S.1 E.10 ~ GN (Ch. 63)

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Avgas : Aviation fuel used in spark-ignited internal-combustion engines to propel aircraft.

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Warren came from around the golf cart with two more bottles of the clear, hell-bringing liquid. She handed both glasses to the young, and last, Grady instead of the drunk idiot beside me.

"Is that gonna be far enough to clear the blast zone?" I asked, feeling Murphy rip the bottle from my grasps.

Selfish bastard.

"It'll have to be." Amelia sighed with a shrug at her shoulders.

"Well, this is vodka, not avgas. So, the mileage may vary." Warren informed us of the possibility that this may not be enough fuel.

Well, she informed us, but it didn't seem like any of us cared enough to do the mathematics. I felt my hair being patted down at the top of my head, but when I looked up nothing was there. I looked beside me only to see Murphy's back.

Did he ruffle my hair? Where's our Murphy at? The savior of humanity got off of the small cart and stumbled to the aircraft. After the two took off into the air, Warren made her way back to me.

Warren was driving us back up the hill to the reactors on the asphalt road.

"Call Doc and see how they're doing."

Nodding my head in obedience, I removed the clipped radio from my left hip and pressed the side button.

"Doc, this is (Y/N). We're going back to the plant, coming in the same way."

No response after I released the button.

I tried again, "(Y/N) to Doc."

I held my breath, awaiting his response in anticipation. What if something happened to them? What if one of the suits got ripped?

"Hello, Miss Thompson. Welcome back. Please be advised that we are now entering the reactor core on the other side of the facility."

I released the breath of carbon dioxide, finally getting to relax against the white leather cushions behind me. We were on a narrow strip of asphalt when Warren pulled off into the grass. Where is she taking us?

"Is there anything that we can do?"

"Oh, just the usual prayer. What's the status of that precious cargo? Has the mouthy package taken off, yet?"

Once Warren was out of her seat, I scooted over to the driver side, leaning against the small safety rail that was screwed to the side of it for an arm rest. I placed my feet on top of the dash of the golf cart, relaxing.

"Yeah, he's above our heads."

"Then, we'll fix our little problem and see you on the way out."

At least 10K's okay.

"Which one of you fine vehicles is our ride out of here?" Warren muttered to herself, walking towards a red Chevy truck, a dark blue Tahoe, and a red Chrysler that had been stationed behind white warehouses.

Ahh, a battery. I almost forgot that if we make it out of this mess, we'll need a transportation for the next mission we take on.

"Hello, Delta-X-Ray."

I shot my eyes down at the familiar, but scratchy, voice of Citizen Z. Yes!

"This is Delta-X-Ray, copy."

A groan that transitioned into a snarl was heard at the other side of the truck. Why can't we have one peaceful hour? Warren took a steady step back, her hands staying in front of her as the undead came from around the corner.

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