Anderson brings me to a door that I'm guessing leads outside. He opens it and pushes me through. I step out, and the cool night air greets me. A slight breeze shakes the dry leaves on the ground. Anderson pushes me again. "Come on, Delirious. Get in the truck." He says, and I walk towards the armoured prison truck parked in front of me. The back door of the truck swings open, and Anderson shoves me into the truck. He clips the handcuffs to the truck like before, and then says to me, "I'll check back in on you in a few days. Have fun in lockup." He smirks, and then slams the doors shut. He bangs on the back of the truck, indicating to the driver to get going. The truck starts up, and we start to drive. I look up at the inside of the back of the truck. A guy in a black zip-up sweatshirt is sitting across from me. He is also chained to the seat. He can't be older than 20. I can't help but notice that this guy has pink hair. Like, bright pink. He sits with his elbow propped on his knee and his head resting on his hand. I stare at him for a moment, then I awkwardly clear my throat. He looks up at me, and I smile. Then I realize he can't see it behind my mask. The guy examines my mask, and then continues to stare at me. I lean back and put my arms behind my head. After a moment, I look back at him. He's still staring at me. I sigh and lean forward. "Hey." I say, and he sort of jumps a little. I roll my eyes and snicker. "A little jumpy, man?" I ask, and he smiles a little at me. "What are you going in for?" he asks me. I smile behind my mask, and I stare at him. "Oh, Im in for a whole hell of a lot. A list a mile long. But the main things are murder, attacks, mass murder, things like that." He stares at me wide-eyed, with his mouth open a little. I smirk. "Yeah. They finally got me, after years of me terrorizing the city." He looks at me, then narrows his eyes a little, as if he were trying to piece something together. Then his eyes go wide. "Wait a minute. Are you H20 Delirious?!" He yells. I lean my head back as I sigh, and then lean forward again. "Yep. That's me. But I'm curious as to who you are. What's your name, kid?" I look at him, and he frowns. "Kid? Dude, Im only, like, three years younger than you are. Probably." He tilts his head. "How old are you?" I roll my eyes, and reply. "Twenty-three. You?" He smiles. "Twenty. I was right. I'm only three years younger. The name's Craig. But people call me Mini Ladd." He says, with a hint of pride. Mini Ladd. Huh. I shrug my shoulders. "So, Mini Ladd, what are you going to the slammer for?" I ask. He groans. "Well, I kinda got caught after I had just finished a job, and the cops had been after me for a little while, and they brought me in." Nodding, I let my curiosity get the best of me. "What kind of job?" I push. "I'm an assassin. I was sniping a guy, and I've taken out a lot of other people. The cops are just only getting me now." I nod. "Cool." He shrugs, and then I feel the truck slow to a stop. I hear the driver talking to someone, and then I hear the click of a lock, and the sound of a metal gate opening. The truck starts moving again, and I hear a blaring alarm, alerting our arrival. Craig looks around, confused. I look at him, and he meets my gaze. "We're here." I say.