Frank's POV

You know what breathing, walking, and blinking all have in common? They're things we do without thinking, because we've had to. That's what moving along has become. We've grown so used to always being on the move that we don't register the burning of our legs or the screaming of our lungs. It's better to move than be caught, and we're reminded of that every time our travel begins to falter.

Dracs sweep by the area whenever they have a reason- or too much free time. Half of the time the lasers will fire before anybody has processed what's going on.

The BLI workers aren't the only living danger in the desert. People have gone crazy out here- heat, hunger, anger, whatever the reason- and lost their grip on reality. Some of them will literally sit in the sun for hours, getting "high off the rays."

When I see people like that, I almost wonder if this is all really worth it. I wonder if we fled from BLI just to eventually become one of the crazy people living off of the desert sand and sun.

The silent haze Detonation and I walk in is broken with the pull of a trigger, and my green gun is out before I even process the feeling of a bullet ripping into the flesh of my leg. I fire in the general direction that the shot came from as I collapse to the ground, my injured leg giving out beneath me. Detonation pulls out the pink gun that had been tucked into her waistband, firing the laser straight at the chest of the person who fired the first shot, and we watch as his corpse slumps into the sand. She immediately drops her gun and turns to face me, her face pale with worry.

"Ghoul, are you okay?" she asks, dropping to her knees to inspect my leg. Her fingers gingerly graze the wound, feeling like dozens of hot needles being pressed into me.

"Ah, fuck," I wince, lifting my leg off the ground slightly, attempting to ignore the searing pain. "Yeah, I'm good. We've got to keep moving before anybody else catches up to us."

"Ghoul, stop" she orders, "we're not going anywhere until we do something about your leg. We can stop moving for five minutes without having to fear for our lives. Hold on for just a second." She removes a strap of her backpack from her shoulder, sliding the bag off and opening it in front of her. She rummages through it for a few moments before pulling out a bandana. "Let me see."

I stretch my leg out toward her, sending a sharp shot of pain through my entire body. She takes my leg in her hand, carefully tying the cloth tight above the bullet hole. Wiping the blood off of her hands, she tightens her ponytail and grabs her gun off of the ground next to us.

"Are you okay?" I ask, placing my hand on her knee. She directs her gaze to the body of my shooter, a mere fifteen feet away, nodding.

"It's still weird, y'know. Killing people. I try to reason with myself that it's kill or be killed, and I know logically that that's the case, but there's always a part of me that feels guilty." She tears her eyes away from the figure, putting her backpack back on and standing up, tucking her gun back into her waistband. "We should get going."

"Hey," Detonation grabs my arm, hoisting me to my feet and wrapping her arm under my armpits to keep my body weight off of my injured leg. "Thanks for covering me. I know it's weird to kill, but you saved my ass back there. I owe you."

"Nobody owes anybody anything, Ghoul. I've got your back and you've got mine."

With that we begin walking again, with no real destination in mind. There's never a destination- the most direction we have is away from the city. Each step sends indescribable pain surging through my body, and I can see Alison beginning to strain from carrying my weight. The desert sun seems to beat down on us with more ferocity than just moments ago, and the sand seems to pull against our feet with more force. We slowly and painfully trudge up the hill of sand in front of us, stopping in our tracks at the peak.

"Do you see what I see?" Alison asks, flicking her eyes between me and the building that had come into view.

"Maybe there's somebody there that can help us. Or at least give us some shelter to rest for a bit"

Grins breaking onto our faces, we clamber down the hill, the discomfort we had been experiencing subsiding slightly at the prospect of rest and shelter. We can't help but joyously laugh as we get closer and closer to the run-down diner, quieting down once we stop in front of the ratty door.

I grin at my little sister, raising my fist to the wood and knocking. Only a few seconds passed before the door swung open and we were met by the barrel of a red gun.

"Oh" Detonation squeaks, flinching away from the gun. "Can you help us?"

The gun lowers and we're met by a boy about my age. He has blonde hair that is slicked back, but the sides are brown. A red racing jacket hugs his frame tightly and I instantly know who he is. The wanted posters plastered all over Battery City are pretty accurate- save the giant 'x' they have over the boy's face.

"Woah," Detonation gasps, "you're Kobra Kid." He nods and looks us over, arching his eyebrows when his eyes find my injury.

"Hey guys," he calls out over his shoulder, "we've got company."

"What kind?" a voice answers from inside the diner.

"Not sure," Kobra Kid replies, watching us cautiously. "Guy and girl, don't look like they're with BLI. Guy's injured."

Detonation and I make eye contact, and I glance down at her gun, signaling her to be prepared for any event that could occur. Her free hand moves slowly to rest on her weapon as she nods subtly at me.

Footsteps can be heard inside and Kobra Kid moves out of the doorframe. An older boy with bright red hair and a navy blue jacket with embellishments steps into the open area- Party Poison.

Without a word he skillfully whips out a yellow laser gun, holding the barrel to my chest.