the hopes that you’ll continue to get lucky… well, our budding companionship will be short-lived.”

[I would still like to have some manner of in-mission healing and power boost.]

“Then I hope your silver tongue works just as well on convincing Belle to play her part.”

[When I’m solo…]

She smiled. “Worry about that when it comes to it. If you need adrenaline shots and illegal healing juices to fight off a group of mutants, then I’ll turn this van around and leave you here amongst the filth where you belong.”

[Careful. I might prefer the tough love.]

Although her smile remained, the techie rolled her eyes, before looking off to the side as Roxy dropped back down.

Hopping back into the vehicle, the super shut the door. “Circle to the right at an angle. The terrain dips a little bit and we’ll be able to get a quarter mile closer to them and still be hidden.”

Van hummed back into life and pulled away, tyres crunching through the dry gravel.

Perhaps Clara had a point. I was certain she was just giving me a hard time because she had no better answer, and I deserved a bit of a telling off for how flagrant my dancing with death was. If I couldn’t deal with some light firearms and melee weapons without getting thrashed, then how was I supposed to go against super villains?

Despite my inhuman ability to withstand damage and heal back up, it wasn’t something I should rely on. If our super group spent half their time rescuing my bloodied corpse from the bottom of the enemy barrel, then they’d soon kick me out.

“I would have assumed it was abandoned if it wasn’t for the smoke coming from it,” Roxy mention idly. “We could be coming up to the side or back where there’s no entrance.”

[Any watchtowers?]

“One on our right side. Possibly a figure in there, but it’s shaded.”

There was a hope that given how infrequently traffic moved through the wastes, any assigned guard would not be paying attention. Maybe even asleep if we were lucky. Of course, with Roxy on my side… I needn’t worry that much when it came to combat. She’d be able to box her way through whatever resided within the walls ahead.

[Roxy, I know you could kick the outpost down like a sandcastle, but I was going to request you follow my lead on this?]

“Of course, Dubs.” She turned and gave me a smile. “This is your rodeo after all, plus I’m sure with your tactical smarts I won’t just wander into a group of foam-spewers and get stuck.”

[The idea is both of us make it through the mission receiving as little damage as possible. Even me.]

I caught Clara’s eyes go up to look at me through the rearview mirror, before she focused on the road.

The super nodded eagerly. “One of the hottest things you’ve ever said. Don’t you think so, Clara?”

“I don’t know. He’s said much hotter things to me in private.”

“Yeah, well.” She turned and scowled out of the window. “He’s my boyfriend.”

Despite our enemies being outside the jurisdiction of the city and League, I was still planning on leading with the drum-mag full of Nerve shot. Selectloader had some of the more fun shells in, but as long as the mutants fell over and stayed down, it didn’t matter what I hit them with.

I was more interested to see if Roxy would try to use her volcano powers in the heat of battle. Didn’t want to bring it up just in case it put pressure on her. While I had done my best to force it out of her with the violent training she had requested, now it was up to her to push herself. Some part of me seemed to know a lot more about powers than the conscious part of my brain did.

Know thy enemy, perhaps.

Van slid to a stop into more shade.

“Alright, kids,” Clara announced, turning so she could see us both. “Field trip starts now. I’ll be a helicopter parent with my drone to make sure you don’t get into mischief. No fatal injuries, lewd acts, or arguing with each other. Do your job and come home safe. Alright?”

Roxy rolled her eyes and stepped out of the van. I waited for a moment, her footsteps circling around to the back to let me out.

[Clara. If I cooked something for you, would you try it?]

“What?” Her brow furrowed, actual confusion on her face. “I mean… sure.” The back door popped open, spilling fresh light amongst the dark boxes and computers. “Anything for you, Gunquake.”

“Literally ten seconds, you witch.” Roxy glared at the techie as I hopped out of the van and onto the sandy rock that made up most of this area.

[You can join in too, if you’re jealous?]

“Really, Dubs?” Her scowl turned to me now. “I don’t know what you’re even implying, but my answer is fifty-fifty between begrudgingly accepting, or punting your head half a mile back towards home.”

[I like those odds.]

She growled and pushed me away so she could close the van doors. “I’d threaten you with sleeping on the couch, but that would still be an upgrade from your dirty fuckin’ hovel you’re used to.”

[Hey.]

“Nuh-uh. Don’t you try to smooth talk your way out of this.”

[Thank you for doing this with me, Roxy.]

I placed my hand on her arm, and she pursed her lips together. Some annoyance still in her inferno-esque eyes, but I could see her defenses crumbling away by the second.

“Asshole. Fuck you.” Her hand came up to rub along my covered cheek. “Let’s go kill some mother fuckers and get your shiny whatever it is.”

[Does this count as a date?]

She rolled her eyes, but the smile came out. “Who knows? Let’s ask our chaperone.”

//Clara: Yes, this is a date.

//Clara: I will record everything to relive every sweet moment.

//Clara: Maybe make a montage to play at your wedding.

“Clara!” The super flexed and clenched her hands, thankfully avoiding the instinct to punch the van to get the techie to be quiet.

[Alright, enough fun. Mission time is now. I will follow your lead to the wall Rockslide.]

After a brief second where she considered telling me where I could shove my orders, she gave me a stoic nod. The plan all along was to guide the super group into being a better team. While Roxy was still the leader, for now, I was calling the shots. Something in her wanted to rebel at first, but it only took a handful of seconds for all of us to get on the same page.

She moved off in a jog, and I followed behind her. Might seem rude to use her as a shield, but she was much hardier than I. A sniper shot wouldn’t take her out - especially with the low tech the wasteland was full of. We left the shade of the rock outcropping and the bright sunlight washed through, immediately bathing us in constant heat. I was glad Clara brought a spare canister for the ride home.

Was no real cover on our approach. It was just a near sprint straight for the ramshackle walls - although as we got closer, they didn’t seem so hastily constructed. Perhaps some old world buildings that had been taken over? The graffiti and weathering certainly left it with the appearance it was run down… but to believe it abandoned would be a dangerous thought.

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

//Clara: I fiddled with your goggles slightly, Gunquake.

//Clara: You should be able to see through smoke to some degree.

The drone hovered behind us, keeping a distance so that the noise didn’t draw any attention. I gave her a signal with my left hand to acknowledge what she had said.

Roxy slid to a stop just ahead of me and held her arm out.

“There are mines,” she hissed. Finger went out just ahead to a circular disk barely peaking out of the sand, metal and a weathered red hue to some manner of design on it.

Some chance they were inert, but it would be painful to find out. Given how close she was, it was unlikely they were proximity based. Biting her lip, she looked between the unknown device, the swathe of land around us, and the walled outpost ahead. My eyes were narrowed up at the watchtower. Roofed, and too shaded to see if there was anyone in there. She had been correct about there being smoke - two or three thin wavy clouds emerged from within the walls to fade away against the blue sky.

Campfires or similar, was my guess.

Still a few hundred feet from the outpost itself, we were sitting ducks out here. Roxy moved, circling around the space where the mine was half-buried. I followed suit once she didn’t explode, and wondered if she could survive it.

//Clara: Changing to metal detection mode.

//Clara: One of the few benefits of this version of the drone.

//Dubs: Convenient.

//Clara: What’s the point of higher degrees of technology if not for convenience?

//Clara: The scanner is rather slow, but you’ll be able to walk through without taking risk.

//Roxy: k

An overlay pinged through in my lense. Something similar to our security sensors back home, I had a bird’s-eye view of two dots representing myself and the super, while red circles appeared above us where the drone picked up potential mines. Not great, but better than having my legs blown off. Wasn’t sure I was ready for leg cybernetics quite yet.

Two more mines did show up, as we snuck and slalomed across the dry dirt. Eyes toward the outpost that was gradually getting closer. A smell struck my nose. Something boiling, like they were curing leather. Not an appetizing thought, given the situation.

A shot rang out, and we stopped.

Spotted by the watchtower. I ducked down into a crouch, but Roxy stood still, unmoving.

[We need to get to the wall, now.]

The super turned slightly now, to regard me. Blood ran down her outfit as she had been struck by the collarbone. A small wound and not very deep. The look in her eyes told me that she didn’t view the severity any less.

“Right you are, Dubs.” She turned back and sprinted, her feet kicking up sand behind her.

Could practically hear Clara swearing from here as the super eschewed any patience in waiting for the metal-scan to come through. Wouldn’t be long before there was a second shot, or the mutants circled around their base or appeared at any battlements they’d set up. I was keen not to take the second bullet - one mistake, and that would be a rather anticlimactic end to my story.

Still, Roxy had made good distance, and we were almost there. With a growl, her footwork sped up and then she lashed out with a kick. A deep gray object burst from the ground and spun away from her, striking the wall and exploding with a flash of light. Obscuring cloud of smoke from the impact kept us vaguely out of sight from the sniper.

[Take the sniper, throw me in.]

She turned to me as I caught up and gave me a quick nod. Briefly I was in her arms, before the air whipped against me as she twisted and threw me. Thankfully, not at her full angered strength, but enough to breach the top of the wall. Left hand pulled at a grenade as I had a brief opportunity to survey the interior before having to act.

A rough circle filled with crudely patched-up houses and other buildings. The skulls on spikes were enough of a clue that these weren’t one of the more peaceful groups of mutants. The flayed corpses and tanning racks just added to that conclusion. Possibly fifty or more occupants, a group of a dozen or so over by the front gate on the far right. Plenty milling around in the open central part of the outpost.

I landed on the roof of one of the houses just beside the wall. The scrap metal plates groaned and buckled before I had the chance to make a move. Another rush of vertigo as they collapsed, and I dropped through into the house itself. Hit the floor and rolled. Two soft targets looking rather surprised at me interrupting their… nap. Two Nerve shots in succession had them passed out.

Could hear footsteps and shouting outside. A brief look at my first two targets and they could almost pass as humans, but had bulbous fish-like eyes and webbed duck feet. Their hastily discarded clothing looked to be made of scraps of leather, decorated in symbols painted in white.

There was a loud crash from outside. My cue to make an entrance. Pin out of the grenade as I stepped forward across the plain single-roomed house and kicked open the door.

A cloud of gray immediately burst around me, and I stepped back to the side of the doorway. Bullets peppered through the obstructing gloom and clanged around the otherwise peaceful house. Overcharge burned up and selectloader fed my wanting chamber.

Just as soon as their volley stopped, unsure if they’d hit their mark, I stepped back through.

Smoke shot straight to the forehead of the one just ahead. I could see figures as dark outlines within the smoke now. Not perfect, but good enough for me to strike them. Reflex flashed through my synapses and cooled my focus. Drum clicked around as I fired off six Nerve shots at greater speed than normally possible, dropping my assailants.

Spent cartridges clattered to the floor as I thumbed at a ten-mag to bring another Smoke shell into my selectloader. Shouting from my left, so I pulled another smoke grenade from my vest and lobbed it that way. Strode towards the confusion.

Even in the unfaltering brightness of daylight, I walked amongst the shadows.

Over to the right was the occasional sound of bending or splitting metal, followed by heavy thuds or the snap of bone. Roxy was tearing them apart, I was sure.

Smoke shot continued producing the obscuring mist that I live in, my shotgun otherwise nailing every target that my lense picked up. They were mostly unarmored, so the Nerve shots to the head or chest overloaded their brain into thinking they had taken fatal damage, and they just passed out. Briefly amusing that the super probably had more kills than me.

//Clara: Group right. Flamethrower.

I spun on my heel and dove to the floor, rolling across the hard ground as a wave of heat burst through my smoke cloud just ahead. Too far out for my lense to pick up, and my normal eyes only saw bright amber as the wide arc of the weapon swept through ahead of me.

Breeze was taking the gray away and dissipating. Selectloader put in a Rubber shot and I fired it off in the direction the fire was originating from. The cone faltered and wavered slightly, lifting up at an angle to scour the sky, before tipping straight down to the ground. As I continued to scurry away to my point of origin, a whining hiss pierced through the area - and then the weapon overloaded and exploded.

Shockwave had me stumble back as a wave of dust and heated air blew against me. Cloud of orange that quickly turned to near-black, rolling up toward the sky. My smoke almost all cleared to reveal the burning wreckage of the weapon plus the three casualties from the malfunction.

Turned just in time to avoid the stab of a jagged spear, the roar of my assailant less offensive than his body odor bursting through the maybe-human-leather outfit covering his muscled body. A mask of similar material covered most of his face, also bearing the white symbols scrawled across it - only leaving holes for his wide eyes and a mouth of sharpened teeth.

He hadn’t come alone, either. As it seemed any remaining mutants with firearms had taken to try shooting the super, a group of melee combatants was focused on taking me down. Some degree of intelligence in those tactics, I supposed.

Sparks rang from my shotgun as I deflected his attack. Fired off a blast past him to knock out one of his pals. He was quick and with a back-step, he already had the spear spinning around in a quick arc for a follow-up.

Grenade pulled from my vest flashed and popped, stunning and blinding them briefly. I was thankful for the ear defenders Clara had given me the other day. Gun-arm lashed forward to knock the first guy out before I fired another three shots into the chests of my opponents before they regained their senses.

I did it again. Flashbang and fired. Eradicating the whole group while only a slight headache of my own to show for it.

//Clara: Danger Left.

At her word, I rolled to the floor - something missing my torso but still wrapping around my leg. Electric shock pulsed through the limb, causing me to tense up. Not quite a whip - more akin to a lasso on a stick. I righted up to my free foot while my left was entangled by the mutant holding the pole. Shotgun went around to give him my thoughts on the matter, just as a second stick-whip wrapped around the weapon and pulled it to the side.

Now I was reconsidering taking that sidearm pistol. Left hand went for my knife instead, but a pulse of electricity had my leg buckling and muscles stiffening up. How rude. Reminded me of something people would use to catch stray or dangerous animals.

Perhaps rather apt.

[Three seconds to release me or you both die.]

The first ensnaring mutant grinned and shot a hungry glare toward the second on the opposite side of me - a wrinkled but surprisingly strong woman. Both clearly spending too long in the sunshine of the wastes, and were not particularly keen on listening to what I had to say.

[Three.]

Restraints on my gun-arm fell slack as the head of the woman exploded, her brain matter painting the nearby house as a handful of compressed metal bounced across the ground. Bulging eyes of the man widened further as he turned to look past me in shock.

Roxy landed beside me with a thud and grabbed him by the neck.

“Let go now.”

He squirmed, but was otherwise too dumb or taken by fear to do what she was asking.

“Now!” the super growled and her hand started to glow, suddenly bursting into a bright yellow. Mutant dropped from her grasp as her hand melted straight through his neck, liquifying skin and muscle.

She stood in surprise, looking at the damage, before she shook her hand off. The radiance quickly faded to dark, crumbling rock with a satisfying hiss, and she turned her inferno-adjacent eyes back to me.

“Shit. I didn’t mean to activate it.” Her face contorted into a grimace.

[But you controlled it and let it go with no issue?]

Roxy lifted up her hand to observe it. To my eyes, it looked as though the process had at least burned away any blood and gore it previously had on it - if the state of her left hand was anything to go by.

[Plus you only used your one hand. Not the whole package.]

“Yeah.” She raised an eyebrow and smiled at me. “A bit of a false start, but perhaps I’ll have that amount of control over time.”

I nodded and turned to observe the outpost. Some mutants had fled - the open doorway allowing a brief view of the shapes moving away into the near distance. My side of the battle had groups of unconscious figures, other than the licking flames of the exploded flamethrower and its victims. Her side had… broken and bloodied bodies.

“Yeah, my fists don’t have a safety toggle, I’m afraid.” She shrugged and winced. “Plus, I was pretty pissed that I was shot.”

I tilted my head and held her shoulder with my left hand, turning her slightly to get a good look at the wound. It had managed to pierce her super suit and break through the skin. Against a strength super and with wastelands tech, that was uncomfortably impressive.

[Deep breath please.]

She did so, and I dug my fingers into the impact place. Her brow furrowed, and jaw clenched, but after a couple of seconds of pressure, I relented.

“Asshole,” she exhaled. “Not sure that is hygienic or best practices. Still on the fence if it’s hot, but what were…” her voice trailed off as I held up the piece of shrapnel that had lodged in her.

[Not normal ammunition. I will take it home for testing.]

Wasn’t anywhere near the level of a Sanguine stake, but it had that scent to it. Could have been a lucky shot, or something designed to be armor piercing… but if it had a small nudge towards being anti-super then I wanted to know everything about it.

//Clara: I will need to test you when home as well, Rockslide.

//Clara: Ensure it wasn’t irradiated or coated in anything.

//Clara: Good idea not to share any bodily fluids with anyone until you have the all clear.

Roxy turned and stuck her middle finger up at the dragonfly drone hovering a good fifteen feet above us. Clara had some point, though - couldn’t be too careful with this sort of thing. Given the thick smell of boiling fat and charred rock in this area, I was at least thankful for my gas mask.

“Alright, Dubs. Let’s find your treasure and get out of here.”

[Treasure isn’t really the word for it… but I will be glad to be gone from here. Thank you for the assistance, by the way.]

“Don’t mention it. That’s just part of being a team, right?” She gave me a wink and grinned out at the carnage she had caused. “Your map gave you any other clues?”

I took a deep breath and tried to consider it. It was pretty basic in that it led to this specific location. Whether the mutants were here before or after it was planted was an interesting question, but I was willing to believe they had been established here a while.

Some of the buildings still had a semblance of their prior use. Others were new and built from scrap, for an odd definition of the word ‘new’, anyway.

My left hand raised, finger outstretched to a partial stone structure, weathered detailing visible in places.

“Oh.” Roxy narrowed her eyes. “That’s an old… World Government office?”

I nodded, and we set off toward it. Lack-of-tongue stuck in my lack-of-mouth. Still unsure what we could even find here. If I actually wanted to. The alternative was… to have this stuck in my mind like a hot splinter for the rest of my life, most likely.

Door opened, and we stepped into the gloomier interior. Air was thick with something they had been storing here. Even through my gas mask, my face wrinkled up at the odd sour smell.

Roxy covered her lower face and glared around at the decor just in case this was some manner of trap. Long decayed by years of heat, the building was a literal shell of its former self. Still, some design remained in the shape of the architecture, but the mutants had totally taken over. White symbols scrawled throughout the walls from shoulder height downwards until some muck from the floor dirtied the surfaces too much to be used.

Some of the interior walls had been knocked down to create a singular room, as evidenced but the jutting stubs of brickwork running across the ceiling in two long lines. Piles of debris and detritus sat in every corner, leaving the woodwork damp and soaked through, where otherwise, it should be as dry as the rest of the wastes.

I shuffled through the garbage, cautiously apprehensive.

Roxy remained near the door, hoping some of the fresher air could save her from throwing up or catching some respiratory disease.

But I persisted. Back of the room where decaying boxes had been stacked up. Looked like pieces of leather that weren’t useful for making clothing had been dumped here. Head turned to the other side, and my stomach tightened up.

A safe.

I gestured the super over and she reluctantly followed. Eyebrows raised in seeing the locked metal object. Rather than sitting in this health hazard and opening it, she tore it from the wall and took it outside - easy enough when the action brought down part of the building as well.

[I’m unsure if I was given a clue to the combination.]

The super rolled her eyes. “Thank fuck I’m good at this sort of puzzle, then.”

Her hands gripped at the back corner of the thick metal container, and with a growl, her fingers dug in. With a terrible squeal, she split the sides and pulled the back off like a can-opener. That certainly saved me a headache. She gestured for me to be the first to look at the goods.

Left hand went in and I pulled something out.

A singular item. The dark fabric of a duffle bag. Not exceptionally heavy or full of much.

Muscles tensed as I placed it on the warm ground.

We each held our breath as my gloved hand took the zip, and began opening it up.