Last Avenger

Chapter 8

Ari drove them first to Stafford. They and Steve waited in the truck while Thor ran into the house for the shield. He charged back out a minute later, the shield brandished on his arm. Steve was mesmerized by the muscle-bound, blonde god, with the short tidy haircut. He swore he was watching himself charge through the battle of Manhattan. Thor set the shield in the truck then swung into the back seat.

On the drive back to Ship Bottom though there wasn't time to talk. Steve and Thor were hanging onto their seats for dear life as Ari kept the pedal just about to the floor the whole way from Manahawkin. The look on their face was of quiet, empowered rage. They were on their own crusade of sorts and to them the horizon behind them was ablaze.

Energized from the race home, Steve and Thor made haste getting their gear together. They tossed it into the bucket in under ten minutes and were back in the truck, bound for Newark.

Steve caught Thor's eyes in the rear view and the smile lines at their edges.

"What?" Steve said.

"Just noticed you left your cane on the floor back here when we ran inside," Thor said.

"What? Really?" Steve turned in his seat.

Thor tipped the metal pipe up with his foot. Steve's eyes flashed and he turned back to the front.

"I didn't even realize," Steve said on an easy breath.

"Yeah," Thor said, leaning to his friend between the seat and the door, "probably all the adrenaline." He nodded his head pointedly at Ari.

They both snickered.

"I heard that," Ari grumbled.

The two men sheepishly composed themselves and resumed their seats.

It was mid-afternoon when they entered Newark. They followed the freeway in, taking them past Newark Airport. The dock areas and layover bays were littered with the tubular remains of commercial aircraft, a number of them having come apart. As well among them were a handful of old military choppers with wilted rotors and missing doors. The terminals had collapsed, the walls looking like sillouhettes of mountains with jagged peaks and troughs. In some cases, not far away, was the remnants of the downed jet responsible. At parts they could see right inside to old emergency light standards, a few TVs that still clung to the concrete pillars though their screens were smashed, and even the first class lounge whose tables and chairs somehow remained largely undisturbed. The rubble peaked in the heart of the ruin with the upended tail of a commercial jet. On the runway directly next to the freeway was the crumpled and charred carcass of another jetliner that looked like it had nosedived right into the Earth.

Thor huffed and shook his head. "Thanos was capable of getting all six Infinity Stones yet too stupid to realize that eliminating half the universe kills more than half the universe."

"I doubt he cared," Steve said.

Ari swung the car into Port Newark off a service road. They drove down the approximately quarter mile to the first intersection and rounded the corner. They stopped the truck and truck creaked into park.

The port was largely open land occupied with stacks of shipping crates that had crinkled and their paint flaking. They were mostly the silver-grey of metal now. The road had cracked and faded in parts, but was largely intact, save the part of the sidestreet they stopped on where a railroad crossed: the long uncared for tracks had warped and flexed, tearing the road up with them. Strange smells emanated from all directions. Some were sulphuric, some like burnt meat, some old casserole on a Wednesday night.