(Continued from this thread in the United Federation forum.)



The road was dark, and the inside of the van was even darker. There was something... especially peaceful about that calm after the battle—the gentle, orange glow of the radio clock (2:35a), the quiet, commercial-free late-night radio, the hum of the engine, the whoosh of blacktop under tires... The cloudy night sky gave little light to see by, and street lights were few and far between, leaving little to disturb the occupants. The plain, white vehicle was actually mostly alone on the long, four-lane stretch of highway that composed the northwest portion of Route 99, not far west of Spring City's outskirts. The brightest thing around was a modest (see: ill-maintained) billboard advertising Zippy Rick's Pizza Emporium.

"This is it," said Rock, with the whispery rattle of a drowsy voice. "Off the road here, behind that sign."

The rental van lurched and bounced, its overtaxed suspension creaking as it steered off the shoulder and made its way down a smooth, grassy slope. If anyone was asleep, that would be the wake-up call. They soon arrived at an inconspicuous clearing behind some trees, not far from the river's edge (which is more accurately to say not far from the huge, fearsome, sheer cliff drop into the river).

The hot engine cut off, but continued to hiss and pop for a few seconds afterward. The thing had been all the way from Empire City, through Central City, across the bridge to South Island, through Gigalopolis, through Yellow Desert, through the long tunnel cut through the Marble Mountains, and finally to its resting place. In terms of long-haul drives, it wasn't an immense one, but it was hours' worth, and the tension only really eased once they got out of the UF, and away from the military that had choppers flying everywhere, searching for them.

The side door slid open; Rock stepped out, stood straight, rolled his head on his shoulders, and stretched his wide-spread hands toward the cool sky, glad to have his feet on the ground again.

"Rekk said he'd meet us here," recapped the monkey for anyone who might not have been listening during some earlier discussion. "If you guys wanna stretch your legs, or go use some bushes, or whatever... well, we'll be here for a little while."

It seemed the very second the van metaphorically went kaput, its driver did the same, flopping back on her seat like a wet noodle with her eyes rolled up and tongue lolled out the side of her mouth (even adding a quiet 'blaauh' to confirm her untimely demise). And she stayed like that for a moment. It was a far more taxing task she'd been put up to than she'd thought it'd be, but she comforted herself knowing what she did was helping.

Ace, who had stayed half-awake through sheer willpower (and for the sake of keeping his driver company), rolled over like he was already growing foliage from being stuck in his chair so long, but managed to give Caz an approving pat on the arm. "Ya did good, kid," he managed in his patented 2 AM drawl. Her response was merely to roll back and flash a quick thumbs up (still wearing her dead-face).

Soon enough, they both made it outside, but Ace was the first one to answer Sheffer's doubts. "It's cool," he answered cooly enough, still not nearly awake enough to get very into things. "Rekk was a pal of Rock's way 'fore he was a GUN agent. Ain't that right, Rock?"