The transport pulled onto the desert at oh six hundred, just as instructed. The M35 two and a half ton cargo truck roared as it tore through the desert heading for the base. The likelihood of the Aerial tracking the truck was smaller than tracking another chopper.
The refugees were set up in the back of the truck behind the cloth canopy. The refugees were slumped together, exhausted and nervous about their journey. They bounced in the truck as they traveled along the bumpy road.
Marcus was sitting near the cab of the truck, on the floor. He could have joined Lucas in the cab with their driver, but he'd taken it for several reasons. One being to make sure everyone had a seat of their own. Second, to keep Blair company on the way to the base. They'd returned to the outpost with two hours to spare. The outpost medic had bandages Blair's hand and ribs immediately, but she would need better care once they reached the base. The medic advised Blair to remain motionless throughout the trip back to base.
So Marcus sat on the floor. His back and legs reach across the gap between he seats. His left side was leaning against the cab frame. Blair's head lay on his legs, her head propped with his jacket. Her bandaged hand lay across her chest. Her eyes had been closed since Marcus slipped beneath her head.
Marcus watched out the back as the desert passed them. He still wasn't used to anything he's woken up to. The terminator's were one thing, but Marcus wasn't used to the people who weren't part of the resistance.
"Hey Marcus."
Marcus looked down. Blair was looking up at him. "Thought you were asleep."
Blair smirked. "This ain't the easiest thing to sleep on."
Marcus nodded.
"Anyway, thanks for coming after me." Blair said.
Marcus smile slightly. "Anytime."
Blair reached up with her left hand and grabbed Marcus's hand. Marcus squeezed Blair's hand lightly and looked back out the truck.