Guns & Roses

Chapter 38

[Hank]

Cramped. That's all he felt in that damn car. He wasn't sure how, but Deimos convinced 2B to let them take a pickup-truck to their next mission. He, for one, wasn't a fan of this idea. Sanford always got the front, and 2B didn't trust him or Deimos to drive, so he was stuck in the back. Not only that, but the middle seat was sitting far too close to someone to be comfortable, and thanks to brilliant genetics, he was too tall for the back, so he had to hold his neck at an angle if he wanted to fit. It was already starting to get sore, and god knew how much time they had left of driving. Part of him wished he were sick again, at least then he wouldn't be able to register how much time was passing.

All that to say, he couldn't wait for them to stop so he could get some time away from everyone. The banter was entertaining to listen to at first, but it had since gotten sparse and irritating. He swore, if someone tried talking to him he'd break their face in.

Finally, they stopped, but there were no buildings in sight, none he could see at least. He glared at Sheriff, who'd taken his turn to drive for a while. What was he up to? He noticed Sheriff briefly glance at him in the rear view mirror before looking away. Hank narrowed his eyes. What were they so afraid of?

Sheriff opened his door, peeking his head back in the car to speak, "Anyone else need the bathroom? You'd better take the chance while you have it."

He didn't have to announce it like that. Regardless, 2B and Sanford got out. He felt awkward staying in the car with another person, let alone Deimos, who he knew would try striking up conversation, so he too left the car.

A blast of heat scorched him as he stepped out. He had to admit, that car was good at keeping it comfortably cool, even if the rest of the experience was terrible. Standing with his hands on his hips he scanned the area, assuming everyone had scattered behind some boulders. He was itching to go somewhere, to do something, but he knew he couldn't wander far. Although... 2B wouldn't dare leave without him. Hank was their strongest ally, and the closest thing they'd get to a 'perfect soldier'. He'd rather disappear for a little while and have 2B disappointed in him than to be crushed in that car again anytime soon.

So, he chose a random direction, and walked. After the lingering feeling of being trapped inside that moving box left, it was peaceful. The cracked dirt wasn't exactly pretty to look at while walking, but it was keeping him occupied by following along the lines as he walked. He let his mind wander idly as he took in temporary freedom. He thought about that cat, wondering if it was doing okay. Maybe he'd visit if they ever went back to base. He'd be sure to smuggle something meaty in for it. Speaking of, what kind of meat was around in Nevada? Had it all gone off by now?

His thoughts trailed off, as he mindlessly kicked a rock around while walking. A small gust rolled past, uncomfortably hot, but it was still a relief. It was still real, unlike that aircon. He wondered how long he'd been out there for, usually he'd have some idea, but he zoned out heavily this time around. His stomach rumbled. How long was it since he'd eaten? He knew they all got handed rations a little under an hour before Sheriff stopped the car. How long had it been?!

He turned around, to a vast expanse filled with only a red sky and forever-stretching ground with no indication of the car or... Anything, really. Where the hell was he?!

'Dumbass.' He sighed, hoping he was going back in the right direction.

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After ages of just ground and sky, something finally broke up the shape. A person, though he grumbled about who it was. Even from miles away he could see that damn hat. Oh well, it was a chance to continue acting friendly with him. Hopefully he had the energy for it at all.