Gary wasn't anywhere to be seen, though she figured that he wasn't far behind. She took a seat at the closest end of the table, awaiting the gray-haired man for any moment.

  Soon some footsteps grow from the staircase. She looks behind to see one of her workmates pass by. Not Gary. Soon, more steps and… nope. Not Gary either.

  But, the third time's a charm as Gary turns the corner into his room, met by Amy who sits in the chair.

  “Hey, how's it ‘goin?” He asked her, traveling to the opposite side of the table and boiling the jug. As she replies, he sits down.

  “I'm good. How was the trip?”

  “The trip?” Gary asked rhetorically, folding his legs as he replied.

  “It was… it was good. Productive. We found exactly what we were looking for.”

  “That's good.” Amy replies, not entirely sure how to get the conversation going. “Say… uh… was there any trouble?”

  “Indeed there was.” Gary replies, opening up about the mission a little more. “There was a young man there when we went. He had a robot called… Sera I think it was. We had to put him down unfortunately. He was a menace.”

  “Put down?” Amy asked naively. But Gary interpreted it as her seeing through his guise. “Ahh who am I kidding.” He says. “The boy was shot in the head by his fawkin robot. The boy never saw it coming. He was confused. It really is a shame.”

  Amy had never considered something so severe.

  The anxiety of hearing about real death in proximity to them made her almost ignore a critical detail. Almost.

  “Oh. Oh God. That's horrible… did… Did you say the robot shot the boy?”

  “Yes.” Gary replies, detaching himself for a moment to make himself a drink. “Why?” Amy asked. “God knows.” Gary replies.

  The revelation disturbs Amy. But she shoves it to the wayside for now. She becomes more direct, asking Gary plainly.

  “Do you think you've been tracked?

  “N— nope.” Gary answers, looking down and mixing his drink a little faster. As he turns to sit back down, Amy can't help but notice a strain on his face. She looks at him for a while to try to figure out what it is.

  “What?” Gary asks, not liking the attention.

  Amy looks away as if she had been caught.

  “Oh, sorry. You just… you looked sad is all.”

  Gary takes a sip of his drink, his eyes drifting to the table has he swallows. Amy looks again to see he struggles to hold something back. He is successful, whatever it is he is holding back. But he is struggling.

  Amy asks him another question, though this one comes naturally.

  “Are you okay, Gary? You seem a bit more… upset than you lead on.”

  Gary listens, but doesn't look as he gives her an answer. “Yeah, well. That's just too fawkin bad. We get plenty of things we don't ask for.”

  Gary takes another sip of his drink, his eyes linger on the table in front of him. Amy ponders what he means by his comment. “What's wrong? Is it about that boy?”

  “I dunno.” Gary replies after he swallows.

  “Is it about John?” Amy asks.

  “I dunno.” Gary replies, getting up to look out the window. But he is interrupted.

  “Is it about the supplies?”

  This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Gary turns back around to face Amy, speaking with a raised tone.

  “I don't fawkin know lady! Do I look like some pretty emotional dandelion to you?!”

  Amy gauges his posture. His muscle, yet his hunched back.

  His strong demeanor, yet his subtle slips.

  “Is it about leadership?” She asks. Gary lets out a big sigh, putting his drink on his desk behind him and sitting back down for what feels like an interrogation.

  “I never asked for this.” Gary replies. “You know, in the army, what they teach ya' is to take some fawkin' orders, not dish ‘em. I have no idea what I'm doing here sister. I'm just an old man yelling at the sky.”

  “No you're not!”

  Replies Amy, totally disagreeing with his last statement.

  “You wrangled this whole resistance together into something that's starting to work! People follow your lead! They look up to you!”

  “I couldn't save that boy.” Gary replies, unable to make eye contact. “Until you folks arrived this place was garbage. My only good man was Jimbo, and Hell, he's who got me to try and resist in the first place.”

  “Jimbo?” Amy asked. Gary replies.

  “Yeah, Jimbo. That's not his real name but that's what we work with. He's about as old as me if you can't tell.”

  Amy thinks for a moment. Gary takes that moment to try and escape. “Right, that's enough questions lady. You can be on your way.”

  “Not yet.” Says Amy, incurring Gary's frustration.

  He prepares to give her a rant, but Amy gets her thoughts out just in time. “Look, Gary. You have a lot to be proud of. I don't know what it feels like to be you but I… I can imagine it's hard.”

  “You can say that again.” Gary replies, his eyes finally looking at her, his temper simmering down.

  Amy has one last question before she prepares to leave.

  “Just one last thing Gary, then I'll leave you alone. There's a million different ways we could be tracked down here, so why do we bother turning off prosthetics?” Gary raised an eyebrow at the question.

  “I don't know. That was something made up by Jimbo. Ask him.”

  He replies, getting up and grabbing his drink.

  “Right. That's all for now. Good talk now fawk off. We'll be by the gas and supplies.”

  Amy gets up right away and dashes off on a mission. Out of the museum and by one of the corners of the obelisk, she meets Jimbo and tries to cut to the point. “Hey Jimbo.”

  “Hidey-hi sister.” Jimbo greets her with. He was covered in dust and grease from being stuffed inside. He smelled like a mix of sweat and old-people homes.

  “I've got a question for you Jimbo. What's the point in turning off prosthetics if they could track us down regardless?”

  Jimbo didn't expect such a question, though as he answers, his voice makes sure that isn't known. “Ohohoho… prosthetics aye? It's a precaution. Even if they can, we don't want to give more reasons for them to find us.”

  “But… but it makes people miserable.” Amy argues, thinking of John specifically. Amy hears a digiphone call. It is quite abrupt. She hasn't heard one since the hyperrailer. The sound is almost uncanny in this place.

  She checks her pockets to realize hers is turned off. She looks up to Jimbo whose eyes are wider than a dinner plate.

  He slowly pulls it out and answers.

  “Uhh… hello?” He asked the thing, trying to rip his sight away from Amy. Amy continues to look up at him, with each second comes another layer of genuine, seething anger.

  This is the dude who says people aren't allowed to walk, yet here he is talking to the device that is the easiest to track of them all.

  The guy with the audacity to turn down other's help, only to pick up a so-called mid-conversation. He didn't even turn the ringtone off!

  “Aha… yes!” Jimbo says to the digiphone.

  Amy turns around and leaves.“Hang on! Don't go yet!” Jimbo says, putting away his digiphone for a moment.

  “I've seen enough.” Says Amy.

  “Mr ‘I am the only one allowed to get supplies.’ What a joke.”

  Amy feels his hand grab her arm. She stops and looks back to him as he pleads. “Look… just… just let me finish this phone call and I will explain everything. Our lives will depend on it.”

  Amy look him up and down, complying with maximum apprehension as he lets her go. “This better be good or your ass is on fire.” She tells him.

  Listening to the call, he covers the digiphone mic for a second.

  “Oh no. Trust me. This is not good.”