Somewhere between Waystations Eight and Nine, Ryan was walking with Sean, Cori, and Atkins again. They weren't really talking at the moment, having long since fallen silent, but it was a comfortable sort of silence and Ryan wasn't about to be the one to break it. Their mixed group of refugees and ACTF soldiers were probably somewhere under Arizona by now, if not at least a bit farther.

Or, maybe a whole hell of a lot farther.

The Hellions had taken the news about Chronos' special virus just like any group of even halfway-decent people would have: they had all hated the idea. So did he, and all of the rest of the ACTF. Sean and Cori had dropped by while he was talking to them, and Ryan had ended up introducing the two groups.

As it turned out, they'd heard about Sean from the ACTF after they'd been evacuated from L.A. when the Zoanoids were attacking. This in retrospect shouldn't have been nearly as surprising to him as it had been, since they had probably found out about him in just the same way.

In spite of the fact that no one seemed to be talking at the moment, the tunnel they were all making their way through would never really be silent. Not with this many people walking at the same time, and definitely not with walls that had been made out of steel and concrete. The tunnel was essentially one huge, long echo chamber, which really made having most kinds of conversations more trouble than they were worth.

At least, if you didn't happen to have a telepathic link to speak over, anyway.

But, for the moment, Ryan wasn't really in the mood to talk. Telepathically or otherwise. Elegen had understood, at least that was what he'd said before he'd decided to go to sleep. It was kind of weird to know that there was someone asleep in your head, but what Ryan found even weirder was the fact that he didn't find any of that weird at all.

I guess you really can get used to anything, if it just keeps happening to you, Ryan chuckled, the soft sound covered by the noise of all the people walking. Pulling another pack of beef jerky out of his pocket, Ryan opened it and stuck some of the dried, chewy meat into his mouth. The rumors about the astronaut ice cream had turned out to be true, and that had been really great.

There had only been a limited supply at each Waystation, of course, so he'd only taken one each during the two stops that their group of refugees had made after he'd found out the truth of those rumors.

Of course, having them didn't mean that he was obligated to eat them, at least not right out of the gate the way a lot of people had done. Ryan grinned, brushing his left hand over his left pocket, just opposite the one where his spare beef jerky was stored. Nope, there was really no reason for him to do something like that.

There were two packs of freeze-dried ice cream in that pocket, and he was going to eat them once their group had made it to the last of the Waystations; of course, by then he would have another one. Atkins had said that Waystation Ten was the final stop before they made it to the Alpha Site.

He was just happy to know that he would be able to get out of this cramped, monotone, thoroughly boring tunnel sooner rather than later. He was getting really tired of the place; sure, it protected all of the evacuees from being found by Chronos, and there was also the fact that he hadn't needed to transform once since he'd set foot inside the tunnel to escape with the rest of the evacuees. Still, the sameness of the tunnel, to say nothing of the Waystations themselves, was starting to wear on his nerves.

The sound of annoyingly cheerful whistling, getting more and more annoyingly cheerful as the person doing the whistling came closer, let Ryan know just who he was about to be dealing with. "Aptom, do you think it's remotely possible for you not to make a pest of yourself at every possible opportunity."

"It might be," the Zoanoid-eater said, gleefully shoving his way to the front of the group. "But not when I'm this bored and definitely not when I'm this hungry. It's been more than a month since I last ate; the least you could have done was let me drag along some of those tasty little meals on legs for this trip you dragged us all on," the last part of Aptom's rant was obviously directed at Atkins, a fact made all the more obvious by the scathing glare that the Lost Unit leveled at the leader of the ACTF.

"You're already aware of why that wouldn't have been possible," Atkins stated flatly.

"That doesn't mean I can't still complain about it," Aptom said, grinning.

Ryan guffawed. "You know, the guy's got a point. Admittedly, it's the one at the top of his head, but- Ow!" this last exclamation was in response to Aptom's fist smacking him right on the crown of his skull.

"Watch your mouth, Red," the Zoanoid-eater growled good-naturedly. "I might not be up to my usual standards, but I can still give you a good thrashing."

"Sure you could," Ryan drawled, smirking. "You might not remember this, but I'm still a Guyver."

"Knock it off, you two," Cori said, stepping between the Lost Unit and the Guyver before they could do anything more than exchange taunts. "The last thing we need is a fight breaking out down here."

"Whatever," Aptom said, shrugging with the utmost unconcern.

Ryan just kept walking, a smirk still on his face. Peeling open another pack of jerky, Ryan stuck it in his mouth and deliberately chewed it in front of the hungry Zoanoid-eater. Said Zoanoid-eater, in turn, deliberately ignored him. All in all, the arrangement worked out rather well for all concerned.

XxXxX

Pamela Starr Madden, known as Pam to the many friends that she had made since the day her life truly began, stared in annoyance at the weighted bag in front of her. It swung back and forth slowly, as if mocking all her efforts. She had been trying to learn technique to perform a spin-kick at the hanging bag in front of her, and so far she had managed to had managed to fail every single time; sometimes pretty spectacularly.

It was very frustrating.

"You should really tighten up your stance."

Pam turned, looking back over her right shoulder at a black-haired, athletic woman in a blue jumpsuit. "Here, let me show you how it's done."

The woman stepped up to the hanging bag, demonstrating a perfect spinning kick.

"I don't think I could ever be as good at this as you are, Sharru."

"Of course you can," the lady Zoanoid said, giving Pam a reassuring smile. "It's just going to take a little practice. Maybe a bit more than usual, considering where we found you, but it will happen if you just keep working at it."

Pam winced slightly, remembering again just where and how Sharru and her group of lady Zoanoids had found her.

Billy, Burt, Henry, and Rick had just managed to get themselves another girl, and they had been just about to start "breaking her in", as they called it. Their new girl had been an athletic redhead; she had also been one of Sharru's fellow lady Zoanoids: a tiger-looking lady named Ranza. A fast spin-kick from Ms. Ranza had left Billy on the floor, holding his crushed throat and coughing up blood.

When Burt, Henry, and Rick had pulled out their guns and tried to shoot her for that, Ms. Ranza had changed into her Zoanoid form. With the addition of sharp fangs and even sharper claws, Ms. Ranza had made short work of Henry. She had pretty much mauled him into submission; Henry had barely been recognizable when Ms. Ranza had finished with him.

And all while she had still been dodging bullets.

That was when Ms. Cassica and Ms. Sharru herself had shown up. Ms. Cassica had killed Burt quickly, firing toxic spines from her lower arms straight into his throat. Rick had tried to get the drop on Ms. Ranza from behind, but she had managed to surprise everyone watching when she had dove backwards through Rick's legs, punched him hard enough to drive her fist through his body, and then actually decapitated him with a single spin-kick.

All the while, Ms. Sharru had been gathering the other girls and shepherding them out of the warehouse. While the other lady Zoanoids had been dealing with the other… people that Pam had once worked with Ms. Sharru had taken Doris and the rest of the girls out to a truck parked close to the back of the warehouse. After that, they all been taken to this Chronos base.

The other girls, 'Xantha and Doris in particular were still too sick to leave the medical wing. Pam herself had only recently managed to recover enough to be released, having been admitted for detox and borderline-malnutrition along with the rest of the girls. Pam still spent time with her friends down in the medical wing, but the vast majority of her time was spent either in the gym, in the cafeteria, or on the indoor track-and-field course.

Pam wanted nothing more than to become a lady Zoanoid herself; to be strong enough to protect people like she had once been, people who couldn't protect themselves, from slime like her former "employers".