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It was supposed to be a simple "smash and grab;" they were supposed to just snitch a batch of supplies from a half-abandoned SCARECROW outpost on the fringe of Zone three. It was supposed to be so easy that only two of them were needed, but somehow, the information that Dr. Death-Defying had received about the outpost was wrong.

This was no half-abandoned station on the fringe of the fringe of civilization, a remnant of earlier military infrastructure. This was a fully functioning intake center for the reclamation of Zone-tainted youth with a full complement of Draculoids and a SCARECROW guard unit. This was a place where struggling Tumbleweeds blew in and "reeducated" citizens were carted out in trucks back to Battery City. This was fifteen sights trained on them before even quick-draw Poison could have pulled his piece.

They tried anyway, because Dr. Death-Defying had asked it of them. Jet Star knelt in the bed with the bazooka braced again the hood, and Kobra rammed his pick-up right into the gates of the station. Once he no longer needed to keep a hand on the wheel, Kobra pulled out a second gun and fired out both windows. He had some protection from his helmet and the doors, but he knew that it wouldn't last.

As Draculoids poured out of the sandy building, Kobra hoped that some of the inmates inside might bust loose and come to their aid, but it was a faint hope amidst the flying blasts. Jet Star eventually gave up on the bazooka, and resorted to his own sidearms, but he was more exposed, in the back of the truck, and he went down soon after.

None of the good guys emerged from the station, and Kobra knew that the game was up. He made a split second decision and then jumped out of the cab. Firing wildly, he raced for the hole they had made in the outer fence, for the relative safety of the desert. It was likely a suicide mission, but there was a tiny chance he could get away – could go get help.

They were miles away from the diner, and Poison and Fun Ghoul were supposed to be on a mission of their own, hitting a half-buried armory in Zone four. But maybe one of the other gangs was close, like the Yellow Zombies, or the Flash-Bangs. They had both been sighted in Zone three recently, right? He couldn't properly remember.

Kobra barely felt the first shot to his back, but the second brought him crashing down to the cracked asphalt. As he tried to catch his breath, Kobra hoped that Poison and Ghoul's mission had gone as planned, and that they and the girl would be alright. Then the dusty world around him faded out of view.