“Since they don't have the goods yet, now things are getting interesting.”

  Vic rose from his chair and walked toward me, causing me to step slightly to the right as he bent down and ducked under the table.

  Watching from behind, I saw him climb down, leaving only his head visible above the surface.

  “Follow me.”

  As soon as he finished speaking, he descended. I stood silently for a moment, glancing left and right before turning my attention back to the small opening. I crouched down, crawled under the table, and looked into the pit below, revealing Vic squatting under the light shining from ahead.

  He beckoned with his hand before crouch-walking forward. Seeing that, I decided to follow, lowering both feet onto the steel ladder supporting the descent.

  However, after descending only a few steps, I reached up to pull the concrete slab over the opening. I took three more steps down, crouched, and turned around. There was Vic, crouched in a passage resembling a small square pipe, holding a lantern with a candle burning inside.

  He turned forward and continued on, leaving me to crouch-walk after him into the tiny tunnel where barely any movement was possible.

  I switched to crawling along the ground. Before long, Vic, who was leading, turned back, set the lantern down, and pointed upward with his right hand.

  I nodded. He turned back, crept forward a little more, grabbed a steel ladder, and climbed up.

  A few seconds later, the sound of concrete scraping against concrete echoed. Hearing that, I crawled over to pick up the lantern and sat down in the small tunnel.

  “It's safe. Come on up.”

  Vic’s voice rang out from above. I leaned to the left to glance upward. Seeing nothing but the concrete ceiling high above the hole's exit, I moved closer, stood up, grabbed the steel ladder, and climbed. As my head emerged from the edge...

  A large parking lot came into view. Ahead, Vic was walking toward the left, where wooden and steel tables stood against the wall.

  While overhead lights illuminated the tool zone, I turned to the right and spotted a black motorcycle parked there.

  It was in complete condition, though scratched and the black paint was quite faded, it still looked functional. Beneath the bike lay a toolbox and spare parts. To the left and right were cars stripped down to their frames. Seeing this, I placed the lantern on the ground above, climbed out, and pulled the concrete slab back to cover the hole.

  Standing up and taking the lantern with me, I turned toward Vic, who seemed to be searching through a steel cabinet. I walked over to the tool zone, placed the lantern on the steel table, and waited. After searching for a moment, he spoke up.

  “Where is the stuff you hid?”

  “14th Street.”

  I sat on the steel table and looked at the abandoned motorcycle while the sound of rummaging continued intermittently. Soon, the noise stopped. I turned to find him standing beside me, placing an object from his left hand onto the table.

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  I made brief eye contact before looking at what he had just set down: a black pistol resembling an HK USP, equipped with a suppressor.

  I picked it up with my left hand to inspect it. Ejecting the magazine, I found it contained 12 rounds. Vic, seeing me check the weapon, bent down to rummage through a drawer before pulling out another magazine and placing it on the table.

  Seeing that, I slapped the magazine back into the gun and pulled the slide back to lock it, revealing one round already in the chamber.

  “They’ll be waiting to welcome you there regardless. If they use their brains even a little, they’ll figure out where you hid it. That’s why you need this.”

  I released the slide lock, letting it snap back. I hopped off the steel table and looked at my right thigh, where my old gun still rested. I drew it with my right hand.

  Vic placed his hand on my gun, causing me to look at him.

  “You won’t be using that one. Better leave it here.”

  I placed that gun on the table and holstered the one in my left hand in its place. Vic handed me the spare magazine. I took it, looked at the rounds, and frowned.

  “Just 7 rounds?”

  Vic stood with his arms crossed and said, “That’s all the ammo left. Besides, it’s better than your gun, which probably has less than 10 rounds remaining.”

  “That’s... true.”

  I looked down at my waist. Pulling my leather jacket up slightly revealed three white magazines still in their pouches on my left side. I pulled them out. Seeing they were empty, I placed them on the table and replaced them with the black magazine containing only 7 rounds.

  “Ark, you know that the moment you fire that gun, your chance of getting out of there drops to practically zero.”

  “I know that better than anyone. So...” I turned to him. “You’re not just sending me off with this, are you?”

  Vic smiled slightly and pushed himself off the table. He opened a drawer, took out a silver knuckle duster, placed it on the table, followed by two throwing knives.

  I picked up the two knives, flipped them around a bit, and tucked them under my belt on the left and right sides. Then I picked up the knuckle duster and slipped it onto my right hand. The metal, marked with scratches and signs of impact, reflected the ceiling light.

  My fingers and the back of my hand didn't look much different from the weapon. I stowed it in my back right pocket and turned to Vic.

  After staring at each other for a moment, I turned to look at the abandoned motorcycle. Seeing my gaze, he turned to me and said:

  “Dream on if you think you’re driving my bike.”

  I shrugged slightly.

  “No, just give me a ride.”

  Vic went silent for a moment before muttering,

  “Damn it!”

  The relatively quiet sound of the motorcycle engine accompanied us as we sped along the road amidst the debris of ruined buildings covered in vines in the early morning light.

  We rode under the shadow of the buildings. I sat on the back in my black leather outfit, repaired with gray cloth tied to cover the tears, my right hand resting near my gun, clad in a brown glove.

  Looking past Vic’s head as he throttled forward, both of us wearing goggles, our black hair whipped back in the wind.

  Vic leaned left as the bike cornered along the road, letting the warmth of the rising sun hit us as we drove down the middle of the street. Just then, the bike slowed down, and Vic banked into a building on the left, causing us both to disappear inside.

  He gripped the brake, slowing the bike until it came to a halt in a parking lot. I scanned the surroundings, got off the bike, and pulled my goggles off.

  Vic, pulling his goggles down around his neck, turned to me. I tossed the goggles to him, and he caught them.

  “This is the closest I can drop you.”

  Still looking left and right, I turned back to him and unzipped my leather jacket slightly, revealing a gray long-sleeved shirt and bandages around my neck beneath.

  “I didn't know you were afraid of snipers.”

  Vic hung my goggles on the handlebars before replying, “If even you barely survived, what chance do I have? Besides, you have to walk another 2 kilometers north. You’ll come out on 14th Street.”

  I looked behind me. Just then, the sound of the engine revving made me turn back to him; he was already twisting the throttle.

  “And how am I supposed to get back?”

  Vic looked forward, then turned back to me with a smile.

  “The same way you got back last night. If you’re still alive, that is.”

  With that, he faced forward, shifted gears, and the bike shot forward. I watched him drive away, turning back toward the path we had come from.

  I raised both hands and frowned slightly. But eventually, when the engine sound faded, I turned back toward the north. The next building was only 20 meters away.

  I sighed.

  “Walking it is.”

  I shook my head before heading north. The only sound was the rhythmic thud of my boots in the silence, amidst buildings that gave no reply.