Off the Deep End

[Time left: Unknown - Location: Unknown]

The sounds of dripping water echoed in from the background, muddled in with voices groaning, chains rattling, and footsteps falling. Pops was the first to come to, his eyes opening slowly as he adjusted to the dark around him. He could feel a burn in his shoulders, and his arms were all but numb as he looked up and found himself hanging by shackled hands from a concrete ceiling. He gave a low grumble, admonishing himself for his present circumstances. As his eyes finally focused, he looked out the rusted vertical bars directly ahead of him, peering through another set of bars across the way as he saw something that nearly broke his heart; Miz was still unconscious in a cell of her own, slumped over on her knees with her hands cuffed behind her back and a collar around her neck, a heavy chain running to a fixed plate mounted against the back wall.

He looked around his own cell, finding his range of motion restricted by the cord running to his interface socket, but from what he could make out, there was nobody else in here with him. Likely they all had their own cell, and they were all bound just like Miz. His eyes shot to the front as he heard a low groan, and her head shifted as she shook herself awake, the chain rattling against the floor. He took a chance as he called out gently, "You okay, kiddo?"

"...peachy...", Miz answered as she acclimated to her surroundings, "Hey, next time I'm about to blurt out the obvious, j-just tell me to shut the fuck up..."

"Hey, shut the fuck up!", Ky called out in his usual joking manner from somewhere down the hall, causing Miz to spit as she fired back with a smile, "Hey... fuck you!"

Yeah, she's alright..., Pops thought to himself as he smirked. She looked up to her old man and joked, "Hey... at least they're nice enough to keep you off your leg."

Ky again inserted himself, "Yeah, this is some real five-star shit they got goin' on..."

From somewhere else, Billy's voice trailed in, "Shut. The. Fuck. Up... Ky!"

Panam chimed in from the opposite side, "Is he always like this?"

"He'd tell you it's part of his charm...", Pops chuckled, to which Ky answered, "Rise and shine, princess!"

They could all feel Panam's jaw clench as she barked, "I'm going to fuckin' hurt you when I get free of here..."

"Ge' in line, choomba...", Max called out, to which everyone shared a laugh as Ky called out, "Love you too, ba—"

"HEY! SHUT THE FUCK UP, ALL O' YA!", a gruff voice yelled with a heavy crash against the bars of one of the cells. As the owner of the voice stepped into view, they all caught sight of what they were dealing with; a thick-necked, veiny and vascular motherfucker built like a tank in desert-patterned Militech fatigues, carrying a heavy baton in one chromed hand, his other chromed hand holding a slung Ajax rifle across his chest in place. He had a thick beard masking his face, skin tanned and leathery, and there were bits of ink creeping up past the collar of his jacket.

Ky smiled as he stared down the guard, "Why don't ya come in here and make me...? Get a few more guys, then it'll be a fair fight."

The guard snarled as he crashed his baton against the bars again, but it had little effect on Ky, who sat there laughing at the whole affair. The rest of the crew rolled their eyes, but they had to give credit where credit was due; sometimes the class clown made for a good distraction. Pops started churning through what little options they had as he softly called out, not wanting to draw the ire of their host, "By chance does anyone have any idea jus' where the hell we are...?"

Miz shook her head as she locked eyes with Pops and shrugged her shoulders. Panam was the first to offer anything useful as she whispered, "Judging by the smell, we're in a detention center not unlike the one we broke Cass out of a while back... remember that shindig?"

Pops smiled fondly, only hoping Max held a similar sentiment as he answered, "Yeah, that was a fun li'l rowdy-dow..."

His voice carried a little too far, as the guard marched over to his cell, crashing the baton against the bars, but no words were said. They stared at one another in silence for several seconds, like two wolves sizing each other up. The guard looked like he'd pop a blood vessel at any moment, judging by the way the veins bulged from his shaven head. Pops as always maintained his calm demeanor with a hint of a cheeky smirk hidden by his wide mustache. Cops, corpos, soldiers, it didn't matter; everyone had a breaking point, and the old nomad was unusually gifted in finding it. The guard finally grunted as he turned away, marching down to the other end of the hall and taking his position. Just as soon as he had settled did Ky call out, "Hey, beefcake! Do they still castrate you gonks at boot camp? I still remember that vague empty feeling between my legs the first time I donned a flight sui—"

Everyone laughed as the guard nearly ran the length of the hall, a spew of profanity flying out of his mouth as he waved the door open before a familiar voice called him off, "You're relieved, corporal..."

The guard's jaw was clenched, and he wanted nothing more than to render Ky a bloody stain on the cell wall, but even he knew it was a bad idea to test the patience of a Colonel... and so he backed off slowly, waving the door shut as he stomped off. Ky of course had to poke the bear as he grumbled, "Ma-a-an... so close to a clean getaway. Why'd you have to go and ruin it, Mikey?!"

The guard turned back, returning before a heavy hand stopped him in his tracks. A booming laugh sounded as Farris came into view, walking the length between each of the cells as he observed all of the crew staring at him with unfettered hatred as the guard finally retreated out of sight. It nearly aroused him, the pure heat radiating off each of them at the mere sight of his face, and he ate it all up as he taunted, "I haven't felt this unwelcome since... well..."

"Since you showed up at the Afterlife...?", Billy called out. Miz could hear it in his voice, the rage seething beneath the surface. She'd only felt that presence one other time; two years ago at the Red Dirt, at the mere notion of a threat to his mother's safety. As Farris' eyes cut to the far cell, Miz sucked her teeth to grab his attention as she said, "God help you if he gets free of those shackles, choom..."

Farris' eyes narrowed as the corners of his mouth crept into a smile, "I welcome the challenge, little one... but such as it is, it's unlikely any of you will see the light of day again..."

Miz spat a wad at him through the cell bars as he continued with a light applause, "I must congratulate you all on a job well done. I admit I underestimated just how effective you would be at completing your objective..."

Pops probed little deeper as he stared the colonel down, "And just what exactly was our objective, when all's said an' done?"

Before Farris could answer, an indignant Ky yelled, "Nah man... it can't be like that! Please tell me this isn't the part where the dastardly do-no-gooder explains the convoluted bullshit plot..."

Farris chuckled as he looked back to Pops, "My oh my... that must get old after a while."

"More 'an I care to admit...", Pops reciprocated the chuckle as he directed the conversation back on track, "You knew that AI could fry us at any time. You knew walkin' in that place was a dead-end, and yet it waited 'til the absolute opportune moment to take its shot."

The smile on Farris' face widened as Pops continued, "Turnin' those contractors into wild zombies... that ain't no freak accident..."

"You're smarter than I give you credit for, Phoenix...", Farris admitted with a scoff and a shrug of his eyebrows, "It was a thing of beauty from its very inception... a programmable AI, harnessed into an adaptive neurovirus that can overwrite its victims' minds and enslave them."

Pops spat in disgust, "And Los Alamos was ground zero... never occurred to anyone it might be more 'an a bit inhumane to shred someone's mind like that?"

Farris rebuked his captive, his patience running thin, "There is little room for such trivialities in war..."

Miz took her shot from the other side, "So why bother with us? Why not just let it do its thing and leave us in the desert?"

Ky chimed in once again, "Really asking him for an excuse to zero all of us at onc—"

"Because...", Farris turned and stepped up to the cell door, his face bearing a devilish grin, his eyes flashing red, "I wanted to deal with all of you myself. You all have interfe—"

He was cut off by the sounds of distant explosions, a rumbling that shook the ceiling and walls, causing dust to fall as the dim lights flickered. As Pops swayed back and forth, being suspended several inches off the ground, he laughed at the whole affair as he locked eyes with Farris and muttered, "Knock knock, amigo..."

--

[Outside, location still unknown]

While the zoom function of even base-model Kiroshi cyberoptics made the need for binoculars somewhat redundant, that didn't stop Saul Bright from standing proudly on the edge of a sand dune as he held a heavy set to his eyes with both hands, smiling wide from ear to ear as he observed the otherwise nondescript complex in the middle of the desert getting peppered by heavy ordinance. Every blast of artillery behind him shook the very sand under his feet, reverberating down into the earth upon which he and two dozen other Aldecaldos stood.

A barking voice trailed in from behind, tail-ending orders before directing towards Saul, "Look alive, boys! Keep poundin' 'em! ...ya know, I really wish you'd have let us bring the Basilisk..."

Saul smirked as he brought the binoculars down, directing his attention to the man standing on his left, "Mitch... 's a little on the nose, don't you think? Militech tank busting into a Militech complex...?"

"Well why the fuck not?", Mitch fired back with a laugh, "We're using Militech artillery for cryin' out loud!"

The family leader shrugged his eyebrows with a nod as he gently chided his older choom, "Remember what happened the last time you tried to pilot that thing all by yourself... nearly fried your brain. You were down for a week."

Mitch looked down for a second, trying not to remember his head nearly catching fire from the overload of piloting and manning the cannons all at once during an unfortunate engagement with the Wraiths. As if they hadn't taken enough of a beating from a previous encounter, they decided to try and sack the Family's camp outside Night City in the early hours of the morning, but to ill effect. All but one of the attackers were killed in short order, the Family electing to let the lone survivor serve as an example of making better decisions going forward; still, the brief skirmish left Mitch drained, his system nearly overloaded. As he flashed back to the present, a cheeky smile crept on his face and he winked to Saul, "I still got one or two left in me..."

Saul only shook his head with a scoff as he continued observing the rain of hellfire over the complex, peeking through the binoculars one last time as he held a hand up. Within seconds, the last barrage fired, followed by a deafening silence as everyone awaited their next instruction. The complex was built like a bastion, with only one way in or out, and heavy towers posted on all four corners; at least, it was built like that. The main gates had all but crumbled into dust from the onslaught, and all four towers were now little more than piles of smoldering rubble. The inhabitants were scrambling around inside what remained of the complex's walls, and from this far away they looked like little roaches scurrying across the sand.

"So, what's the play boss? We goin' in?", Mitch asked expectantly.

Saul pursed his lips for a moment before he handed the binoculars to another person on his right, trading for a highly modified Tactician shotgun. With a trained smoothness, he cycled the pump action, checking the chamber as he turned to Mitch, "Mount up, let's get down there before they have a chance to regroup and recover."

Mitch smiled as he barked the order to the rest of the nomads lying in wait; in mere seconds, vehicles growled to life as engines turned over, bodies filling the seats and truck beds as tires peeled out and kicked up clouds of dust. Saul took his own position on the running boards of the lead truck, signaling to everyone to charge forward.

To the operators on the base, it must have have looked like the ride of the Valkyries as an entire convoy of vehicles cleared the sand dunes and rapidly closed the distance. The sounds of screaming motors and encroaching gunfire only grew louder. Anyone in their right mind that actually survived the artillery barrage would have ran for their lives, but Militech didn't look kindly on deserters. And so, the security force manning the base that had already had their shit kicked in from half a mile away readied themselves for what was to come; the day wasn't over yet...

--

"Okay, but just how the fuck does anyone know where we even are?!", Ky asked indignantly, but with his usual hint of sarcasm. As if to answer his question in the most obnoxious way possible, Panam winced with a crunch from her mouth before she spat something through the bars of the cell door. The pieces clattered as they hit the floor, prompting a chuckle from Pops as she said, "Chrome up all you want, kids, but sometimes it's just hard to beat old-world spy tech..."

To her point, they were looking at shattered pieces of a false tooth containing a blinking burst transponder, and she continued, "Even if they plug us up to disable our cyberware, or jam our comms, this is good for up to fifty kilometers... and I knew my people were close by, getting the survivors taken care of..."

Ky wasn't giving an inch, "So then what the fuck took them so long?!"

Before Panam could retort, Ky started laughing and continued, "Good lookin' out. So now it's a waiting game..."

"We'll need to find Liv, and fast...", Miz reminded them. Farris still had the bargaining chip of bargaining chips, and there was no way they'd come this far to fumble at the very end. Panam quelled their concerns as she remarked with almost prescient observation, "A facility like this, 's not likely we're the only cell block. She's here somewhere, underground..."

Billy was in an altered state over the whole affair, speaking through gritted teeth as he tried to offer up his own positive affirmation, hollow as it sounded, "Yeah, not likely she got pancaked by the blanket of hate your people just dropped on our heads..."

The nomad's eyes narrowed, wanting to fire back, but she checked herself given the present circumstances; she had to remember she wasn't only dealing with Pops' partner, but also the woman who bore Billy into the world. She hung her head as low as the chained collar would allow as she tried to genuinely reassure all of them, "We'll be okay... she'll be okay... you have my word on that."

Miz craned her neck to try and peer into Billy's cell, only able to make out part of his torso; his breathing was heavy, his muscles tensed, but she could see him trying to calm himself. Pops was another story altogether. While he had maintained his calm up until now, Miz could see the fire burning inside of him. Before her eyes, he swung himself back and forth, gaining momentum as he inhaled deep and exhaled slowly. For someone six-and-a-half feet tall, it wasn't difficult for his legs to reach the opposite ends of the relatively cramped space, and he kicked off the bars in front and the wall behind before swinging his entire torso forward and up. First attempt was a no-go, his boot slipping off the ceiling as his shoulders jerked. He grunted in frustration, swearing under his breath as he shook off the burn in his joints and started again.

"C'mon Pops, you got this...", Miz encouraged him as she smiled in watching his fervor. He was a survivor, same as she was; and he was strong as a bull. He had better luck this time around as he was able to securely plant his one good leg against the concrete ceiling. He made sure his foot was fully set as he pulled with his arms and pushed with his leg, the sweat building on his neck as his veins bulged and muscles strained. He closed his eyes and prayed for the strength he needed. In this moment, all he saw in his mind was the flashing images of Liv crying from the video feed they'd seen at the Afterlife. This was enough to drive him forward as his eyes opened, and he gave one last yell as he pulled with all his might. The ceiling strained and crumbled, and before he could brace himself, the mount holding his shackles broke free and sent him crashing down onto his back. He had the wind knocked out of him, letting loose a low groan as he gave himself a minute to recover.

Ky of course had to egg the old man on as he chuckled, "Great execution, hoss... just couldn't nail the landing though, huh?"

Pops laughed with a sigh of relief, "First thing I'm goin' to do when I get out of here is smack you, son..."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah...", Ky groaned, "Take a number. I'm good for it."

Considering Billy's temperament, everyone was surprised as he chimed in, "Pretty sure Ky can outrun you right now, old man..."

Pops forced himself up at the waist as he shook the loose bits of concrete dust and rubble and said, "Keep it up, boys... I got two ham-sized hands here, an' I'm ready to throw down."

Miz flashed her teeth, as she locked eyes with Pops. On one hand, she was proud he was able to pull through and get himself down; on the other hand, it gave her no end of amusement to watch her three favorite chooms carrying on like they were just goofing off at the lockup. Even Panam had to admire the camaraderie of it all, and she sure as shit knew something about cutting loose with the best of friends in the worst of times.

All of their eyes were drawn to the end of the hall as they heard shouts and gunfire growing closer, followed by distant crashing of heavy doors; boot steps fell in sequence, one after the other, and then finally the distinctive sound of two shotgun blasts rattling the metal door to their current abode. The hinges flew off in chunks, the door itself peppered from the shot before a heavy boot kicked it down. As the door slammed against the floor, Panam warned her roommates, "Eyes shut!"

Everybody followed suit, trying to make themselves as small as possible as a metallic clang rang out of a flash-bang hitting the floor and rolling before enveloping the entire space in a blinding flash and loud boom, followed by a deafening ring. They all considered it a minor miracle that they couldn't really hear anything as Ky's muffled voice spoke nonetheless, "Yeah... that's an unpleasant feeling..."

In a matter of seconds, the hallway filled with nomads carrying all types of weapons and equipment, but all of them were friendly faces to the crew in one way or another, and a sweeping sigh of relief washed over them all, captive and liberator alike. And then a face appeared that nobody expected, prompting Panam to muscle out to no one in particular, "Don't hold it against me for not warning you... again..."

Pops chuckled to himself as none other than Saul Bright appeared in front of his face, the cell bars being the only thing separating them. There was any one of a hundred remarks that could have been made, and Saul's face gave no tell, but he put everyone's minds at ease as he elected for the diplomatic route and said with a nod, "It's good to see you alive, old man. Let's you get you and people out of here."

Panam took her shot as she yelled out, "Them, yeah! But what about me?!"

Saul kept his eyes on Pops as he fired back with a smirk, "Still debatin' on that one, choom... I told you working with outsiders was a risky venture."

Pops' mustache flared as he couldn't help but smile; for all his differences with the man, Saul came through for his people when it mattered most. Let bygones be bygones, he was here now, and he was doing the right thing. Pops nodded as he accepted the proverbial olive branch and said, "Thanks for the help..."

The other nomads went to work with cutting torches and bolt cutters, starting at Panam's cell as they effortlessly cleared the hinges and locks before removing the door entirely. As they worked their way down, they also carefully removed everyone's collars, shackles, and chains. 'Liberating' didn't even come close, as all the crew breathed a little easier, exiting from their cells to congregate in the central hallway. Billy stepped up, towering a few inches over Saul as he smirked, "How's your jaw?"

Appropriately enough, Saul's jaw clenched as he considered a response before Pops reined them both in, "Neither time nor place, gentlemen...", and he turned to walk past Billy as he whispered with raised eyebrows, "You should know better."

Billy's head sagged just a bit, but the smirk was still there. Pops was absolutely right, but in the pup's defense, the last time he crossed paths with Saul, the nomad was carrying on about them being unwelcome in the camp, even though the love of his life was bleeding out at the time; and all because of a personal spat. Suffice to say, he wasn't going to discount Saul coming to the rescue, but he didn't have a whole hell of a lot to say to the man otherwise. Maybe after they were all safe and sound, his mother included.

As if to read Billy's mind, Pops called to Saul and asked the only question that mattered, "There's a woman in another cell block... is sh—"

Saul offered a smile as he said, "My men are seeing to her now... she's okay. You'll see her once we get above ground."

Ky accepted a rifle handed to him by one of the other nomads, racking the charging handle as he nodded and added, "Speaking of which... you guys just fought your way into a hardened facility in the middle of the fuckin' desert... now what?!"

Panam tried to stifle a laugh as she seemingly read Saul's mind, "Well, we just added five more bodies to our ranks, by the looks of it... I like our chances. Saul?"

"We'll certainly see how you all perform...", Saul joked, "I've already seen the old man in action, and bum leg aside, I doubt age has slowed 'im down."

Another nomad handed Pops a revolver, not his own, and he checked the chambers with a smile as he winked to them, "Let me show ya how it's done..."

Billy took his shot while he still had a head and fired back, "Start with showing us how you're navigating the stairs."

Pops turned with every intent to smack the shit out of his youngest crew mate, instead finding him offering an arm to help as he continued, "C'mon, I got ya."

The old man begrudgingly hoisted his arm over Billy's shoulder, and they made their way out the door as the rest of crew and their nomad escorts followed. From one hallway to another, they were met with a half-landing stairwell ascending at least a few floors up, and their escorts took point as they cleared the landings and signaled everyone else to follow. They were clean, precise, and disciplined. Has to be Mitch's boys, Pops thought to himself. Only heavily trained and heavily regimented operators moved like that, and old habits were hard to shake. It seemed as likely as anything else that Mitch would have kept the finest of their firefighters in tip-top shape; and that they'd of course accompany Saul of all people.

Despite Billy's help, Pops had a hell of time negotiating the stairs, the pain in his leg pounding with even the slightest pressure. Though he'd never admit it, it wasn't outside the realm of possibility that he'd overdone himself, as he always did, and only made his injury worse. Two steps forward, one step back; that would pretty much sum up Pops' life, so why should now be any different?

As if his leg didn't hurt enough, it only worsened as he and Billy both were shoved down a flight of stairs by one of the nomads as two grenades hit the landing. The nomad also shoved his own choom out of the way before diving on top. The first grenade appeared to have little effect, releasing a somewhat muffled blast as the body jumped a few inches; likely turning the man over would have painted a very different picture. The second grenade literally painted the walls with what remained, the nomad's body exploding into several pieces as his innards stained the entire landing deep red. Without even a second to pay respects to a fallen choom, gunfire rang out from overhead. Billy joined the other nomad as they both took position and returned fire with a slew of profanity. Saul watched in admiration as he said to Panam, "I may not like him, but I have to give credit where it's due... kid's not afraid to dive right into it with the rest of us..."

Billy flashed a smile as he continued blind-firing, "You get my mom out of here, I'll be your best fuckin' choom forever!"

Panam stifled a laugh as she patted Saul on the shoulder. Before long, the upstairs aggressors were cut down by another small group of nomads running a sweep before one of them called out, "Anyone still alive down there?"

"Yeah! Got one dead...", Panam answered, "Took a grenade for the rest of us."

The upstairs nomad took a moment, likely paying his respects before he called back, "A'right, well get up here. We drilled right through 'em to get in, but now they got us surrounded!"

Panam turned to Saul with a skeptical look, "Wha— really?!"

"I mean... we could have just leveled the place", Saul shrugged his shoulders, "Given absolutely no regard for any of you... didn't feel right."

Ky broke the tension as he stepped forward and nudged the nomad leader like an old choom, "Eh, a good dust-up is good for the soul... plus Billy an' I got a bone to pick from the last time around."

Pops pulled himself up as he smirked and nodded to Billy and Ky, "Lead the way, then..."

Saul dropped himself under Pops' arm in a rare show of affection as he whispered, "We need to talk when we get back to camp..."

"Then focus on gettin' us out of here, and nothin' else...", Pops gently chided the man, "All in due time."

Billy and Ky pressed their way to the top of the stairwell alongside one of their escorts, and were met with a hail of automatic fire as bullets peppered the door frame and walls exposing them as they tried for cover. Ky managed to get a grenade out the door without losing his arm, counting off the seconds before barging through as their assailants were showered in shrapnel and bits of whatever was caught in the grenade's path; Billy followed right behind, taking his position on the opposite side, and they both created a solid line of fire with a wide vantage of the entire open space.

As targets popped up and tried to move, they were quickly taken out, affording the rest of the team the opportunity to move from the stairwell and find cover. There were pockets of Aldecaldos everywhere in the building, each taking potshots and laying down covering fire while everyone tried slowly but surely to find the best way out. It only helped that all the Militech operators were wearing nearly identical tac gear, making them easy to pick out at a moment's notice.

From somewhere else in the building, several nomads rounded a corner with a mysterious figure wrapped in a blanket following close behind. Pops knew in his heart in that moment, it had to be Liv, and he called to them as he fired several shots and directed them over. At the sound of his yelling voice, the blanket disappeared, revealing Liv running to his position without a care in the world. She collapsed into him behind cover, wrapping herself around him for dear life as she cried out loud. Before long, Billy made his way over to them, checking on her as she turned and smiled. She had her boys back, and even now under a rain of fire, she was the happiest woman in the world. All of the nomads and the crew took over, providing cover and picking off any operators that got close; moments like these were rare, and they'd sure as shit earned it.

Miz smiled for both of her boys as she focused her fire and pushed forward. If they could just clear a path outside, it was easy enough to slip away in the chaos. But presently, all of the Militech forces were bottle-necked and flooding them from all angles. They'd soon be overrun if they didn't move.

Max allowed herself a moment to scan their surroundings, building a map in her head as she tried to find a way out of this fucking mess for them. They'd be caught in the open if they tried to get up high; they'd get picked off one by one if they tried to disperse through the warehouse space. She didn't have any visibility in going back the way they came, and nobody was trying to go back underground at this point. Ky looked to her for a split second, and she had a genuine look of worry as she shook her head. They were low on ammo, and they were surrounded. And what's worse, none of them had their usual gear. Miz was convinced if she'd had her blades, she could tear through the warehouse on her own without breaking a sweat. But it couldn't lend like this... they'd come so far.

As if someone in the great beyond heard their cries, a reinforced nomad truck crashed through the side wall of the building, continuing its trek as it tore through the inside space. It was just enough of a distraction, and the escorts took the opportunity to give the crew the cover they needed to make a clean break.

And they certainly didn't waste the chance. Billy nearly pulled Pops off his feet all by himself as they ran for the exit. Miz caught up, covering Liv as they followed close behind. Max and Ky helped cover the rear, giving Panam and Saul some time to make a run for it. And then one after one, each of the nomad escorts peeled off the line, running as fast as they could while the rest kept pounding.

In under a minute flat, the entire party had found their way outside, the sun beaming down on them in the middle of the sand. It took a few seconds for the crew's eyes to adjust, but they could all breathe easier in the open air of the desert. All except for Pops, who was met with a coughing fit forcing him to double over. Billy tried to give a helping hand as he patted the old cowboy's back, but his eyes went wide when the coughs finally subsided and he saw spits of blood in the sand... it was getting worse.

Pops tried to shake it off as he kicked some loose sand over the red stains, but everyone had seen it, and everyone's hearts broke in that moment for him. As he stood tall with a wince of pain in his face, he turned to one of the escorts and asked nonchalantly, "You got a spare canister...?"

The escort stepped up next to Pops, pulling an airhypo free from his belt and handing it over. As before at the factory, Pops shook the canister vigorously before jamming it directly into his thigh. As the pain subsided and he sighed with relief, he had a moment of clarity, his eyes locked on the one thing he wanted more than anything in the world right now. Even with Liv holding onto him, speaking words of comfort and affection, his eyes wouldn't break from Farris no more than fifty feet away, scrambling to get to his personal vehicle with two operators following close behind. It was the opportunity of a lifetime, and he wouldn't let it go to waste. He quickly called Miz to him, wrapping his arm around her as he held both of his girls tight and whispered, "I love you both more than life itself... to the moon and back..."

He could feel Miz trembling, though it seemed Liv hadn't caught on yet as he broke his hold and stepped past both of them. Panam watched him march, not even registering a limp at this point, and she called out, confused and with tears in her eyes, "Phoenix! What the fuck are you doing?!"

"Get my people to safety!", Pops called back without breaking his stride. He pulled the unfamiliar revolver from his belt as he muttered to himself, "This ends now..."

Miz's eyes opened wide as she tried to follow, but Billy held her back. It took every bit of strength he had as she fought against him like a woman possessed, but he knew somewhere in his mind this is what Pops wanted, and he wasn't going to fail the only father he'd ever known. He could feel every muscle in her body quaking with fear and frustration. She just wanted their family to be whole again, for however much time was left. She just wanted peace.

Pops had something else in mind altogether as he closed the distance between himself and Farris. He could feel the stiffness in his leg, but he wasn't about to let it stop him as he continued his march and took aim with the revolver. A single shot fired, tagging the first guard and shattering the rear windshield; a second shot ruined the driver side mirror and separated the second guard's arm at the shoulder. A third attempted shot clicked empty, and Pops groaned with disappointment as Farris was already facing him down, ready to stand his ground.

The old man considered his options, twirling the revolver into a reverse grip as he traversed the final few steps. Farris took his open shot as he growled, "Fine... let's end this...", and followed with a wild haymaker. Pops broke the strike with ease, crashing the butt of the revolver's handle against Farris' exposed jawline. He dropped the iron, grabbing Farris by the collar as he landed hit after hit against the man's face.

From where the rest of the crew were standing, there were no gunshots or explosions anymore. In this moment there was only the sounds of Pops' heavy fist breaking against Farris' face, and the torrent of profanity following every strike. Through it all, they could barely make out, "TOO... MANY... TIMES... HAVE... YOU... FUCKED... WITH... MY... FAMILY!!!"

One of the nomad escorts keeping watch caught sight of something up high, but it was already too late as he screamed, "Shit, Phoenix get down!!!"

A single high-powered shot rang out, ripping through flesh as soon as their ears even registered the sound. Pops cried out with a stunted yell, his breathing uneven as the rifle round tore through his chest and lodged itself into the vehicle. Time seemed to stop, an echoing scream erupting in the background as Miz cried out. Her voice was overpowered by a second shot tearing through Pops' good leg, bringing him to his knees as he collapsed in the sand. Miz fought with every fiber of her being to break loose as Billy held on as tight as he could. Her screams pierced his very soul, shaking his foundations as he tried to hold himself together for her sake

A third shot tore through Pops' shoulder as he wavered on his knees, his eyes staring blankly into the distance; past Farris, past the walls, past the dunes. He was staring somewhere far beyond time and space, and something out there was staring back. The look on his face was almost as if it all made sense. His purpose, his very being, everyone's entire existence and their reason for existing; every bit of it was clear to him now as a white light washed over him.

Farris, bloodied and bruised as he was, saw his opportunity, and the look on his opponent's face; he situated himself up on one knee as he embraced the man, looking over his shoulder the to rest of the crew as he made them watch. He planted his left arm against Pops' stomach, the platelets articulating to produce a smooth-bore projectile launcher. With careful contemplation, he spoke the last words ever to be heard by Phoenix Gray on this Earth with a reverence, "Y-You... fought well... old man. G-Go... and be at peace..."

The heavy shot burst through Pops' abdomen with a loud boom, taking with it most of his innards and a good chunk of his ribcage as it sprayed the ground behind him in blood and bone. His face crashed against Farris' shoulder, lifeless and long-gone. The weight of his body pulled down, and Farris shrugged his shoulder as what remained of Phoenix Gray crumpled over into the sand. It was done.

"NO-O-O-O!!! YOU MOTHERFUCKER-R-R-R!!!"

Farris released a deep sigh, his eyes locked on the rest of the crew as he struggled to his feet amid the multiple shots fired in his direction. There was still smoke trailing from the end of his launcher, but the implant quickly disappeared as it retracted back into his arm. His attention was called by several other operators retreating in the opposite direction, and he took one last look as Miz's bright red eyes burning hate into him before disappearing into the oncoming sandstorm.

"I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU WITH MY BARE HANDS I SWEAR TO GOD!!!"

Miz didn't even recognize her own screams as tears rolled down her face and she clawed at the arm holding her back. Her mind was blank, seething hatred the only thing burning in her veins. Her entire body was on fire as that endless void consumed her, and all she heard was the emptiness screaming back.

"FU-U-U-u-uck... he's gone... HE'S GONE!!!"

Billy held on as tight as he could, picking her up off the ground as the nomads urged them to move. The sandstorm was closing in fast, and they'd be completely overrun if they didn't get ahead of it. Nobody cared about fighting anymore. The Militech security forces had all but retreated at this point, and the Aldecaldos were following suit. It wasn't long before the sand completely enveloped them; they didn't have much time...

--

[Several hours later - Nomad Camp, Rocky Ridge, The Badlands]

While none of the crew had ever figured out exactly where they were, the trip underground told them it had to be at least somewhere south of the NUSA border. It was nearly two hours back to the border, then another hour to clear the city to the northeast plains of Rocky Ridge. In this time, Miz had managed to cry herself into a catatonic state. All of the crew were lost in the pain and grief, but she most of all carried it the heaviest in her heart. As much as Billy wanted to comfort her, he knew she was off the deep end at this point, and he was genuinely afraid of what might happen if he tried to touch her. As far as he was concerned, he was the one who tore her away from being able to save her father; at least, that's how he felt she might see it if he pushed his luck. There was enough emotion swirling in the air that nothing was making a whole hell of a lot of sense, and so he resigned himself trying to comfort his mother, who hadn't stopped crying since she watched the man she loved put down in the sand.

By now, the crew had been put up wherever there was space in the camp. It went without saying, but nobody was kicking them out any time soon. They hadn't just lost their leader; each of them in their own way had lost a father. And the Aldecaldos had lost a near and dear friend. Everyone in the camp was in mourning, taking time to pay respects. What surprised everyone the most was they'd still managed to recover the body. In the few actual words spoken on the way back, Saul had already given his word to do it right. Phoenix Gray's body would be laid to rest, committed to the Earth, and a full send-off given to pay homage to a great man.

The words fell empty as nobody really cared about anything; they were just awash in a sea of grief, treading water and taking each breath as it came. Miz had been laid out on a cot in one of empty tents as soon as they got back, and Billy and Liv hadn't moved from their seats directly out front. They sat in silence, staring into the fire as the tears fell. There was so much pain in the air, so much suffering, and every bit of it was silent and unseen; but it was felt. The nomads still had jobs to do and duties to perform, but everything was done under a pall.

Panam approached around the fire, stopping a few paces short of Billy as she fought for her words. He gave no reaction until she tried to speak, and his eyes crept up to meet hers. She had something in her hands; her trembling hands, covered in the remains of her smudged eyeliner. Finally, she muscled out the words, "W-We found all of your crew's personal gear and weapons..."

So the fuck what?!, he thought. Weapons and gear were replaceable... his jaw clenched, his eyes returning to the fire until she continued, holding out her hands, "Somethin' tells me Phoenix would have wanted you to have this..."

His eyes widened ever so slightly at the sight before him. A beautifully aged and worn leather shoulder-holster containing an even more aged and worn masterpiece of a Malorian Overture. The old man's favored six-shooter, older than any one of the crew at this point, including the woman holding it. He tried to fight the tears building, looking back up to Panam as his voice faltered.

She placed it down and pointed to a seat next to him, to which he lightly nodded as she sat down with a heavy sigh. She stared into the fire for too long before she spoke again, "I wish I'd had the chance to get to know him like all of you did..."

Billy found his voice and spoke for the first time since getting back as he placed a hand on hers, "He always had fond memories of his time with all of you."

Panam smiled as she looked to him, then back to the fire, "Easy to see why he took to you... and Miz too... how is she?"

Billy shook his head, turning to look through the tent flap, "No change since we got ba— ...w-where'd she go?!"

He threw open the heavy flap, finding nothing and no one inside. The cot was empty, the back flap of the tent blowing in the light breeze. A panic set in as he jumped from the chair and looked around, but she was nowhere to be found.

Miz had wandered at least fifty feet past the last row of tents, now standing amid nothing but desert shrubs and the odd cactus here and there as she stared into the horizon. The sun was beginning to set behind her, the sky changing as the wind picked up bits of sand scraping against her face and settling in her hair. Her entire body was still trembling as she fought in her own mind. She had lost so much, and she wasn't sure she had anything left to give. She felt all alone in the world, so very small; and it terrified her.

She had a detached demeanor and cadence as she held up her Unity, releasing the magazine as it fell into the sand. She produced a single round, dropping it into the chamber as she'd done hundreds of times before, and she released the slide forward as she stared off into the distance. A strange calm swept over her body, but now her hand was a quaking mess as it held the iron by her side. Another round of tears formed as her eyes clouded over before a gentle voice called out to her from behind, "...Em... please... talk to me..."

Not this time, Tiger, she thought to herself as she turned to face him, her composure breaking with every second passed. She shook her head and broke her silence, "I love you, Billy. I'm so sorry... I love you so much... please forgive me..."

Before he could react, reaching out to grab for the love of his life, she closed her eyes tight with a sharp inhale as she gritted her teeth, pressed the barrel into her temple, and pulled the trigger...

--