The sky burns with the dying sun. Scor and I stand atop the boot, while Thai sits on the ground next to Elias a few strides away. In the distance, near the water front, Trent, Sax and Blu discuss something quietly, but Scor and I keep an eye on them.

"What is this place?" Thai asks in total awe.

"Was a campsite before the war," I answer. "We found it ages ago when we paid Tixits to ferry us through the REDZONE, but that crew died off last year and everyone forgot about their holdover cites so we use it here and there." He off-roaded the ute down a small stream that leads to the river which serves as perfect protection from Zeroes.

The only potential threat is the KillTag tribe that farms these parts. They, harvest, Zeroes, then put them through the slave-trade markets that are south of here. They wouldn't come this close to water, but they might wait for us on the main road.

But we're not their specialty. They trade Zeroes.

"What's a Tixit?" Elias mutters, glaring at the river like he don' wanna look at something so pretty. Not now that Gisselle is gone... Ibis still missing.

The hidden alcove is surrounded by trees. The sandy riverbank meets a serene aqua-green expanse of water that shimmers with golden light. The fresh spring breeze is cool and sublime.

"Tixit's will take you through the REDZONE for a shit tonne of money," Scorpius answers, hoisting a pack over the edge before he drops it on the ground for someone to collect later. I raise the next one up, favouring my bad arm before I lower it down and let it drop.

"What's an expert like you paying an escort for?" Thai quips, shading her eyes from the sun as she turns to look up at Scorpius from her seat on the sand.

He grins, "Viper and I were on her first ever job. Had to steal something off them, figured, we'd pay for their services then..." He looks to me playfully, "ask nicely for a refund?"

Thai chuckles slightly, turning back to the water as she collects a stick from the dirt, playing with it absently.

Teacup would've been so excited to see this place, she would've asked me all sorts of annoying questions about how we found it. I can hear her asking why people before the war went camping if they had houses? Maybe she would've asked to swim even though she didn't know how. The Reservoir went bad years ago, what with the fish worms.

Tears prick at my eyes, but I blink them away. What'd I expect? She'd be safe and sound, grow to be like some kid sister of mine?

She would be safe if I had just shot Wilkes for real. What the fuck was I doing?

The surface reflects the pink sky like a mirror—the view is too pretty. It's jarring.

"We don' got a lot of light to set up, you wan' carry some shīt to the fire pit?" I ask Elias with a gentle voice, hoping he'll understand that I'm trying to help him take his mind off it.

After a moment he glances around, nodding distantly, so I continue unloading, "You's need help?" Saxon offers, jogging over to the ute while E and Thai hoist themselves up. I use my good arm to lower a pack down to Elias, my bad arm strapped to my chest with one of Scor's t-shirts.

"Yeah mate, carry what you can to the pit over there." Scor tosses the pack to Sax.

Trent and Blu lag, but Sax arrives at the side of the boot and jerks another two bags over his shoulders, plodding off. He gives Blu a bag as he passes, so she follows him away.

Trent scratches his cheek with a bad attitude painted on his face, craning his head up to Scorpius with a stand-offish glare, "You got an axe, for wood?"

Scor grins, side-eyeing me smugly before he rummages around, "All yours." Beside his pack Scorpius collects his signature machete, lifting it over first before he brings the axe around in his other hand. Trent's gaze flinches down to the giant machete like he thinks Scorpius might suddenly thwack him in the face, but Scor drops it so the blade wedges in the sand a foot in front of Trent.

They hold eye contact.

Scorpius reaches down, barring the axe across Trent's chest as he uses him as a support to jump the boot. Scor lands, his hand still wrapped around the axe despite Trent already gripping it. I notice the way Scor passes, accidentally bobbing his face over Trent's in a mix of intimidation, and teasing.

Oh, he's such a fuckin' slut. I grin, part of me amused by Trent's instant attention.

Thai watches the exchange and her left brow twangs in disapproval.

Having successfully pitted the two against each other, Scorpius jovially collects a supplies kit from the ground and chucks it at Elias, grinning at him. "Gimme a bit more," Elias tells me, and I lower a bundle of things.

Saxon returns, but when Blu finally arrives she digs her heels  in, and I narrow my eyes. She tried to get Scorpius to leave without me. Bītch would be better dead.

"Help." I grate out, glaring at the stupid cow.

Blu wrinkles her nose, "What, the Yakuza skank don' gotta do anything?" She gestures at Thai.

"No," I bark, "The 'Yakuza skank' can sit on her pretty little äss because she actually helped us get out." I toss the second pack at Saxon and he catches it reflexively.

Fuming, I grab a second pack and lob it at Blu so hard that she stumbles. I hide how bad my shoulder aches as I meet her enraged glare, waiting for her to try and argue, but then she sticks her top lip up and spins around with a bītchy strut.

Trent tricked me into opening her cell.

Scor grins silently, but once they fall out of earshot he resumes the conversation we were trying to finish earlier, lowering his voice. "Yeah, so, the Voytek's have taken seven outposts and Base Albatross since the first base near Lake Darling." He grabs a fuel canister, hoisting it over the trunk.

"All with King Trick at the helm?" I ask, unable to understand how the Manics, after two decades of disorganisation, are somehow pulling off a large-scale assault on the army.

He nods, "And, Sphynx told me that on the night I left, one of the gang men from Lake Darling came to visit Trick at Camden."

I snap my head to look at Scorpius, "He say which gang, at least?"

"Nah, the fucker's too dumb to notice the difference between Ghoul or Yakuza. He reckons all normal people look clean and stuck up," Scorpius grins, adding, "Bar you." To save my ego.

I smile, "Looking clean is a compliment, dumbass."

He laughs, "Looking clean means you like water which is Manic for crazy—" The second canister lurches up in his fist, and I realise it's empty. He blinks dully, first alarmed, then confused, but then his features flatten.

"Oh, you're fücking with me. Did you forget to fill it?" I ask as I crouch down to grab it off him, unscrewing the cap. I sniff it, "What was—?" I cut myself off when I realise the canister was filled with water... we're missing a fuel canister.

"It was half empty anyway," He frowns, distracted. He crinkles his face up as he inspects the contents of the boot.

"What are you looking for?" I ask.

He starts shoving at different cases and packs, but then he stiffens, "Fück," He starts lobbing shīt over the edge with frantic hands, "Fück, fück, no."

"Hey. Don' freak, what's wro—"

He shoves himself away and kicks the ute. Rage splits his features. "Fücking imbecile!" Scorpius shouts, spinning in Trent's direction.

Trent looks up from afar, his axe wedged in a makeshift chopping log. In a split-second, Scorpius charges at him and I break chase, hopping the boot and running.

"Scor, Scor!"

Scorpius's long legs gobble the distance up. "No! This fücker! You fück for brains piece of shīt!" He shoves Trent in the chest.

Trent recovers from his daze and pushes back but I grab Scorpius before he can retaliate, "Scor! What'd he fücking do?!"

Scorpius doesn't fight me, but then Trent's dog-mad eyes fill with feral rage. Trent arcs up, "What's your fückin' problem? Münted cünt."

The slur hits a nerve and Scor loses his shīt, cracking him in the nose with a feral punch—Trent retaliates but I get between, trying to pry them apart, but he backhands me and pain floods to my cheek. I flip. In two swift moves, I tear my knife out and bully him into a chokehold. The blade is still caked with Wilkes's blood.

Scorpius grabs Trent by the collar, Trent's chest heaving as they come nose to nose with me rammed in the middle. Even with one arm in a sling, I have him pinned.

Trent hisses when I dig the knife against his neck, ignoring the dull throb in my cheek. Blood gushes from his nose into his teeth. Sax and Blu skid to a stop a few meters away, Elias not far behind.

"Stop! Stop!" Thai runs from the fire pit. "What happened?! What's this about?"

No one moves, preparing to turn on each other, but I look at Scorpius. This close I can see the specks of grit and charcoal in his blonde stubble.

"What'd I fückin' do?" Trent snarls, but his tone pisses me off so I press my knife so hard that a dribble of blood runs down his neck into his dirt-stained shirt.

Scor glowers at him, but then Trent breathes through his nose, angling his chin up in silent surrender.

It surprises us both but Scor covers his reaction with a nasty grin, tipping his head back like he's sharing a silent joke with the sunset. He's such an a$$hole that it makes me wan' laugh. "This fückwit done screwed us good." He twist's Trent's collar in his scarred fist, giving him no option but to lean into my knife. A smear of blood seeps into Scorpius's calloused knuckle.

His jarring switch of mood unnerves Sax and Blu, "How?" Blu's voice cracks in terror. Good.

Scor doesn't bother looking at her, just lowering his voice as he glares deep into Trent's eyes, "Remember that black duffle from Crippy's tent?" He reminds me quietly.

I jerk my chin back in surprise, frowning— why would... my face drops.

Where are the guns?

"That big duffel I chucked?" Trent snaps. It all clicks.

Scor lets out a sarcastic laugh pumped so full of spite that it unnerves them more.

Trent threw the guns. The army has our ticket into the Heratix... fück! The blood drains from my face, and I stiffen. Shīt!

Scor's shaded eyes darken as he glowers at Trent, but he stifles whatever he was gon' say like swallowing a snake. Swallowing a secret.

Without looking at each other, we decide we can't tell them about the guns, not yet at least.

"Instead of ditching the empty water canteen, he threw three days worth of fuel out." Scorpius talks so the others can hear, covering his rage up as he shoves Trent. I let go, allowing him to land on his a$$.

"But you said we're hiking." Thai reasons. "What bag? What was in it?"

What are we gon' do?

"Bag don' matter. We're selling the car, but if the buyers don' have enough fuel the first place they're gon' go is Holders Bay," I diverge, justifying Scorpius's train of thought. What the fück are we gon' do?

"So?" Trent snaps, kicking himself to his feet angrily.

"So the army is gon' track them to the same city as us," Elias finishes. His astute realisation reveals the depth of his intelligence which earn's a momentary flicker of surprise from Thai. Still, I can barely focus on the fuel.

The Heratix are gon' hunt us down as soon as they figure out we lost the fückin' guns.

"Yeah, and now I gotta risk my hide and rob that tribe of Zero's near the offshoot." Scorpius snaps, but he rubs his upper arm, pacing on the same spot aggressively like he wants to storm off.

"He didn't do it on purpose, I saw." Thai walks closer, taking Trent's side, "I mean that boot was fucking stocked man, I don' know how you expected all of us to fit."

Scorpius grins sarcastically, but the manic glint in his eyes makes his smile look more like a dog baring its teeth. His canines glint. "Well fuck me, I figured four seats and a boot would fit five. Didn't think yous would add," He gestures at however many extras we have, "Or you'd come lumbering up with fuckin' heat on you." Okay, slight oversight.

Trent's brittle hair hangs in his eyes like threads of hay, but beneath the nasty exterior, his brown eyes spark. "I'll help you get the fuel. Tomorrow. And whatever was in the bag I'll replace it."

Everyone goes silent like they're waiting to exhale, looking to Scorpius, but Scor's face stays unreadable.

He cracks a grin, twisting on his heel as he strolls his way past Thai, "Don' get bit..." He jaunts, gesturing for me to follow, "Vi come." He picks Trent's axe up and slings it over his shoulder, "Saw a dead tree way back that'll make good wood. Yous start setting up." He reaches the car, collecting the machete he left standing in the sand.

We make it a few steps away before Trent finally turns around, and Scor strings his arm over my shoulder, letting me take the machete. His brows are drawn tight, and he pulls a vape from his pocket, putting it to his lips with the hint of urgency. He pulls on the eDart, inhaling long and hard like it'll take away the problem.

Without the guns, we're not going to have anything to bargain with. If the Heratix take us in, we'll be their slaves. No say, no choice.

My fingers tremble as it slowly sets in, so I take the eDart off him and draw a long pull too, "We're so fücked."

...

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