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Micheal sat up and rubbed his head, groaning. "What the hell happened?" The last thing he remembered was the Hellcat cruiser shaking violently, and a sound of metal piercing metal. Smoke billowed from the frame, and Micheal sighed. "We didn't have many of those left," he grumbled, kicking aside a larger piece of the hull.

"Carlos! Myranda! Jarvis!" Micheal called, forcing himself to stand. He covered his eyes with one hand, his short brown hair shining in the sun. "Wasteland." They would need to find a way back to Haven City before the next sandstorm hit, or worse, before they ran into any Metal Heads. Time was going to be of the essence, he noted as his throat began to dry.

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Athena Blackquill

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