Chapter 5- Trip.

“The deadlands?” Jewel exclaimed. Michael’s ears throbbed. He sat opposite Jewel, beside Barry and Andrew.
“You aren’t going alone,” Andrew butted in, but he quickly closed his mouth when Jewel glared at him.
The muddled sounds of DC filled the room. Jewel sighed.
“Can you even wrap your brain around how vast the deadlands are?” Jewel asked the group, “it’s huge! It’s literally the entire American land isolated from any river or sea!” Jewel raised her hands as she shouted, before slamming them on the arms of her couch.

Michael nodded. DC wasn’t the capital anymore. The most prosperous states are those near the ocean, with communities along rivers trailing behind. The deadlands aren’t all brown and grey though- the term simply refers to areas with no “laws” and minimal human activity. Rogue groups often camp around areas with vegetation, but some have outposts in the dry areas like Nevada and New Mexico.

America’s governance over trade has collapsed ever since the appearance of superhumans, the advantage going to Europe. Maybe the extreme environment is what gave America stronger heroes.

“Do you know when the heroes are coming?” Michael asked.
Jewel shook her head in response.
“Some are definitely here already. I’ll probably be contacted once all of them arrive,” she said.
The atmosphere tightened. A rush with no definitive deadline is never pleasing.

“But… Overseer’s instructions have never been bad,” Barry said with a raspy voice. He looked tired. Baggy eyes, ruffled hair.
Jewel tsked.

[…]

It took a while to come to an agreement. Andrew stayed quiet for most of the conversation. Michael gave occasional comments. After all, it was Barry and Jewel who were going to search the deadlands.

Jewel and Barry would go to the deadlands to look for H.A.V.C.’s headquarters. Barry grumbled, rubbing his temples as Jewel listed all the things they’d need to last out there. Michael listened to the list.

He got up from his chair. “Prepare well,” he said. He left the room, closing the door behind him. Michael felt better now. He was almost healed from the battle three days ago. He stepped onto an interior balcony. Voices echoed, fans hummed, and shoes shuffled.

How will he be able to protect Black Flag? The authorities don’t know where he is. They probably think he’s in the deadlands. Michael observed the ground floor absentmindedly. A woman on the bottom floor tripped and fell. ‘What a bad day for her,’ Michael thought.

[…]

Barry and Jewel dressed themselves in typical hiking clothes. Each carried a huge backpack full of what they considered essential. Compressed food, water, and gadgets to help them track and communicate with each other. The deadlands were of two climates- dry and green. Each type being extreme.

“Don’t die,” said Michael. It was night out. Nobody could know that these two weren’t in DC.
Jewel chuckled. “We aren’t new to this Mike,” she said.
Barry nodded.

Jewel rose up, alien-like, into the air. A roar of heated air burst from Barry’s tubes as he joined Jewel in the air.
“We’ll be quick,” he said. His voice was less raspy than two days ago.

Michael and Andrew watched as two figures disappeared behind a building, leaving a faint haze behind them. Michael could not control his anxiety. His most trusted aide and Jewel were going into the deadlands alone. They’d take days at least.

Andrew glanced at his boss, seeing a deadpan expression. He always looked up to Michael, but he did find him strange. Maybe this is what happens when you’re the son of a ranked hero. How can he remain so calm in such times? He looked at the moon; a dark cloud blocked its light. Just how frigid is he?

[…]

“Marrow is also supposed to explore the deadlands, right?” Jewel asked over a walkie-talkie, “over.”
A voice with heavy static responded, “He’s looking at the places near the highway. That’s the only area where his truck won’t struggle. Over.”

Jewel squinted at the harsh sun, covering her face with her hand. It’s almost noon. She got up from a log, looking around the camp. Five bandits were pinned to the rocky soil through their limbs. The handles of their blades could barely be seen. Their eyes were closed. They didn’t want to go blind.

Jewel kicked the knife of the nearest one. It stayed rigid. The bandit yelped and winced. “Are you part of H.A.V.C.?” she asked. The bandit looked at the shadowed figure. A rectangle twirled in her hand. He nodded weakly.

“Who do you report to?” she pressed. The man tried to speak, but all that came out was air. Jewel clicked tongue. She took the knife out of his leg and drove it through his heart. No yell came. She looked at the other bandits. They drew no breath.

[…]

Sweat dripped down Andrew’s forehead. His hand was greasy. His boots felt uncomfortable. He looked to his right. Stain was playing with a short dagger. Her black hair flowed naturally. Her red shades rested on her forehead. She wore her signature black and red colours. Her blazer, hanging from the grab handle, fluttered in the wind.

Andrew dragged his eyes back to the road. There was nothing but dirt and rubble for miles. They were still in the outskirts of old Washington, D.C. Concrete husks leaned on each other, showing their hollowed interiors.

Walls made of corrugated sheet formed boxes at the base of the buildings. Scavengers moved from rock to rock in small groups. The occasional gunshot echoed through the streets.

“Don’t you think we should be checking those people out?” asked Stain. She was observing how they scaled rubble with vines. Sometimes, the vines broke and the climber fell. She laid her head on the headrest.

Andrew shook his head. “Those are just scavengers. They don’t even have powers,” he said.
“Hm. But don’t you think-”
Andrew cut her off, “I don’t want to waste time.”

The walkie-talkie buzzed. “Marrow. Come in. Over.”
The voice was masculine. It was probably Barry. Andrew reached before the device. He held it firmly so it wouldn’t slip. “Marrow speaking. What is it? Over.” He spoke into the device.

“This is Firefly,” the device spoke. Stain leaned to her left. “I found something.”

Marrow looked at Stain as the walkie-talkie said “over.”
“Where are you? Over.” he asked.
“Half a day away if you keep driving like a grandma.”
Andrew clenched the walkie-talkie, stopping before it cracked.
Stain jotted down the coordinates given by Barry.
“Tell Stake to grab something. We’ll be swaying a lot,” said Andrew.