He hit the ground, hard. Feet stinging, he charged on, full steam ahead. He chanced a look over his shoulder, and saw what he wanted. Kait and Kat were hot on his heels. They both had rucks as big as his, so he was surprised they were keeping up so well.

Two blocks away -

They rounded a corner and stopped to regroup.

"You both good?" He asked, panting.

"Would we both be running like Olympic athletes if either of us were?" Came Kat's sarcastic answer.

"Just making sure, I am responsible for you two."

"Oh really?" she asked, annoyed.

"Yes." He replied firmly. He didn't want to start anything, not now, so deep in the Red Zone.

"Kat, he was just trying to take care of us." Kait said, defending him.

"Whatever," was the reply.

"Both of you calm, now. We need ideas. We're stuck in the heart of the Red Zone, and fighting out on foot isn't an option." He searched their faces for any trace of compliance with his command. Both of their faces were blank, staring at him like he was stark raving mad. Clearly fame isn't everything…

"Alright," He said pulling out a map. "Lets see… we're here." He pointed to a building. " And there's a bike shop three blocks down. We'll need a few more after that Mech blew our last ones to pieces."

"Sounds like a plan to me…" Kat said. Kait concurred with her.

"No, it isn't, not yet. What do we do when we get the bikes?" He asked, inviting input from both the girls.

"What if we head down 5th, and cut across this neighborhood to Dunham Road?" Kait asked, tracing her slender finger down the route she suggested.

"You're catching on fast, Kait. Only one flaw, Dunham was littered with scrap the last time we went down there. What's the one thing we've seen these guys do? Collect scrap. Dunham could be crawling with Skitters and Mechs. I don't want in on that kinda party… Let's keep on 5th until we hit 2nd. Then use that to cut across the clearer part of Dunham, and ride west all the way to the Evac."

Again, both of their faces were blank. "Just do what I say and we should be fine." he said, trying not to sound exasperated. Both of the girls agreed and they took off down the street. He was point, clearing the way; Kat was center, scanning both sides for the dreaded enemy. Kait brought up the rear, covering the way they had come. Skirmish after skirmish, the way to the bike shop felt like Iwo Jima to the trio. As the body count rose, they found themselves literally stepping through small currents of purple blood washing over the asphalt, and hacking their way through pile of corpses after pile of corpses. It was a gruesome sight; then again, it was a gruesome world. Katherine and Kaitlyn had been sheltered little pop stars before all this. Now, to see them was like looking into the maw of irony itself.

Kat wore a classic tiger stripe jungle camo jacket, which was slightly too big for her, a pair of frayed, worn jeans, and to top it all off, a pair of old Ray-Bans, like the ones fighter pilots used to wear. She wore a torso rig full of extra mags, a bayonet, tomahawk, and just basic combat gear. Kait was rockin' the classic civilian militia look. A beaten, and frayed denim jacket with the arms cut off above the elbow, olive drab parachute pants, leather hobo gloves, her shiny, black hair in a ponytail, and a bandana tied around her forehead. Her rig was two shoulder straps holding a couple mismatched types of frags, connected to a belt holding her canteen, bayonet, and an ammo pouch that jingled when she ran. He had a military, civilian hybrid style. He wore an old grey t-shirt that read, "I am the Infidel the Imam warned you about, I do not bring peace, but the sword." Over this he wore an unzipped ACU jacket, and a chest rig that only held important tools. He had no need for a bayonet; his weapon didn't use them. He had an old two-handed Scottish Claymore, as well as two bandoliers of 7.62 mm ammo. His hands were covered with hobo gloves as well, and he wore dark blue painter's jeans, with military kneepads, and desert combat boots he wore soldier-style. All three held assault weapons gained from months of hard combat to retake an over-run military post at the edge of the city.

Kat held the ever-revered AK-47, a large caliber for such a little princess like she used to be. She had a little trouble getting used to the idea of carrying it everywhere. Kait had a little more of a taste for American weapons, an old M14 sniper rifle rested in her hands. She had somewhere found an actual ACOG for the thing, and it made her a formidable sniper. He had followed in Kait's footsteps and scored an American weapon, an old M60, complete with box. It was definitely the largest of the three weapons, although the same caliber as Kat's AK, and the three of them all had .45s strapped to their legs.

Two hours later

The trio made their way to the bike shop; finally they breached the door and scrambled inside. They were safe… for now. There was a mess of bikes just littering the shop floor. Kat walked over to the bike of her choice, a banged up old Harley. Kait picked the most practical bike she could, an almost new looking Supercross bike. The two gassed up and straddled their new bikes, waiting for him. He took his time looking at all the bikes, until finally he saw one he liked. It lay underneath two other Harleys; he was surprised to fid it all gassed up and ready to go. He picked it up and straddled it, a smooth, black, Sports bike. The Trio was enjoying the look and feel, and just imagining the capabilities of their new bikes. The enjoyment halted abruptly though, because the worst wet blanket ever came down on them, reality.

They remembered they were still in a bike shop in the Red Zone, probably surrounded by Skitters and, of course Mechs, because where there's a Skitter, there's a Mech. Their stomachs dropped into their feet as they watched the loading door at the back of the shop get thrown open, revealing the last thing any of them wanted to see, two Skitters. They stood seven feet tall, on six legs. As they moved, the sound of the plates in their olive drab exoskeletons clinking together could be heard. One clicked its mandibles, while the other let out a small, guttural growl. They stared for a moment, with their cold black eyes… Quicker than a flash, both lunged at the trio. Equally fast, he drew his .45, and gunned the leading one down, while Kait stabbed the other with her bayonet, through the mouth, like he had taught her.

Kat stood, frozen in place. Her heart was racing, and her mind whirled with thoughts. He noticed, knowing what it was like to be in her position. It was the first time she'd seen one up close, and she was scared senseless. Her eyes traveled up and down the gory mess in front of her as she tried to keep her emotions in check.

"Hey." He said. "Don't look, it only makes it worse…" Nodding slowly, she only kept staring. It took Kait full up grabbing and shaking her to get her to stop. "Let's go." He commanded. Kat and Kait obeyed, mounting their bikes. The trio started up their rides. Revving the engine, he said, "Hang on ladies, this is were it gets fun…"