The crew blasted their sounds, a light amongst the darkness, as they headed towards the base. “Hell yeah, this is the shit!”

  The man driving said, bopping in his seat. John leans over the center armrest to speak over the crummy, blasting music.

  “By the way, I never got your name?” John tells him.

  “Call me Jimbo. That's not my name but it's what people call me.” He replies. John gives him a few taps on his shoulder before returning to his seat. “Pleasure to meet you Jimbo.”

  “Yeah, we're almost there.” Jimbo replies. John, still bopping to the music, feels Amy tap his shoulder. She was sitting still, enjoying the moment. John leans closer to her to hear over the music. “Yeah? What's up?”

  Amy leans closer to his ear. “How do you make friends with strangers so quickly?” She asks. John looks at her for a second before leaning back in. “I think I just have excellent taste, that's why!”

  The car begins slowing down and Jimbo turns down the music. “Alright you two. We're getting close now so you've got to be on your best behavior.”

  The two focused more on the outside as they slowed, seeing some sort of settlement emerge from the rainfall. As they get closer, more details become apparent.

  Jimbo removed his bandanna, revealing the rest of his face. He had a graying beard that was well groomed, and deep wrinkles on his forehead. He had caring eyes but a brutish brow ridge. A look of loss seemed to play on his face as they slowed to a more pedestrian pace.

  “You alright?” John asks. Jimbo glances at him in the rear-view mirror before looking elsewhere.

  “Yeah. I'm alright. Just got too excited for a second. Forgot that I live here.” John probes for more info.

  “Shit, is it that bad? What's the place called?”

  “Hastings.” Jimbo said. “Place of my youth and, I— well. Actually nevermind. I'll leave the details for the welcome wagon.”

  Amy looks out the window as they pass a weathered sign. The ground then felt like rubble as it translated through the tires; as if something rotted and died and they ran it over. The sign she saw read. “Route 281.”

  They came to a sweeping turn, some sort of path emerging from the homologated ground. Another turn in the opposite direction led into a straight, and a glimpse into the true state of disrepair emerges.

  They aren't even buildings. They're barely recognizable as husks. It is as if nature gained access to chemical weapons and nuked the place with acid. John was confused. The wreckage he saw was tiny, surely two stories tall at maximum in their prime. Has this place really been destroyed so thoroughly, or was there once a time where buildings were miniaturized?

  He finds it captivating. Amy can't even see them as buildings. They looked more like abstract art pieces than anything resembling a structure. But soon a definitive structure did emerge from the weather, an obelisk of sorts.

  A big, brutalist, monolith of a box made of a yet-unknown material.

  Like a mix of metal and stone. It was erected from the ground unapologetically, as if the rest of the geometry of… whatever this place used to be was mere noise in its presence.

  Jimbo parked the vehicle on the left side of the pseudo-road, in a space between two other assorted vehicles. All old.

  Jimbo pulls on a stick that makes a funny ratcheting sound once the vehicle stopped and turned off the engine. The ambiance was once-again consumed by the all-knowing rainfall. “Come on you two. Time to head inside.”

  Jimbo opens his door and slams it shut behind him. Amy hops out too, following Jimbo.

  John opens his door and steps out with them, placing his foot on the ground only to fall face first into the muddy pavement. Amy rushed to him. “Oh my God are you alright?”

  “Yeah, I am. I might need a hand because my leg is turned off.” He says, pushing up off the ground and looking up to her.

  She gets under his right arm and helps him hop along to follow Jimbo, who paused for them. He leads them to an archaic door, literally only having a door handle and some hinges.

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  Removing the object that was wedged in the handle, he opens the door for them. A near-blinding white light emanates out from it— the pair covering their eyes from the light with their fingers. “Come on in.” Jimbo beckons.

  They walk into the light, and Jimbo closes the door. Their eyes take a moment to adjust before they can see anything well enough to judge.

  The roof was painted blue, and at the bottom of the walls looked like mounds that were painted green. There was a building within the structure, fully engulfed, likely by design. It was weird.

  An archway above the entry door held up by four main white pillars. The same white was used as an accent across the rest of the building; particularly the corners, windows and other entrances.

  It didn't have a roof visible from below. It had quite a few rectangular windows clustered together and among various places. The building was small, maybe three stories max, and was a pale red where it wasn't gray or white.

  It's appearance didn't compute in John's brain, almost making him feel sick. Amy, meanwhile, seemed more interested in the walls that surrounded the structure.

  The rain was more quiet inside, though still audible. Jimbo admired with them, though he seemed more melancholic. “Have you two seen the sky above the clouds before?”

  “Yeah.” Reply the two, stuck in admiring this new… no. This old place, John realizes.

  “It's beautiful. This doesn't even compare. Anyway, follow me.” Jimbo orders. They follow him through the main entrance, the door made out of a substance they've never felt before.

  Inside felt like an ancient tomb made out of materials now lost. It seemed wrong, like they were desecrating a piece of history thousands of years old. Yet at the same time, it was a hybrid of things more familiar such as aluminum, glass, electricity and plastics. Just so different that its age was indiscernible to them.

  “Where's everyone else?” John asks, looking up at the model of a fearsome tubular creature. Its gray skin smooth, arms and legs replaced with odd geometry.

  Jimbo catches John looking at the thing. “Heh. That’s called a shark John. Scary, I know. Anyway, they’re probably downstairs.”

  Jimbo takes a seat on an eyesore of a chair. “You should go down and introduce yourself. I'm going to stay up here for a while.” John was about to ask where the stairs were, but then he saw the obvious hole in the floor which must have been a more… modern addition. John acknowledges Jimbo with a nod before the two descend down the narrow stairway.

  “You're heavy.” Says Amy, leading him down.

  “No. I'm John.” John replies.

  “John Heavy?” Amy teases. He humors her. “What? Calling me ol—”

  “Identify yourselves!” A female voice yells from the basement. The two look at each other other before Amy answers.

  “Uhh… Amy? I, uh, also have John with me?”

  “Oh, they're here!” The two heard back, followed by a bunch of scurrying around. “Okay you can come in now!” The voice replies.

  They reach the bottom, having no idea what awaits. Before them was a make-shift computer lab divided into cubicles, though the aesthetic was a far-cry from above. A large projector beamed on the back wall. The room was dimly lit by a mix of yellow incandescence and blue neons mixed with LCD displays.

  The space certainly wasn't modern either, no holograms. No ads. And no signs of solicitation. Amy asks aloud as soon as they reach the bottom. “Hey everyone, uh, I don't mean to be rude but does anyone have a set of crutches or something?”

  A lady gets up from behind a desk and rushes to them with a metal pole. She gives it to John, who stands by himself as Amy moves away.

  “Are you two… together?” She asks, giving him room.

  “Uh, no.” They both reply. The lady is surprised and goes to grab something off the center table. “Oh. Okay. Sorry. Hang on, there's one thing I've got to do first.”

  Amy and John are stationary, staring at the woman as she grabs a weird spring thingy off the table. She stretches it out and squishes it again, then crouches on the ground. She pushes the spring away from her in such a way that makes it look like it's walking away by flipping over itself.

  The lady keeps looking at it. John looks at the lady, then the spring, then the lady, then the spring. He raises his voice quite loud, his body lethargic and temper short.

  “Uhmm, excuse me? What the fuck is happening?!”

  “Oh! Sorry!” The lady says, getting up and sounding surprised. “I'm just, like, uh, hung up on my work. Don't worry. Just, sit at umm… the table for a moment and I'll prepare an introduction for you. So sorry!”

  The two sat at the table, the chairs were light but soft. They remain largely ignored by the rest of the group while the lady goes upstairs to retrieve something.

  Amy and John look at each other, soaked in the digital blue light. Their look at least answers one question the two shared. “Am I the only one who has no idea what's going on?”

  “Thoughts?” Amy asked John.

  “Weird.” Says John. “Very weird.”