By the time I have reached past the saloon doors, not even a dusty cloud of Lana's presence is anywhere to be seen. All that there is a land of garbage stacked onto each other building mountains. I can tell that much of the trash is rusted metal and miscellaneous scrap pieces from who knows what.

The further I went along, the more I noticed small details such as mountains of metal no taller than me, and piles of trash that tried to pierce me from my boot. Only if I could have copied Lincoln back at Solis. His light footwork would have made exploring this place a breeze. I can't be reminded of that now with about a 5ft wide trail that I need to push myself along this metal wonderland.

Reaching inside the outer layers of the junkyard, my eyes, by this point, can't help but admire the view of the rusty rosy sky that wraps past the metal fence endlessly. I almost get that same relaxing feeling looking down at the red sand back at Solis. Only certain people got the privilege to see such red after all to begin reading the sand looking for any story buried waiting to be told.

I can't help to sigh and curse underneath my breath at that privilege but as I do so, my ears tingle hearing a giggle. In the corner of my eyes, I see that red-capped head poking out behind a tiny hill of broken and rusted trinkets. She starts giggling even louder when she sees I've found her and then runs past my sightline again.

"Wait. Slow down their kiddo," I tried yelling at her but to no avail. This time, I'm not letting it be that way for long.

I can almost taste her trail as she bobs and weaves past every corner and hill making airplane noises with her tongue and stretching out her arms and flapping them like wings.

The tighter corners she evens gets without a scratch from a pointy tip of metal unlike me who almost runs straight into them a few times. Each one passed; she can't help but remind me that she is Lincoln's sister.

Two turns later, she leaves me baffled with another disappearing act. She couldn't have gotten too far I think to myself. I was almost right on top of her. I almost start continuing to sprint down that straight path until I hear that same familiar giggle. I stop halfway, walk backward, turn to my left, and see what my eyes catch in its rear view.

Her sitting on top of a hill of trash dangling her legs over the edge. The hill isn't too high up but still needs to be climbed upon to reach the height she's at. I was right behind her, so how did she get up there so fast?

I ponder on it for a moment and start seeing the path she took to make that climb and the pieces she used. Half of some old bicycle chains exposed from the hill, pieces of railings sticking out, and lengthy metal pipes surprisingly new looking for how rusted they must be by this point. All laid out in a way for her to climb up there like a squirrel in a tree.

"Hi Joseph," she yells while her legs hang and waddle in the air.

"Now you can't climb a tree, but you can this?"

"Trees are way higher than these," she pouts.

Somehow her delivery made me shake my head slowly with a smile.

"Alright kiddo, let's come down from there."

After forming another pout from her lips, she used the same metal pieces I had a feeling she used to climb up there earlier to swiftly come back down. As her feet touch the ground, I can't help but see that she's been busy with the way the duffel bag that old man Phil gave her pushes down on her shoulder.

Continuing down the trail, she explains that during 'our' little game of cat and mouse, she grabbed many different gears, trinkets, and broken-down pieces of machinery. She even said she's gotten some useful stuff off the mountain top she camped out on. At least she didn't go up there to completely mess with me.

She then whimsically excitedly compliments me for keeping up because according to her, her father was the only one able to do so but with a bit of trouble. I can't blame him. For a little girl, she can run, and that's coming from someone who runs for their entire life after The Great Terror.

Maybe a minute later after thinking that, Lana runs towards a pile of different-sized gears and starts digging and throws some to the side. I can't help but think of running for excitement, for something that catches your eye, so incorrectly as if you were a child playing on a playground not caring what happens next.

Too bad anytime I run, it always has to come with another pair of feet treading backward in my head. After hearing the thump of a gear go towards my feet, it's about time to get us back on track.

"Look Lana, I know collecting all these items and playing hide-and-seek is fun and all, but I don't think we'll find the raw carbonite littered in all of this."

"Ah yeah, I did. You need raw carbonite."

Right after she says it, she grabs my pants once more and guides me further along through the maze that this junkyard conjured. I take note that as we further reach the back, the piles of scraps get bigger and less organized.

We eventually stop at a gigantic pile of trash that leans over us like a tower. She lets go of me and rushes inside a small gap in between the mountain of trash. After a few seconds dumping her head in, she yells at me to go to my left and go around. I quickly do so, and I'm stunned to see what is on the other side.

Coming face to face, a mineshaft with a small cave-like entry that leads into a side of a cavern. Old planks of wood and any restricted no-zone signs I can think of plaster themselves on the entries. Too bad the restrictions haven't lasted out of the testament of time.

Maybe it might have stopped Lana from going through a small gap torn apart by human hands through the wooden bars. All with a blissing smile. While I, on the other hand, try to fake one. I had a feeling that I would need to go into a place like this to get raw carbonite. With all the fibers in my mind, I would fight to make things different.

A huge gulp goes down my throat and then falls around the tips of my spine. I can even feel each tiny drop of sweat running all over my body. I glimpse over to Lana whose face remains as bliss as ever. No way I could turn my back to a face like that, especially with Lana's smile nudging me to come along.

With that, I take another swig of saliva down my throat and try moving some of the old wooden planks and they almost snap back with the pressure from my metal hand. This metal limb seems to never disappoint. Its strength is impeccable even when I don't need it to be. Only if that strength could be shifted around to the other parts of my body. Like my legs that twitch after each step walking past the entrance.

Going further away, the more apparent the scent of dread begins to fill these tight spaces with gas. The lighting only consists of a few lanterns barely keeping the darkness from our eyes. Then there's the quiet that I wish sings a parading song in silence to where I can't hear my own voice inside my mind.

It's too quiet even for a place like this, where I can hear each tiny little pebble that Lana crushes underneath her shoes while walking. It's funny to watch her be so carefree while exploring this place. I have to keep that simple reminder floating around in my head.

This is a different time.

I remember hearing about something that mothers after The Great Terror would always tell their kids.

'The mineshafts and caves alike aren't too stray because those places are where the ghouls come and play.'

Most children would know to listen to such words. Because as successful as the Founders and the people who fought with them were, they couldn't kill all of them. Maybe because they were all people once, no different than I or Lana. Maybe because of that, they had a sense of self-preservation.

The ones we didn't kill drove themselves underground, hiding and contracting in caves and abandoned shafts such as these. Afterwards, the underground had been simply called Ghoul City.

I have only ever been inside a Ghoul city once. Once too many. I was lucky that the trip only left me with my life intact. Sometimes others aren't so lucky. One day you'll get paid a huge amount from your mining into Ghoul territory, then the next, you get snarled up by the ghouls like a chicken wing to never be seen again.

A poor way to live contrary to the pay. Sadly, that's just the life for people in my time, most being children.

Thinking about that has my mind start playing tricks on me, again. My eyes and ears turn frantically after every faint echo I hear bounces off the cave walls imagining the static-like screeches that the Ghouls give. All from God knows where inside those dusty tombs.

At one point, the echo fell so close I could hear it pulling my ear back by a string. I jump back looking to my side to see nothing but rocks and endless miles of dust.

"Are you ok, Joseph" Lana asks me most likely drawn by my quick jumping. "Because if you have reason to be scared, then I'll start to get scared too."

It's hard to reassure her anything this time around. Even if there aren't any ghouls down here, I would rather be anywhere but here. However, looking at her eyes starting to tangle, I knew I had to try something.

"Don't worry Lana, I'm okay. Let's just say being underground isn't my cup of tea."

"Like my fear of heights but instead of being high up, you're afraid to be below?"

I slowly chuckle "Something like that."

"Well Joseph, you helped me fight against my fear, so then I'll help you fight against yours."

"Thanks, kiddo, hopefully, we can find a trace of raw carbonite and high tail it out of here. Because from what I've seen, this place seems pretty empty."

"I wouldn't be so sure." After rolling that from her tongue, we stop and she points to something embedded in the sand right underneath an approaching lantern.

Two leather boot prints resting upon the layer of sand. As I go down to examine it, Lana explains how her father would have her come down here from time to time to learn about rock structures and such.

Eventually, they stopped once he died about a few months ago. However, a few days ago she came down here for the heck of it and found the prints that weren't there before. So far, her story adds up.

Frankly, I'm not the best tracker. Heavy easily claims that title out of the Ragtags. A trick I picked up from him is to not just feel the moisture but look at the color as well. Because that can give some info on about where it comes from. The end of the boot prints has the most red ingrained within. I pick up a speck of it with my fingers 

'Interesting, the sand is still wet.'

Now seeing clear evidence of Lana's claim being true, I grab the lantern overseeing the boot prints and tell Lana to stay close and we begin walking further along the pathway.

We eventually run into a tunnel system that splits off into four different paths to choose from. All of them seem endless, so we choose the one with a few new boot prints visible from the lantern's light. It doesn't take long afterward to start seeing different tools from pickaxes to small drills scattered about throughout the path. That opens a whole new set of problems the further we trek along.

Pickaxes stabbing into rocks, some still showing bits of ore. Mining machine lying paralyzed in the middle of digging. Even more equipment like mining helmets and even dynamite litter throughout the path. More concerning are the many new boot prints spread out going in different directions. I bend down once more to feel another sample.

'Interesting, Flaky yet dry. Unlike the first.'

While Lana wonders in amazement at all the things around her, my eyes are left to grovel. It only comes more to fruition when I see a pickaxe waiting patiently for someone to finish mining the ore next to it.

An amethyst vein, and a big and quite captivating one at that. Any miner who could find this stuff wouldn't just leave this lingering in the open in such a way. So, that begs the question.

'Where did they go?'

I tell Lana to stay close once I turn, seeing her drifting off, and let's find this raw carbonite as soon as possible. We continue taking a straight path forward as we have been doing but to no avail. From more amethyst to coal to copper, an emerald or two, and even some regular carbonite. Not raw, so useless.

Going further down we find ourselves in another four-way intersection. Each pathway is equally abandoned and endless. I motion for us to continue straight ahead but that changes when Lana pulls my pants and motions me to go left. She then points to something in the distance.

I followed her not too far from the middle breaking off point to see a mining machine. They're usually bright green and I considered them like tree shredders but for mining. They use these machines' sharp teeth shaped from a great white to mine the rocks and collect ore at a fast rate.

Unfortunately, the vein looks to be empty, and checking the inventory section inside the machine, no ores are left to be scavenged. Even if the vein wasn't empty, I doubt I can run this thing without making this place slither.

"Do you see it," Lana asks.

"Well, I only see a machine that I can't operate right next to an empty vein. I have no idea what you're seeing kiddo."

"You got to look harder." She then pushes her hands near her eyes. "You must squint your eyes ever so."

Not knowing what else to do, I do what she does by pushing my hands near my eyes. I know I look ridiculous, but with that being said, a picture starts to form around me. It's faint but I can make it out to be a long rod of metal stuck deep in between the machine's teeth. I go in closer hugging the machine for a slightly better look.

From what I can tell, it's carbonite, just normal carbonite.

"Sorry kiddo, it looks just to be the normal stuff. We should keep going."

"No," She shouts. "It is raw carbonite. I know it is."

I pause for a moment, if only because of how she shouted at me. Such determination sprayed through her voice. Adding on to me not even spotting this rock before now without Lana's help, I owe it to her for the benefit of the doubt.

"How can you tell?"

"Well it's hard to explain but my dad would say that there are two types of carbonite. Raw and fool's carbonite. The raw stuff knows its value so much that it winks at anyone looking for it. Come stand where I am and see for yourself."

Just as before, I go down to her level and squint my eyes once more. God be dammed. A shine from the metal flickers for a moment as if it were winking. I knew for certain two things. One, raw carbonite has a tiny layer of satiny making it look like new, and two, the normal stuff is mostly a pretty darkish palette of grey and black.

Looking back at her, once again she gives me that look with a cheeky smile that the Foliums seem to love to give me.

"Alright Lana, here's the plan," I start to say while rising from her level. "I'm going to try and lift the machine's jaw open just long enough for you to go in and grab the carbonite. Got it?" She starts wobbling her head rapidly "Good, I'll give you the word go once I'm in position.

I watch her go straight in front of the machine's jaws, stretch her legs, and begin squatting down. I get into my position, one hand at the jawline while the other, my metal one, holds the upper part. Once grounded, I pull them in the opposite vertical direction.

Its old squeaky gears squeal as I use only strength to pry it open like ripping a floorboard. I get it halfway up before my arm and the gears start crying. Not a moment later, I looked up at Lana who after she let me know that she could fit, I never said go faster in my life.

If opening this jaw was the hard part, then holding it open is a new beast altogether. My right arm shakes heavily trying to keep the machine from ripping off my tendent, while my left tries to keep itself from crushing the top with Lana in it. It hurts way more realizing how soft this world's already making me.

Not saying I could rip this thing open like a DB can, but if I was back home, with both my normal arms, it wouldn't feel this unbalanced.

"How are we looking Lana," My voice says cruising pain through my teeth.

"I...think so, I think I found it." She pauses. "Oh no."

"What's wrong?"

"It's stuck. I can't...it won't seem...to budge."

"Lana if you can't, get out of there. I don't know how much longer I can keep this thing open."

"Wait...I...see something. I have an idea."

"Hurry!" That hurry I wouldn't be surprised if it felt like my last words.

Every fiber I can feel is being used to keep this open. My left arm's shaking feels almost uncontrollable, to the point where the grip feels like slipping. Though I know it only keeps on pushing for her. If I were to lose it again, it better be without a single scratch on her.

I give it my last bits of stride as I hear screeching like chalk upon a dried-up sidewalk, a snap, and once I see Lana's dolphin roll outside the mouth, it drops making a decent-sized thud while sending me to the ground.

"Are you ok, Joseph," she shouts over to me.

I stagger but manage to say

"Yeah, never better," I pause to take a much-needed breath. "More importantly, are you?"

"Never better," she says letting the hugest smile appear on her face.

Her hands wave the 3ft rod of raw carbonite like a ribbon in the wind. That fact alone starts making me chuckle a little while still panting for air. Funny enough the joy overseas the pain knowing that thanks to Lana, I'm one step closer to getting home.