"It's a great pick up truck really," Lloyd grumbled, laying flat out on the back three seats. His head was propped up on his aching arms. Both slowly getting pins and needles. And he was also rather naughtily, forgoing of the seat belts to get full relaxation priveledges as Zane crossed the State line. "Have we got enough time to stop somewhere and get a travel pillow?"

"Thanks, and no not yet," Zane said, smiling sincerely in the rearview mirror. His foot still firmly on the gas. Never stopping, looking back every so often with a cautious frown etched onto his usually stoic face. "A few more miles and we can stop to rest."

"A motel?" He was dubious as to what a few more miles meant. In Zane's head that could mean a thousand, or until the truck ran out of gasoline.

Zane shook his head, not a hair moved from the stiff army style he favoured. "Your leg will more than likely need cauterising and suturing to prevent infection. Therefore, we need a pharmacy, dressing packs, saline, steri-strips and catgut-"

"It was only a garden fork?" Lloyd shuddered at the terms afforded to suture equipment. "Can't you just use steri strips this time?"

"No, shears actually and they went through the muscle, a deep tissue injury. It will need deep cleansing and suturing."

"Really?" He whined.

"A rusty pair fork," Zane reasoned. "Better to sterilize and disinfect before it becomes too hard to treat, otherwise your leg-" he frowned. Luckily the field dressing still held and the blood, although seeping through the expanse of cotton wad wasn't pouring out. Lloyd had it elevated on the passenger seat headrest. Zane knew that the gardening tools in Wu's shed were rusted up and pitted like that old station wagon. The one that had had promptly fallen apart having made it back from Santa Carla in a few pieces.

Another troubling thought to niggle in Zane's overly complicated mind. Tetanus...

Hopefully, Lloyd had kept up to date with his inoculations when he was younger. Zane hoped to anyone that would listen to his silent prayers that Misako hadn't missed any of those boosters...Otherwise, no, he refused to think of the what-ifs. To be fair and quite rightly so, Lloyd really needed medical attention, but he feared that if they stopped, it wouldn't be too long before they had unwanted company.

Especially now since they had waged war on the three. One of whom had only been protecting the woman he loved.

But typically. The sight and further scent of iron-rich blood tainted the air. Lloyd's blood was all over Kai, Cole too. Both got the smell and were driven wild with it.

The conversation had gone stale. Or more precisely, it had run off the tracks. Lloyd needed a change of conversation otherwise Zane would become panicked and everything would be taken far too seriously. Even down to how he would be sutured or how Zane would neglect himself in favour of looking out for Lloyd.

Taking a deep audible breath in, Lloyd shuffled onto his side to see Zane's anxious visage staring back at him. "So tell me more about Pix then? It's been ages since you've mentioned her."

"That's because I was giving her space." Zane reached across and scooped a photo wallet from the glove box of his Dodge pick up. He flipped it open and a few five or so pictures cascaded down in the clear plastic cases.

"She's the one with silver hair?" Lloyd queried, taking the photo wallet to observe the pictures better. Zane nodded. "I like the colour." He grinned.

Pixal or Pixie was one of those specially made android females. She was built, to make the world a better place. She, unlike Zane; had been created by Borg tech industries. And rather than having the crappy synthetic hair that most android females had, she had opted for her own style. To break the mold further, she purposefully bleached it, then had it dyed silver-grey. Now, it matched the natural components under her synthetic skin.

"She was created, similar to me, in a sense." He intoned. "My father created me as an adult male, capable of human feeling, love, emotions and fears. Pixie, however, she was a one-off. The blueprint that could have created many more in her image."

He sighed contentedly, smiling as he thought about her and their times together.

"He worked for Cyrus Borg, as his next in command. But Borg had delusions of grandeur, his ideas were extreme."

Lloyd was intrigued. Eyes motioning for Zane to continue.

"The plans seemed far-fetched and forced. It created tensions between them and the stress eventually caused health problems. My Father went his separate way and Borg continued on with his plans."

"What happened with Julien, uh, I mean your father?" He corrected. Having only known Julien since he'd quit working for the once millionaire known as Cyrus Borg.

"Cyrus wanted to create androids that would double up as soldiers. Mindless drones, my father called them. They could be programmed to kill with a simple code. But my father was not that type of man, he always believed that we were built to help, not harm, and, he did not want to be part of it." A simple shrug of his shoulders. It had been a troubling time for him and his father, an upheaval that meant they had to move from the city to the middle of nowhere in the cold north. And the reason for that...Zane was supposedly a prototype like Pixie. "He had made Pixal before the power for hunger and greed took him."

"And now?"

"Last my father heard, Borg went out of business. But I rather think he is operating under the shadows. Borg never seemed the type to give up on an endeavour. No matter how crackpot it seemed."

"Do you think he still makes androids, or just parts?" He was still looking at the picture of Pixie. Lloyd thought that the hair colour chosen made her looked washed out in appearance. But he knew that Zane had loved it. Heck, Zane had loved her no matter what colour hair she chose, in fact he loved her too much. At one stage, he was besotted with her and spent every waking moment with her in his room.

When he wasn't training...

Hair colours, Zane wasn't wasn't much fond of the blonde, only because Pixie got far too much attention from other guys. Still, despite the additional attention from other men, she had only ever had eyes for Zane.

"Like I said, my father lost contact so I have not the faintest idea because only the big companies end up in the broadsheets."

Lloyd felt the truck slowing down. The sound of the indicator coming on and the banking to the right meant that Zane was either pulling off the interstate to get food or fuel or both. "Are we stopping?"

"Momentarily." He said, checking his side mirrors before pulling off the road, Halting to a steady stop by a diesel pump. "Gasoline is running low. My mistake, I had not filled the tank before setting off." He switched off the engine, hopping out.

Lloyd wound down the nearest window to speak with his brother. He didn't care about the strong scent of diesel wafting in, it reminded him of home, way before all this shit had kicked off. Back when they'd all go to the nearest gas station to fill their tanks for their motorbikes or perhaps with their bigger vehicular toys. "Zane, are you alright?"

"Define alright?" He unlocked the gas cap and placed the nozzle. He was far from all right. This had been the night when everything they had ever fought for had come crashing down. "I am sorry, it has been a long night and it is far from over."

He shrugged. Lloyd really was concerned for Zane. Taking this all on his shoulders and being the responsible one, having to think on the fly. "It's fine."

He took a glimpse around himself as he stood ut in the open. The gas station was open inside, and there were the odd few patrons going in to eat at the adjoined cafe. Zane didn't want to risk staying here for too long. "Would you like any shop bought beverages, we still have four hundred plus miles to go before we get to Pixie's house?"

"No thanks," he muttered. Then, thinking about it, he turned to the window and gazed straight into Zane's cyan blue eyes. "Well, actually, some Twizzlers would be nice, maybe a Slurpee?"

"Of course. Painkillers too?"

He nodded at the most important. "Zane? We can do this together can't we?" Lloyd asked, unsure. He didn't want to be left alone anymore. This night had shaken him to the core. Non more so than this escape from what was once their family home.

"We can. But we need a long-term plan. A place to stay, somewhere safer. Pixie cannot accommodate forever."

"But the people back at home? We can't just leave them."

"You are referring to the citizens?" Zane replaced the nozzle and screwed the gas tank lid closed. "You want to oust them? The media would have a meltdown? We would be on the run from them too, not to mention the authorities?"

"Why?" Lloyd heard the all too familiar sound of the car doors being locked as he lay inside.

"We know them. So, the authorities would come to us for answers." Zane said walking off slowly, but not before glancing back at the car with a concerned glance at the sole occupant. "Put the windows up Lloyd. I will be back in a few minutes."

No more than three hours later and Lloyd had woken up awkwardly. The rumbling of deep tread tires were battering the asphalt, and the sound could be heard clear as day through the upholstery in the pick-up. It was a relaxing ride really, the only thing that woke him was the continued crinkling of the paper bag on the front passenger seat and the deep aching throb that resonated through his injured thigh.

Intermittently he dozed off, only coming back round with the sounds of a car door being closed and locked again.

Minutes later.

"We are here," Zane mumbled, opening the back doors. The heat was already feeling a little warmer, more humid too.

"Pixie's, already?" Lloyd mumbled, wincing as Zane assisted him to stand. The colour slowly draining from his face when he bore his weight on his injured limb.

"No, this is a motel," Zane replied. He had managed to put another couple of hundred miles on the clock, literally driving through the night to gain as much distance as he could. So much distance that up ahead the sun was beginning to rise, meaning he had been driving for three hours going 70 since he'd filled with gas.

"Come on, we need to treat your wounds," he said, grabbing the paper bag from the front. His worry mounting when he realised Lloyd had an elevated temperature. "I have paid for the room for a full night. Check out tomorrow at 6am."

"Mmhm," Lloyd nodded, happy to be out of the stuffy truck. "So uh, where does Pixie live again?"

"Luna Bay. Named because of its waxing crescent moon shape." Zane supplied. "Close in location to Santa Carla."

"So, a beach trip?" Lloyd grinned. "I can check in with those two comic book dorks?"

Zane smiled. Quickly and effortlessly, he unlocked the door and, ignoring the shabby shit curtains he hauled Lloyd inside before whacking the AC on to lower the room temp to 21. "If that is what you want, I am sure we can arrange that too."

Thankfully this was a double room. Lloyd could have the entire bed to himself while Zane worked on the wound. And so, he tirelessly began.