Dr. Lorne and her assistants soon erected a workshop where they worked to repair and revive the 12V Jeep and Escalade. After a couple of hours, with no more intrusion from any more rogue insects, the engineers restored full functionality back to the Jeep and the Escalade. They had been reborn and ready to use.

  Beneath the shimmering LEDs inside the gargantuan garage, the kid’s vehicles bristled with activity as work continued and modifications were made according to Dr. Lorne’s specifications. Engineers tied down more doll house furniture. They bolted down tables and walls to contain a small infirmary for emergency surgery. Thumbtack hooks held netting for spare seating. Pillowcase scraps were tied and stitched together as safety harnesses. The dashboards were surrounded with railing and seating for the command team.

  Each vehicle sat roughly five thousand if they crammed in—hat was enough space to hold the entire population of Dome 101. There was even extra space for storage inside hanging racks built into the undercarriage of the vehicle where extra food, magazines, and tools would go, among other items they needed for resettlement. Most importantly, containers were constructed to hold the dome’s fabrication machines.

  On the dashboard, or the command deck, as they called it, Beau and Tessa oversaw the installation of their command seats and the control stations crafted from the components from Dr. Gerben’s cellphone. It was mostly all Dr. Lorne’s work. It was all very simple, but it allowed the command team to view LIVE camera footage around the perimeter of the vehicles as well as pilot the vehicle using simple touch controls.

  “Keep those solder points tight,” Dr. Lorne said, instructing one of her engineers. “If we lose signal, you lose your rations for the week,” she snapped, sleeves rolling past her elbows. Her face was streaked with dust. She directed two apprentices who recalibrated the wall-mounted touchscreen.

  “The Jeep’s more responsive now,” Dr. Lorne muttered to Beau and Tessa. “But the Escalade’s got better power load distribution. Probably a better bet for cargo and safer for children since it’s naturally enclosed. The plastic is stronger.”

  Beau glanced up at the garage door. “What about the garage door? Can we open it? It sure would be easier than trying our luck through the corridor and into the back yard.”

  Tessa pointed to the far wall. “Scouts found the garage door controls. It’s right there.” Beau followed her gaze. A dusty red control box loomed above them made of solid steel.

  “Can we open that?” Beau asked.

  “No,” Dr. Lorne said.

  “I guess that answers my questions…we stick with the original plan, then,” Beau said. “Through the back doors and across the backyard. How much longer do we need to prepare?”

  “Not long,” Dr. Lorne said.

  Assistants used cranes and carefully lowered thick braided copper cables into the ports on both vehicles. The Jeep’s battery glowed first—a single red light pulsing to green, then the Escalade.

  Everyone stopped what they were doing, cheered, and hugged each other as powering up these vehicles was easily their biggest victory since bombing the mantids.

  Meanwhile, gunfire echoed every few minutes across the garage. Sometimes it was a rogue spider. Often, it was roaches. None of them survived. The militia was sharper, meaner, and quicker at engagements than before thanks to the experience they’ve gathered thus far. The bugs often died fast and ugly, swimming in pools of their own blood.

  In a moment of pause, Beau and Tessa climbed into the Jeep’s front command station. They stepped lightly around the hand-wired dashboard and settled into their bolted down seats where they would lead their people away from Dr. Gerben’s mansion and toward their new home, wherever that may be.

  “You think this’ll work?” Tessa asked.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  “Hope so,” Beau said.

  She ran her hand along the edge of the touchscreen which flickered with green diagnostic lines. “We’re going to load the entire Dome 101 population inside these vehicles and just drive across a war zone?”

  “Sums it up. It’s our only hope.”

  Tessa looked at him. “Then what?”

  “What?”

  “What after? Where do we go? You’ve been avoiding that question.”

  He turned toward her. “I don’t know. We’ll find a place with clean water. We build defenses. We hunt. We take the fight to the bugs to protect ourselves. I don’t know what’s out there.”

  Her brow furrowed. “There are too many unknowns on the outside.”

  He met her eyes. “I know.”

  Beau eyed a pile of discarded dollhouse items in a pile on the ground, the ones they couldn’t use. There were bright pink tea sets and floral print canopy beds snapped in half.

  He used a rope, slid down to the concrete, then wandered over and plucked up a ridiculous lavender tiara from the pile and turned it between his fingers. Tessa followed him. He sat the tiara on his head, looking proud. He wanted to lighten the mood with his friend. “How do you like the attire of a true warlord?”

  Tessa snorted. “Are you planning on ruling over a kingdom of stuffed bunnies and dolls held together with glitter and glue?”

  “Maybe I am,” Beau said. He shifted the tiara on his head so it fit better. “All of my subjects must kneel before the ruler of the Bedazzled Kingdom.”

  Tessa laughed, loud enough that one of Dr. Lorne’s assistants glanced over at them, before continuing his work.

  Beau struck a regal pose, then reached down and picked up a cracked pink teacup the size of his body. It was surprisingly light. “We could throw a summit and discuss the geopolitical future of Candyland. They’re upset about shortages of skittles and chocolate bars.” He pretended to take a sip from his giant teacup.

  “You’re insane,” she said, grinning.

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

  Tessa moved to the pile and nudged a miniature velvet loveseat with her boot. She picked up a heart shaped vanity mirror and held it up between them. “Tell me, your majesty. Who is the coolest girl of them all?”

  Beau leaned in to look.

  “I’m a punk rock princess,” she said.

  “Or a rebel spy,” Beau said. “I know your secret plans.” Beau gave out a horrifyingly bad evil laugh.

  “You’ll never know my secret plans.”

  Beau examined her, like trying to solve a case.

  They circled the pile of junk props slowly. Tessa tossed a frilly chair cushion at him. He caught it, smirked, and chucked it back lightly, just enough to brush her shoulder.

  “Careful,” she warned. “I’m trained in hand-to-hand combat.”

  “You’re no match for me, rebel scum.”

  The moment lingered.

  Tessa looked down at her hands. Then she scoffed. “We’re supposed to be military commanders killing giant bugs. We’re being idiots.”

  “Yep. All the intelligence of a two year old.”

  She shook her head, smiling.

  Beau lifted an eyebrow. “I call this strategic morale-building with a good friend.”

  Tessa rolled her eyes, but her grin softened. She stepped closer and briefly pushed past him. “You want to keep pretending like we’re not completely doomed? The outside world could be an even bigger nightmare than inside.”

  “That’s the risk we have to take,” Beau said.

  She reached down and grabbed a plastic wedding cake topper—two figurines, arm-in-arm, snapped off at the base. She held it up and tilted it toward him with a smirk. “Think they could ever make it work in a big dangerous world like ours?”

  He took the plastic couple from her gently. “They’re going to need plenty of machine gun ammo.”

  “Alright, the show’s over. Time to rally the others?”

  Beau nodded. “Yeah.”

  They fell back into a rhythm they both understood, working together to get out of Dr. Gerben’s mansion so they could finally live a free life beyond the walls of the compound and the dome they once called their forever home.