It wasn't until five that afternoon that our group made it into Kentucky. The Civic was out front with Citrus Impala not that far behind. We gassed up at the first station we found and then were quickly back on the road, opting to skip dinner until after we'd recovered Calen. It was about 6PM when we drove into his neighborhood, both our cars causing quite a stir on the street, but aside from a few off the beat comments about Vortex's choice of paint, we managed. to avoid most of the attention. We drove around the neighborhood as if we were lost before pulling to a stop in front of Calen's house, Citrus faking catastrophic drive train failure by popping a quick release on her car's diff equipment, giving us a reason to hang around. It was about 8PM and getting dark out when a high pitched, yet lumpy sounding engine which sounded to me like it was the engine from the Bisimoto Porsche 911, in the form of a 2008 Toyota Tacoma pulled into Calen's driveway. The truck was sporting Matte red paint, ZED Racing Bodywork all around, ADD step bars, a K&C Lighting roof light bar and Motige Racing SP 10 wheels.



"This our target Josh?", Citrus asked over the radio.

"I'm not sure", I said, "could be just a relative, let's wait and...."

I didn't have time to finish the sentence before Calen stepped out of the truck. He was dressed in blue jeans, a white shirt and had a surplus Field jacket on. He had what looked like a Mac Book Air case slung over his shoulders and he covertly pulled an AK-47 out from behind the driver's side door of his truck.

"Never mind", I said starting the Civic, "let's go."

Citrus and I drove about a block to his house and parked in his driveway. I killed the Civic and stepped out with Rylar while Citrus put her car in park and killed the engine. I grabbed the second folder for Calen and walked to the door and knocked on it. Normally, I wouldn't have heard the Ak bolt go flying forward, because even as a dragon I barely heard it.

"Who is it?", Calen asked from the other side of the door. I could tell form the volume in his voice that he was probably holding the barrel of that rifle right at head level, ready to send a few hornets down range.

"Calen", I said, "it's Josh, put the AKM down and let's talk man. I didn't drive out this far just for you to shoot me in the face."

I heard a faint click and then the door opened. Calen looked hot, sweaty and ready to pass out from exhaustion.

"Almost put a slug in your head man", he said, "come inside, your friends too."

I stepped inside, Rylar and Citrus following behind me. Calen shut the door and slung his AK over his shoulder.

"Normally I'd be excited as hell to finally meet you in person", he said holding out his hand, "but every inch of me is covered in sweat and I ache everywhere, so you'll have to settle for a handshake."

"I'll take it", I said shaking it, "nice to finally meet you in person. Mister President."

"Holy hell", Calen smiled, "you really are serious."

I laughed, "always have been. Calen, these are my friends Citrus and Rylar."

"I take those aren't your real names", Calen said crossing his arms, "I'm no genius, but I don't have to be to realize that there's something serious going on here, so what brings you to my little slice of hell?"

"Slice of hell?", I asked.

"I have a stupid job", Calen said, "it's hot, sweaty, nasty work, but the trade off is 60 bucks an hour."

"Holy shit", Citrus said.

"My Dad doesn't even make that much", I told him.

"I'd trade places with an office worker", Calen said, "I found out I can work a Tig Welder really, really well and since then I've been stuck with this asinine job I really fucking hate. So again, I'm sure you came out here to do more than say hi."

I handed him the folder and stuffed my hands in my pockets. Calen opened it and flipped through it, having the same reaction as Citrus, disbelief, though his seemed to be more of a "this is too good to be true", kind of thing.

"I don't know what you've gotten yourself into", Calen said tapping the folder on his hand, "but I won't say I'm surprised. So did your conversion fail or some shit?"

"No", Citrus said, "he's got some kind of cloaker on."

"Like a Stealth boy from fallout?", Calen asked.

'Sort of", I said, "it just shows me as my human form, keeping my wings on a "Copy paste type template I assume. I don't understand all the science behind it, but until Green figures out how to work shape shifting into our gene code, the cloaker works very well."

"Cool", Calen said, "so again, why you come out here?"

"We need more people", I said, "General Morningstar needed recruits, so I gave a list of people I knew I could trust. Your parents home?"

"Nah", he said, "they stepped out for the weekend, I'm here by myself."

"I don't know if that's good or not", I said, "your 18, so you can legally join on your own, but don't you want your parents to know?"

"No", Calen said, putting it flatly, "I can't stand either of them."

"Fair enough", I said, "wanna go ahead and get out of here?"

"Let me take a shower first", Calen said, "I'll get a few things packed up and meet you down stairs."

I nodded and went back out to the Civic. The three of us waited a few minutes for Calen and he came back out dressed in a red T-shirt, his jacket and cargo pants with his AK tucked underneath one shoulder and his Mac Book over the other. He put the stuff in his truck and then climbed in. The starter awakened his engine and the three of us back out of his parking lot. The Civic was out front all the way out of Kentucky and into Tennessee, where we stopped for dinner at McDonalds.

"So what's the story behind your pickup brother?", I asked, "sounds like an expensive race truck."

"That's because it is an expensive race truck", Calen said sipping his coke.

"Your joking", Citrus said.

"Nope", he answered casually, you could tell he was tired as hell, "when I bought it, it was a complete roach. No paint, no wheels, no motor, no interior. I worked for a few months getting all the rust out, getting the interior and stuff done and then I gave it to Bisimoto Engineering. He took a weird 3 liter, turbocharger upgrades, manual 7 speed and gave me back a running truck. I've been told that it has the ability to turn my truck into a four figure monster that sounds like a good idea, but because the thing is only 2400 pounds, he stopped in the 700 range."

I smiled, "sounds like my Civic. Blowing doors of every single Rear Wheel Drive car it sees."

"What your Civic making?", Citrus asked.

"It was about 610 to the front wheels, so probably about 640 or 650 at the crank", I said, "but after I tied the Supercharger into the Turbo instead of having them in separate channels, now the Front Tires are putting all of 1,027 horsepower to the ground, so that's a little over 1,100 at the crank. From a 3.0 liter engine made for a minivan."

"You'll have to race my Hennessy Impala sometime", Citrus said sipping her coke, "that big bitch is putting 1244 horses through the rear wheels."

"My truck is putting down 790", Calen said, he grinned, "of course I'm full time All Wheel Drive."

"The transformation into car nerds is complete", I said finishing my chicken, "my work here is done."

My friends laughed. Dinner was spent discussing who would win in a race, with the conversation eventually coming down to it would probably be a tie as everyone had something going for them that canceled the other two people's advantages out. For my Civic, it was lightweight at only 2350 pounds, for Citrus is was raw horsepower and weight shift and for Calen it was 750 horsepower getting to all four corners. We drove from the McDonalds till almost 11 at night before we stopped at a best western. Against Citrus' wishes, and Calen's for that matter, we all shared the same room for one good reason, I'd spotted a Black River transport truck on the way here. Them operating in this area meant we all shared the same room, as it was a lot better than being split up and easier to kill. They let Calen and I take our guns into the room, so at least everyone was armed.

"Think we can make the Venom base tomorrow?", Calen asked.

"Probably", I said, "if we leave early maybe we can beat my girlfriend back."

"oooohhh", Citrus smirked, "a girly friend?"

"Shut it", I said, "shut it forever."

"Has she given you anything yet?", Citrus laughed, "I'm going to guess with a face like that, no."

"Shut up Citrus", I said.

"Make me jackass", Citrus taunted.

"Let's asses the situation shall we?", I said drawing my desert eagle, "I'm holding a loaded weapon, your holding nothing. Therefore, I tell everyone how it will, or will not be."

"These are my loaded weapons", Citrus said doing that arm flex that I'd seen people on TV doing when they were talking about the size of their arm muscles.

"Do they stop .50 Action Express Hollow points?", I asked.

"They bounce them back at the shooter", Citrus boasted.

"Care to test that theory?", I asked.

"I would", Citrus said, "but then I'd have to find a place to hide your body and then I'd have to get rid of two witnesses. So for now, goodnight."

"Yeah", Calen said laying back on the couch, "night."

"Night guys", Rylar said curling up in his sleeping bag.

I turned off the lamp. Shrouding the room in darkness, falling asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.