The heavily-rusted sign over the garage read "HAL'S AUTO REPAIR", and the address above the front door, which read "462", was missing bottom half of the 2. Spraypaint coated the lower half of the decaying brickwork on the ground floor wall.
Hard Drive hoisted Fetus over his shoulder and jumped out of the car without even turning it off. He bounded over to a metal table, clearing it off in one sweep. "Take them out!" he commanded, pointing to the plugs in her arms. "I don't want it arcing!"
While I worked, Hard Drive tore a defibrillator out of a box on the wall, and it hit me—every Scavenger had a backup pad. This was Hard Drive's.
Hard Drive touched two fingers to Fetus' neck, then handed me the defibrillator and started performing CPR.
"How do I use this?!" I asked.
He shook his head. Between compressions, he gasped, "Can't…on a heart…that isn't…beating!"
We never got the chance. We tried for over an hour to bring her back, and in all the years I had known him, I had never seen Hard Drive weep before.
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"I can't get back to the tunnels. We have to find a place to crash." Hard Drive said when the top se…Time to Get Lost
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