John awoke quite pleasantly. Lying by the side of the indigenous figure within the exhibition he has now claimed. But he is not the only one. To his right on the opposite side of the figure was Amy. She was still deep asleep, a puddle of drool on the ground. How charming.

  He uses the figure to lift himself off the floor and to his feet. He moves to inspect Gary’s office. Up the stairs now; a piece of cake with some actual energy. He swings his way into Gary's office to see him looking out of the window, into the obelisk. Oh, wait, no. That's just his leather overcoat hung on the window.

  “Bugger.” Says John, not wanting to have to talk to the people he hasn't yet met. There's about thirty people here and he only knows six… maybe seven? John looks around to think of a work around.

  There's his cup on the meeting table, his computer seems to be off. He looks to the left to see the white board largely untouched. A few spreadsheets on there, some notes, vague plans, nothing interesting. He swings over to it and writes a note on it with a red whiteboard marker.

  “This is John, leaving to go find Crosby. Time is 8am.”

  He writes, with a bunch of obvious red arrows pointing to it.

  He clasps the head on the marker and leaves. First downstairs, then into the interior of the obelisk. His eyes are immediately drawn to the leaking hole in the roof. He sees a couple people doing stuff around the place but doesn't bother socializing. Not for any emotional reason, he just doesn't take a lot of them seriously. Or at least, this is how he tries to rationalize.

  As he approaches the exit, a couple questions come to mind. Why is there only one exit? How the Hell is he gonna find Crosby, outside, in the rain, ruins and tar, and with a useless leg? Well, he guesses he's about to find out.

  As he opens the door, the wind isn't too bad. The rain has quietened down a lot from before, as has the wind. He closes the door behind him and inspects the perimeter.

  He goes left to the street, following the outer wall of the obelisk which is faintly lit by perimeter bulbs which hum. There's nothing, so he turns the next left corner. He is met by an opening between the obelisk wall and the neighboring wreckage. Maybe it was an alleyway in a past life. He travels down it, careful to stick his crutches only on solid things. The more damp he gets, the more stupid he realizes it is to send him out here.

  There's nothing discernible, and so he turns yet another left corner. For this one it is the same deal except some pipes and wires just out of the obelisk and into the ground.

  He pays no attention to it and keeps going. At last, he is met by a vehicle of about ten. Wait, no, nine. Jimbo must have taken off to get supplies. He inspects each car, maybe Crosby is chilling in one of them. It is a no for all of them until he reaches the Versa and low and behold! Nobody!

  Wait, or is there? John notices the rear seats are folded down. He inspects further and… ahh okay there he is. That makes things easier.

  He gives it a knock on the window glass and Crosby flinches. His head pops out from within the boot and he signals to John to come inside, moving to make room.

  John opens the door and folds the left seat up to sit down. He closes it behind him, turning the shower of rain into a nice sputter on the roof. Crosby lies on his back, his torso in the boot and his legs in the cabin. John pokes his head past the seat to get him. “How long have you been in here?”

  “Fucked if I know.” Crosby replies, his head staring into the boot door with his hands behind his head. “I went for an adventure around for a while. This place beats that fucking factory anytime of the week I tell you. It's ugly as shit though.”

  “The museum or Hastings?” John asks curiously.

  Crosby replies.

  “Uhhh, definitely the museum. That is a whole load of ugly.”

  “So you think it's uglier inside than it is outside?” John asks, taken by surprise. Crosby looks back at his as he answers, forming a funny double chin. “Y’know, the outside has a certain charm to it. Like the calm after a busy day's work. The inside looks like the pride flag shat the bed and tried to wash it away with piss.”

  Crosby puts his head down, satisfied with his answer. John has no idea quite what to say as his response. And so Crosby keeps talking.

  “I love the sound of the rain man. You could never hear it very well back up the factory because the place was always busy. It was those few moments I got to rest outside or in a quiet place the rain would come back. Do you get what I mean?”

  “Yeah that makes sense.” John says, sitting in the seat normally to save his neck. “My opinion is pretty hot and cold when it comes to the rain. Sometimes I like it, other times not. Back in Detroit, me and Amy used to play in it quite a lot. That was years ago now. Hard to think about how the time has passed.”

  “You should blog it.” Comments Crosby, with no intention of being rude. John takes no offense to it. “Heh, I would, but I'm not so sure I'd like the attention I'd get from it.”

  Crosby spits some air out his mouth at the idea. The two are silent as they listen to the rain, just enjoying the ambiance of the moment.

  Crosby gets something off his chest after he thinks about it.

  “Thank you for sticking up like that earlier, that could've gone so much worse. I forgot to thank you earlier, so, uh, yeah.”

  John brushes it off. “You saved my life man, it's the least I can do. I'm just trying to do the right thing.”

  “You're doing a good job of it.” Crosby replies, closing his eyes. “A much better job than that dickhead Gary.”

  “Ohhh no.” John replies, shaking his head. “I do not envy that man's job. Try to herd these people? Me doing that? Ohhoho, fuck off.”

  Crosby leans forward. “You're thinking too hard John. You do that too much. You think that chump does much thinking up there? Nada!”

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  “You need to get to know him. He is a good man, he just has flaws like the rest of us.” Replies John, shying away from the idea of leadership.

  Crosby hawks something up from his throat, making an awful sound. He opens the trunk door from the inside and spits whatever black crap that came up into the rain, closing it again. “Yeah, well, to be honest with you John, that shit is gonna leave a bad taste in my mouth from now on. You weren't kidding when you said this place was a mess.”

  “We'll find a way man.” John tries to reassure. Crosby has a fresh comment for him. “Now, there? You're Goddamn right.”

  Rain fills the ambiance once more for a moment, though John reflects on Crosby's prior comments on the aesthetic of the place. “Aye Crosby, you do know what that stuff on the inside walls of the obelisk is supposed to be, right?”

  “No? High art?” Crosby dismisses. John is unsure if he will be able to explain it well to Crosby, though he tries.

  “Nope. Not at all. It depicts what the world used to look like before the rainfall and all of that. The sky used to be blue, and there was this bright ball that used to travel the sky called the Sun. But we can't see it anymore because of the clouds.”

  “Oh really?” Crosby asks, a thought coming to his mind. “It's still butt ugly though.”

  “I've seen the real thing in a simulation, Crosby. Trust me when I say, it is the most beautiful thing you will ever see.” John claims, his head hanging into the boot again.

  Crosby is silent for a second as he thinks before he speaks. “I mean, I'll take your word for it man. But I'm in no rush to see for myself. I have my own reasons to fight.”

  “Those being?” John inquires. Crosby considers his words perfectly again, his brain stimulated by the rain’s patter.

  “Well… I'll put it this way. I actually got to know my father, but it wasn't for long. While I was with him he would tell me about this thing called Faith. Do uh… do you know what God is John?”

  “I have a rough idea.” Says John. “He was an ancient leader right?”

  “Not quite.” Says Crosby, oddly somber. He wriggles himself out the boot and sits upright next to John, folding the seat back. “I promise you I'm not crazy. And I'm not trying to make you believe anything, I'm just telling you what I believe.”

  “Okay?” Said John, unsure how to take what is about to be said. Crosby tries to explain just as John had before.

  “God is the creator of all things. The world. The… uhh… Sun as you said. Though I always thought it being in the sky was a metaphor. But, he created everything John. And he fights against evil, which I call sin. You know how we all use the word Hell?”

  “Uhh… yeah?” John replies, listening to Crosby like he's reciting the prologue of a book.

  “Hell is where evildoers go, hence why we used it in a negative connotation. And in Hell lives the devil, who tries to tempt us into sin with the promises of temporary pleasures and drugs and bad acts.”

  “Uh-huh.” John replies, wondering what the Hell else he's going to say next.

  “Yeah, so, but the thing is John is that… well. You're not allowed to think that anymore. To practice faith. It is a sin to say God's name in vain, but honestly, while I know it's true… I say it because I'm not sure anyone else says his name knowingly anymore. I uh… are you listening?”

  John nods his head eagerly.

  “Yeah of course man, that's a very interesting story. I've uh, I've never heard you talk like that about something before. It must be a good story.”

  Crosby's face drops subtly at the reply. He is frankly disappointed, though he tries not to be. “It's a bit more than a story John, but that's alright.”

  “I understand.” Says John. Maybe not the story, but the feeling at least. Crosby moves to change the conversation. “So! Amy! When do I get to meet her?”

  John’s face lights up at the mention of Amy. “Oh, yeah! We can right now if we want assuming she's awake.”

  “So are you two uhh… you're together right?” Asked Crosby with genuine intrigue. John questions in his mind why people are suddenly asking this. “What? No. I definitely wouldn't say that.”

  “Aww, you're kidding man!” Crosby replies. “I would kill to have an actual partner like tha—” The entrance to the obelisk busts open and a thick accent starts yelling a name out. “JOHN! JOHN!”

  The two turn to look, seeing the silhouette of a short and stocky man, along with the smaller silhouette of a girl.

  “Oh shit that's Gary.” John informs, grabbing his crutch and exiting the Versa. “C'mon Crosby come with me. I actually came out here to find you.”

  “Awww, you're kidding me right?” John closes the door and heads to Gary, indicating he is in fact not kidding. Crosby talks to himself in preparation as he too leaves the Versa. “Oh fuck me. Okay. Time to be nice.”

  “There he is!” Yells Gary, happy to see John who swings towards. Crosby is sure to take his time getting there.

  “Oh, shit, ya found Crosby too! How wonderful!” Gary adds.

  John glances at Amy who is now awake, though has heavy eyes. She gives him a smile and a wave, and he returns one back.

  “Listen to me son.” Gary says as he grabs John's shoulder, getting his full attention. “It was a dumb idea for me to send you to go get ‘em. I'm not gonna make no excuses but it has been a while since I've had competence on my team, I will tell you.”

  “Not even Jimbo?” John asks, not really caring to indulge in acknowledging mistakes so much as he'd prefer making actual progress.

  “Oh, yeah he's ‘duh main exception.” Replies Gary, looking at Crosby and reaching out a handshake. “You must be Crosby. This is the little joint I got going ‘ere. Come, make yourself at home.”

  He says, all while Crosby returns a firm handshake in kind.

  “You're built like a brick shithouse!” Crosby compliments.

  “Ohh… you darling you.” Gary replies, waving the two in.

  “Both of ‘ya can look just like me. Maybe not as priddy’ dough’. I've built a gym down the hall from my office.” John smiles at the comment, Amy looks at John, and Crosby giggles as he replies. “Lifting heavy shit with our arms? Sight me up. Sick of using a MeKSUT for that.”

  “A MeKSUT? Two of ya?”

  Gray asks as they all proceed towards the museum.

  “Yep.” Crosby replies. “Good ol’ Mount Viscera fulfillment center. Such a shit hole. I would much prefer to lift stuff here.”

  Gary moves past John to get closer to Crosby. “Would ya now? Well, allow me to show you the gym. It'll be right this way.”

  The two form their own duo and head in the direction of one of the side entrances, leaving John and Amy near the front entrance.

  Amy lets out a big yawn. “Well, that looked like it went a lot better.”

  “You could say that again.” John replies, holding her hand with his free hand. “Anything you feel like doing?” They stop just before the door as Amy thinks of something. “Mmmm… not really. Have you had breakfast this morning?”

  “Nope.” Replies John. “Sounds like a plan.”