It was strange to be back in the ring after three years only to quit on the day before the next match, but it was probably the best reason to quit. When they were out of the wasteland, Jeff and Matt were going to do their damn best to get into the real deal just like when they dreamed of before the Blast. They haven't spoken about it yet because those dreams were long forgotten, but now there was a glimmer of hope. Jeff needed to be in a ring with a crowd chanting "Hardy, Hardy, Hardy!" He shoved the thought from his head. First, he and Matt needed get out of the wasteland alive.

Matt.

That guy survived the Blast, watched his parents die, and then had to deal with his little brother's recklessness and bizarre life choices while trying to survive a wasteland himself. Matt had every right to turn his back on his brother for his own survival. Jeff didn't know what he did to deserve his older brother, but more than once, Matthew Hardy saved his life and hopefully he was going to repay that by getting out of the wasteland and living a better life in society. He also needed to find a way to pay the Sanguine Wanderers back for not only saving their lives, but giving them a possible chance of going back home.

That Alexa Bliss, though.

Jeff could hear the gentle smile on her face when she was talking to Jonathan Macowitts and he didn't know what was worse: her smiling before, during, or after a beat down. How did someone so sweet, so bubbly, survive the wasteland? It almost unnerved him to see a 5' 1" woman smile while beating the ever loving crap out of someone and being cute about it. When he saw Jonathan's black eye, he pictured the blonde smiling as she delivered the right hook. It was almost disturbing. He only hoped she wasn't smiling when she had the wrench.

Once the duffle bag was packed, he picked it off the bed, and walked out of his room to his brother standing by the counter, gazing to the living room that only had the couch, coffee table, and the larger dining table that no one used. This was Jeff's third home in the wasteland since their original home had too many painful memories and he needed to leave his last home because Matt insisted on keeping an eye on him through the three years.

"This is it," Matt murmured. "We're leaving. We're…getting out of here."

Jeff placed the bag down, joining his brother's side. "Got your documents?"

"I almost burned them a few years ago," he mused, crossing his arms. "Thought I wouldn't need them anymore, but yeah, I do. You?"

He nodded. "Yep." He walked to the kitchen, but found their small stash of canned food was cleaned out.

"Already have a gallon of water and food," Matt explained.

He looked at him. "Is it enough?"

"They said they have more than enough."

There was a knock on the door and Matt answered it with his own bag in hand.

"Hi!" Alexa chirped, wearing a washed-out, light-pink sweater and torn jeans. "Ready?"

"All set."

Jeff grabbed his bag and joined them. "I am ready to get the hell outta here." He smiled at her. "Hey, Lex."

She beamed. "Hi, Jeff. There's room in the trunk if you guys need it."

"That's fine. We only have two duffle bags anyways and one can go in the backseat."

She nodded. "That works." She turned around as she popped the trunk open with the keys, and hopped behind the wheel.

The sun's light was starting to rise over the eerie city with a chilly breeze. The skies were cloudy, but not promising rain just yet. However, the change of cooler weather over the last couple of days was promising something was on the way.

The brothers closed the door of the broken house, leaving it abandoned once again with the garage door open for the Jeep to be freely taken. They would have offered to have the Jeep for the trip, but the Buick was already neatly packed. Jeff threw his bag in the trunk, opened it, removed the map, zipped it up again, then closed the trunk. He hopped in the backseat along with Matt and the doors closed. He handed Riley the folded map.

The Aussie lit up, unfolding it. "Oo! The sketchy as hell map!"

"Oh," Alexa said, "be careful for Larry-Steve. He's sleeping in his blanket." She pulled the car away from the curb.

The brothers looked at each other.

"Larry-Steve?" Jeff carefully lifted up the edge of the blanket, revealing a small piglet in a heavy sleep. "A…pig?"

Matt smiled. "Hey, it's a pig in a blanket."

Jeff snorted. "Good one, man. Okay. Why is there a sleeping pig named Larry-Steve?" He covered the piglet back up, looking at the driver.

"He's my pet."

He arched a brow. "Pet? In the wasteland? Also, it is a pi–" He swallowed when her glare of death locked on him through the rearview mirror with a tight frown. "He's adorable."

Alexa lit up.

"Oi, Jeff," Riley began. "I got a question: Why would people want drugs in the wasteland? I doubt the sellers 're gettin' profit on it since there isn't real money 'ere."

"Honestly, I don't know. I only worked in-state and never went near the Boarders. I wanted to ask, but some things are better not asking."

"Fair enough…. Okay, 'nother question: Why aren't there any tradin' routes up north? The Boarder is right by Sacramento and seems a lot bloody closer than other routes."

"Not much…going on there?" He uncertainly answered. "I'm not sure."

"Hmm."

After ten minutes of driving in silence, they were on the I-5N and everyone stared at the dust-covered interstate in awe. There was no going back. Doubts and regrets be damned because it was a one-way ticket. Abandoned cars were scattered along the side of the interstate and rusted beyond repair like they broke down and were never recovered or were caught on the road during the Blast.

Almost two hours passed of driving through the irradiated desert. Matt clocked out as everyone else was lost in their own thoughts. Jeff shifted in his seat, never having to sit for so long. The morning sunlight was pretty over the irradiated, Californian desert, but the dark horizon had something else in store. He swallowed as the little, red Buick continued down the interstate.

"Riley?" Alexa quietly asked.

"Yeah?" Her friend deadpanned replied.

"How does Bakersfield look on the sketchy as hell map?"

"…It's clear."

Jeff began to smell burning metal, making him sit up in alarm.

"Great," Lexi calmly replied.

He leaned to the center. "Why do I smell something burn– Oh, God!"

White smoke was pluming from the hood.

He shook Matt's shoulder. "Matt, wake up!"

"Hm? Wha–"

Jeff pointed to the hood.

Matt leaned over and his eyes snapped open, now fully awake. "Oh, shit."

Alexa smiled through the rearview mirror at the wide-eyed brothers. "Hi. We're stopping at Bakersfield for a bit." The smoke was too thick to see through and making the windshield filthy, forcing her to pull over just before the exit ramp into the town. She killed the engine.

They all sat there in disbelief as the smoke began to die down.

"I got this car checked the other day!" Alexa seethed. "The guy said it was fine for a long drive!"

"Well, now what?" Matt asked. "Look for coolant? Another car? A mechanic? We can't just leave it here. We have too many things."

"Two stay and two go?" Alexa offered.

"Sure, but who goes?" Riley questioned.

Jeff held out a hand to his brother. "Give me the gun, I'll go."

Matt smirked at him, reaching to his hip. "…I was going to ask if you were sure, but I then I'd forget who I was talking to." He unholstered the revolver, handing it to him. "Want me to come with?"

"I will," Alexa replied, all eyes looking at her. "It's my car." She unlocked the car.

Jeff shrugged, slipping the gun into his jacket pocket. "Fair enough." He opened the door.

Alexa turned to Riley. "Can you keep Larry-Steve safe, please?"

Riley nodded. "Ya know I will. Oi. You got yours?"

She smiled, patting her own hip. "Yep! We'll back before you know it."

Jeff got out of the car when she did, both closed the doors, and Alexa joined his side as they walked to the exit ramp that was feet away.

"Oi!"

They turned to Riley, sticking her head out of the window.

"Thirty minutes! Tops!…And Matt says no shady deals for this fix, Jeff!"

Jeff mischievous grinned. "Tell him I said no promises!" He continued walking.

Alexa laughed. "He is really worried about you making shady deals, isn't he?"

He smirked. "I doubt he'll stop worrying until we're out of the wasteland. Good start so far, though."

She scoffed. "No kidding. It has to be low on coolant, but it is old and never drove that fast for that long." She rubbed her neck. "I try to take care of it. Maybe…we've should have taken the Jeep."

He shrugged. "Who knows? A tire could have flown off or something."

She looked at him, puzzled. "Really."

He chuckled, shrugging. "I don't know. At least we made it to a town– or to the exit ramp of one."

"That's for sure," she grumbled.

After a minute of walking into the seemingly dead town with an archway sign over a street reading Bakersfield, they passed a shop and Alexa slipped inside.

Jeff waited outside, looking around the oddly quiet town, then spotted three people across the street, wearing miscellaneous scrap metal armor with various spikes on it, disappear into a building. He mentally cursed to himself.

"The mechanic is two blocks away." Alexa broke his thoughts as she rejoined him. "It's called Heavy Machinery Auto. We can't miss it." She began to lead the way deeper into the town.

"This place is not safe," he lowly stated.

Alexa walked closer to him. "What do you mean?" Her own voice was low. "Riley said it was clean on the map."

"Scrappers across the street just now. They were decorated with homemade spikes and metal…." His voice faded as two scrappers were nonchalantly walking towards them.

Alexa lowered her gaze when they passed, but Jeff kept his own locked ahead of himself.

One was wearing a spike on a boot and homemade, spiked gloves as the other was wearing a metal shoulder pad and spiked, brass knuckles. They were laughing about something as they passed.

"I thought they stayed away from the territories?" she whispered.

"Bakersfield isn't a territory," he murmured. His gut twisted at the thought of scrappers finding the other two stranded with a car filled of supplies, resources, and a pig. After walking straight for two blocks, he dryly commented, "Gee, I wonder where the mechanic is…."

Alexa laughed at what he was looking at.

The shopkeep was right about not being able to miss it since the massive, yellow words "Heavy Machinery Auto" were slathered on the mechanic's office wall with the garage door wide open.

They approached the garage where a car was propped on a lift and another had the hood up.

"Hello?" Alexa called.

"Yea?" A heavy-set man with a thick, orange beard and long, thin hair was wearing a dark-blue, oil-stained jumpsuit, walked around the corner.

"Hi. My car overheated by the exit ramp a few blocks away. Could you help us, please? We have scrap, too."

He gave a small nod, disappeared around the corner, and hollered, "Tuckeh!" He returned with a taller man with long, brown beard and hair; wearing oil-stained jeans; boots; a black shirt; and vest. "These two need their car towed."

"I can do that." A kind smile grew on the man's face. "I'm Tucker, by the way, and this is Otis."

"Alexa," she greeted, "and this is my friend, Jeff. We have two others waiting at the car and there is a container of gasoline in the trunk, just so you know."

Tucker nodded. "We'll put that in the truck with us for safety. Now, do both of you want to stay here? I know where the exit ramp is, so I doubt your car would be that hard to spot."

"I'll go," Jeff stated. "I don't want to worry the others if either of us don't show up."

"Understandable." Tucker took keys out of his pocket. "Let's go."

Alexa gave a small wave to Jeff, who held a hand in farewell as he followed the mechanic.

"So where are you guys from?" Tucker asked, leading the way to a tow truck parked on the side of the shop. "We don't see many newcomers or any passerby very often."

"Los Diablos."

"Ah. Should've figured."

They hopped in the truck and pulled out of the driveway to the exit ramp. Since the streets were bare, the tow truck pulled off the exit ramp where Matt and Riley were sitting beside the car with the piglet sleeping in Riley's lap.

"Is that a pig?" Tucker murmured.

"Lexi's pet…."

Once the truck was parked, Jeff got out and made a beeline for the Buick. He popped the trunk, took out the gas can, closed it, and joined the others; watching the poor Buick being towed. Once given the okay, they all climbed in the truck. Riley and Matt were in the backseat with the gas can sitting between them.

"There's a lot of scrappers," Jeff murmured, spotting another small group.

"Yeah," Tucker sighed. "They took over a few months ago, but don't worry. We're actually protected because we do work for them, so they leave us alone in exchange. Where are you four headed if you don't mind me asking?"

They were silent for a few seconds, debating to be honest or not.

"Redding," Riley admitted.

"Leaving the wasteland?" Tucker whistled. "That's a hell of a drive, but we'll be sure to get you there."

Once they returned to the auto shop, the trio hopped out and walked to the office with Riley taking the lead with the piglet on a black linen leash. They entered to find Alexa talking to a stunning, blonde on the other side of the counter with a kind smile on her lips.

Alexa jumped off the stool with a bright smile. "Baby!" she cooed, knelling down to the trotting piglet, lovingly petting it, then stood up, taking the leash from her friend. "Thanks."

"No worries."

"What an adorable pig," the woman cooed, softly giggling.

"Thank you." Alexa gigged. "His name is Larry-Steve."

She leaned over the counter, smiling at the group. "Oh, I'm Mandy Rose, by the way. Otis's girlfriend."

Jeff blinked.

Otis's girlfriend?

They heard the backdoor open, then close as Otis walked through the hall with Tucker at his heel. His gaze locked on the car's owner. "Wow. Your engine…it's-it's bad. Like…really bad. I just popped the hood and wow is it bad."

All four mouths dropped.

"You said you're headed to Redding?" Tucker looked at Riley.

"Yeah…." she murmured.

"Yeah, it's not gonna make it."

"Seriously?" Alexa cried. "I just had it checked the other day! It paid ten pounds for that check-up!"

"Well," Tucker sighed, turning to her, "either the guy lied or he had no idea what he was talking about, but here's the good news: we can get you a new car."

"How much?"

"150 pounds plus a trade in for the car," Otis answered.

Jeff found it amusing that was how more scrap that he needed to pay off the debt.

"We've got 30 pounds," Riley murmured, crossing her arms.

"We have 55," Matt added.

"65 pounds short," Alexa grumbled, "and with nothing to spare."

Jeff stepped forward. "Can we work it off or something?"

"Any of you know mechanics?" Otis asked, looking at all of them.

They all shook their heads.

Mandy tapped her boyfriend's shoulder, gestured to Tucker to listen too, and began to whisper.

Tucker shrugged at the couple. "That could work."

Otis kissed her cheek. "My peach, I love you!"

Mandy giggled.

"Okay." He locked on the group. "Here's the thing. Rain is expected soon and we need mechanical scrap from the junkyard. If you are up for it, then sure. We can work something out. We'll have you out of here in a couple of hours."

Alexa gasped. "Thank you so much!"

Jeff turned to his brother. "You and I go?"

Matt nodded. "Sure."

Tucker smiled. "Great. Want to get going now?"

"Might as well," Otis answered. "The sooner we get it done, the better, and the sooner they get back on the road. Mandy, we'll be back soon." He walked passed them to the front door, but Mandy scurried over to him to give him a goodbye kiss.

Matt turned to the Wanderers. "Stay safe."

Riley chuckled, giving a thumbs up. "No worries, mate. She'll be right."

"You two better be," Jeff firmly replied as he and Matt followed the mechanics out of the office, closing the door behind. They were led to the garage where the Buick sat with the other two cars, but abandoned.

"So what kind of parts are we looking for exactly?" Matt asked.

"Anything that has to do with machinery or auto parts," Otis answered, glancing over his shoulder to him. "If it doesn't look like an auto part, toss it. If it's rusted beyond repair, toss it. If you don't know what it is, keep it, and Tuckeh and I will go through it all later."

Jeff lightly nodded. "Makes sense."

Tucker disappeared to the right of the garage as Otis opened the back garage door to a beat-up, white, pick-up truck parked directly in front on a back street. "We'll be there for an hour or so," Tucker hollered, "and if you find other people, don't worry about them!" Something metal and wood were being rummaged around. "They usually don't do any harm and are looking for scrap themselves." He returned with a smile and a frag launcher made out of junk in one hand and a sawed-off shotgun in the other. "We'll be fine." He handed Otis the frag launcher, who chuckled lovingly at it. "It's already loaded."

"Oh, yea." Otis deviously smiled, holding it with both hands. "Okie, let's go." He took the lead to the truck.

Matt sucked in a breath. "If it's safe, why do they…?"

Jeff shrugged, smirking. "At least we're on the same side."

The brothers walked to the truck and climbed in the back with Tucker at the wheel.

Jeff looked at the shop as they slowly drove out of the back street. He wasn't too worried about Riley and Alexa because the mechanic shop was protected, they both had guns, and could also kick ass. He also wouldn't be surprised if Mandy Rose had a gun stashed behind the counter. He still couldn't get over the fact that she was Otis's girlfriend. Sure, there were a lot odd couples in the wasteland, but it's the wasteland. Love was not part of it. However, even a blind man could see how happy those two were. Bakersfield seemed a lot less stressful than the city. Yeah, there were the scrappers, but the mechanics didn't seem to mind that much.

They drove out of town into the hilly desert. The wind blew the dust around as the blue skies were clear for the time being. After twenty minutes, the grand junkyard came into view with mountains of junk and scrap of all sorts with a broken fence around it that was once meant to keep people out and the sign for the junkyard had been graffitied forever ago. They drove into the junkyard and parked in a clearing amongst the mountains of junk. Once the truck was turned off, they all got out, and immediately Jeff stretched out his back. The extra twenty minutes in the car and the hours-long drive was going to make him never want to ride in the backseat again.

"If you find parts just toss them in the back," Tucker stated, walking passed Jeff with shotgun in hand while Otis had already disappeared into the junkyard.

"I honestly don't think they need us," Matt murmured, joining his brother's side. "I think they just want to help us."

Jeff smirked. "What makes you say that? The fact they got two guys who know jack about mechanics to find mechanical parts?"

Matt snorted. "Something like that." He gazed at the mountains of junk from shells of cars to random junk. "Now…where to start?"

The younger brother began walking. "I'm going to the back."

Matt followed. "Why the back?"

"Why not?"

They walked into the depths of the junkyard and began their searches, starting with remains of cars. As the minutes slowly passed, Jeff wondered off from spot to spot; placing questionably useful parts aside and carelessly tossing useless junk away. Probably for the first time in months, he was bored out of his mind while searching for some magical pieces of junk in a mountain of junk. If he had lived near a junkyard, he would have been able to pay the debt in full. Probably. Maybe.

After what felt like he had been here for thirty minutes, but probably was only there ten for five, Jeff was starting to become bored. "If I end up getting Tetanus…." He tossed a broken, rusted chain aside. "What the hell does a 'mechanic part' look like? There's many damn mechanic–" Arching a brow, he pulled out a doll with a missing arm and an eye rolling in the back of its deteriorating head. "Creepy." He returned it to its resting place.

"Hellllloooo, Jeff Hardy!"

Jeff spun around on his heel and blood froze in his veins as he watched his brother being shoved to his knees with his hands in the air and a man stood behind with a gun to the back of his head. The other man had a grenade launcher in his hands. They both had grins on their faces, sunglasses, and dressed in black, spiked jackets and pants. The only difference was the gunman had brown hair to his shoulders and the other had short, spiky, brown hair. Jeff drew a hand to his jacket pocket, but the long-haired man shoved the gun into Matt's head, wagging a finger.

"I am the Miz," the grenade-launcher man proudly announced, "and this is my friend, John Morrison."

"We are hired to kill you!" Morrison stated as if it were good news.

"Correct!" the Miz chimed. "Regards from King Corbin. So if you want your brother to die, then I suggest pull out the gun. If not, then forget it!" He laughed.

Jeff slowly lowered his hand, glancing at Matt, who was staring at him in utter confusion and puzzlement. Oh, if they got out of this alive, Matt was viciously going to do the job for the King personally.

"We are only here for you as instructed," the Miz continued. "'Kill the other one if needed.' His Highness also said he was very surprised how slippery you are, Jeff. Even the Undertaker tried to protect you because you owe him money, too?" He frowned, clicking his tongue. "Shame." He shrugged, raising the grenade launcher with a wicked grin. "Oh, well."

Jeff's hollow gaze drifted to his brother, who stared in betrayal. He deeply inhaled.

Click.

Another click.

"What the…?" The Miz checked the launcher, then turned to his grinning companion. "John. Where are the grenades?"

Morrison frowned and snapped his head to him. "I thought you had them."

He tore the sunglasses off, revealing wide, panicked eyes. "No! I thought you had them!"

He looked insulted. "Me? You're the one who packed!"

"I told you to make sure the grenade launcher was ready!"

Morrison lowered the gun. "I did not hear you say that! The launcher wasn't even my idea! Why did you even bring that thing?"

"We guaranteed to kill Hardy!" He shouted in a single breath. "A grenade launcher is a guaranteed kill! How can we guarantee a kill if we don't have any grenades?" His voice was getting louder and shriller with every word.

If Matt's gaze could kill, Jeff would have been a corpse. He mouthed, "I am going to kill you."

Jeff dumbly, mouthed, "What?"

He glanced to the distracted, bickering morons and scrambled over. He grabbed Jeff's jacket. "I am going to kill you, Jeffery Hardy," he growled. "If we get out of this alive–"

"Just tell me that you are okay," he hissed. "Did they hurt you?"

He released him. "I'm fine," he growled, dusting off his legs. "They snuck up behind–"

"No!" The Miz cried, uncaring their leverage escaped. "This is not my fault!"

"–me…." Matt quietly finished, looking at them. "Who are these two?"

"Oh, really?" Morrison shouted. "Then whose fault is it? You always blame me! Look. I know you had your heart set on the grenade launcher, but I have a gun!" He waved the weapon in the air.

Jeff ran a hand through his hair. "Beats me, man."

"A gun. Oh, really?" The Miz crossed his arms. "Since when were you a sharpshoot?" He raised his hands with the grenade launcher. "Fine. Fine. Shoot Hardy in the head. Let's see if you can make it. Guaranteed kill. Go ahead." He made a welcoming gesture to the target and crossed his arms– passing judgment.

Jeff was about to step between the gun and his brother, but when the gun wasn't even raised, he leaned forward, absolutely perplexed.

Morrison snorted, raising a finger to his friend. "Okay. That is a lot of pressure–"

Jeff rapidly blinked. "I–Wh–Am I having stroke?" He turned to Matt, who looked like he was questioning his own existence.

"Uh, John?"

He looked back to Dumb and Dumber.

The Miz was staring passed Dumber. "John? John!" He tried slapping his rambling friend's arm to get his attention, but was waved away.

Jeff looked to the left and smirked, tapping his brother's shoulder to look.

The Heavy Machinery mechanics stopped in their tracks. Otis stripped off the work jumpsuit, revealing a black crop top and jeans while doing a weird shimmy dance, aiming the frag launcher while Tucker stood at his side with a proud smile and shotgun at the ready.

"Stop interrupting me!" Morrison snapped, waving his friend's hand away again. "You always interrupt–"

An explosion went off a distance behind the idiots, making the pair jump as dirt and pieces of scrap safely rained away from all of them.

Morrison spun around, gasped, and shot his hands in the air.

The Miz tossed his own launcher aside and threw his hands in the air. "It was not loaded because my idiot friend forgot the grenades!"

"Gee!" Morrison looked over his shoulder to him. "Thanks, buddy!"

"Shut it!" Tucker barked, having both of their gazes locked on him like scolded children. "We're going to give you two chatterboxes one chance to beat it and if we see you in Bakersfield again, we're both going to turn you into red dust!"

"Oh, yea!" Otis called.

The two geniuses looked at each other.

The Miz dropped his hands, placing his sunglasses back on. "Fine!" He picked up the useless grenade launcher.

They both pointed at the brothers. "This isn't over!" Then walked away, hissing and grumbling under their breaths.

Jeff arched a brow, watching the stooges disappear around a mountain of junk. "I don't know whether to be insulted or impressed that anyone managed to get the worst hired-hits ever."

"I think my IQ dropped…." Matt murmured.

Otis bundled up his work jumpsuit under his arm and the two mechanics approached them.

"You two alright?" Tucker asked, joining them with the shotgun resting on his shoulder.

Jeff nodded. "We are. Thanks."

"You two know who they were?"

He shook his head. "Not personally, but let's just say that I have enemies and it seems they're hotter on my tail than I thought. I don't know if they went to the shop or not, but considering they forgot to take ammunition with them and barely tried to use the gun, I'd say the girls are fine, but…." He inhaled. "It may be worth checking."

Otis began to heavily breathe.

"Then, we need to go," Tucker stated.

The mechanics turned heel and the brothers followed through the maze of junk.

Relieved he wasn't stuck looking for hell knows what, Jeff wished it ended in better circumstances. He wasn't sure if that Morrison guy was a coward or if just an idiot or both. He had been in a few close calls before, but nothing that close. He wanted to talk to his brother because his distant gaze was beginning to scare him. Jeff lightly smirked. "How much do you want to bet the gun wasn't loaded either?" When his brother didn't respond, he looked at him to find his dark gaze was locked on his feet. Jeff slowly looked down, slipping his hands in the pockets where the gun's weight suddenly felt heavier. He tried to think of something to say, but nothing came to mind.