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Words would fail me in describing exactly how badly I wanted to march on Codwell that same night and knock the UWR off their throne. More people had been slain by their hand than by any other war or regime in history and the UWR was known for brutality the likes of which would make Stalin and Hitler cringe. Their absolute hatred for anyone who didn't match the "qualities" on their acceptable traits list was appalling, but, as much as I wanted to march on their city and raze it, it was time to trade my rifle for a set of keys and the combat rig for a heavy, long sleeve shirt, a winter jacket, snow boots, sunglasses and cheap Walmart watch. The flight to Firebase Santa Monica on Marine Two was rather long, and from there Barron ordered us all to take an entire month of leave, citing the need for us to put the guns away just for a little bit and get reacquainted with life. For Shelby and myself, we had a son to look after, so it wasn't as infuriating to us as it was to Trent and the others, Trent especially as his wife had been giving him the what for lately because he'd been on the front with us and not with her. When we touched down at the air port, it was 2 in the morning, and the six of us had a long drive home with not a whole lot to look forward to.

"Kayle is gonna have my head", Trent sighed as we stepped off the jet at Anchorage International. Crowds of women, parents and kids were there to greet their boys as they stepped off the plane, but there wasn't anyone waiting for us, which personally I was okay with, only people that I gave a shit about in this world were right here with me.

"Why's that brother?", Shelby asked.

"She's been pissed at me for being gone so much", Trent said, "my marriage is falling apart, and I don't want it to."

"She ain't gonna leave you', Shelby said, "she'll talk it all day long, but she'll never draw up the papers."

"You don't know her Shelby", Trent sighed, "my situation isn't like you and Alex, where our first kiss was 14 and 13 and have known each other since grade school."

"She's your wife ain't she?", Jack asked.

"Maybe not for much longer if shit don't change", Trent sighed.

"Wanna fix your marriage?", Jack asked again, "get her to join the Army."

"Then I can put her unit with us and problem solved", I shrugged as we exited the airport. The weather was slightly chilly, but over all it was a nice day.

"Kayle's not like Shelby Alex", Trent said, "she's too gun shy."

"Not like we can be of much help here then", Nitro added as we all walked to our cars, "only advice I've got for you is try to patch things as best you can over this next month while we're sitting on our asses doing absolutely fucking nothing."

"Oh with some luck we'll be back on the battlefield before the times up", I said unlocking the trunk to my 2009 Toyota Supra and throwing my duffle bag inside, "assuming of course Barron cuts us just a little bit of slack."

"He won't", Nitro said throwing his gear into the back of his midnight black Dodge Demon, "you guys wanna go to dinner this evening? I'll pay."

"Where to?", Jack asked.

"Saffron", he said, "one just opened downtown back home."

"Do you have to ask that question?", James said sliding into his Mustang, "see ya guys tonight. I'm gonna go home and play Call of Duty."

"See you bro", Shelby said as she and I sat in my car. The Supra, as I affectionately referred to it as, was a custom job, with no part having been spared from modification. The engine as fully built, heads, turbo, cams, calves, block, plugs, everything. At full tilt it was putting 1,244 horses to the road through all four wheels via a 7 speed manual transmission and a active rear end, which was a fancy way of saying a set of cogs that shifts when the main transmission does. The car was completely ballistic and could go 0-60 in under 2 seconds tanks to a tall first gear. Mpg isn't that great at 25 highway and 19 city, but I don't mind it too much. My son Lincoln loved the car, before my last deployment, I came to pick him up from school on Fridays when I was off and he always bragged to his friends about how I had the best car.

"Lincoln's gonna go nuts", I smiled to Shelby as I stuck the key in the ignition, pushed in the clutch and brought the slumbering monster to life.

"Think he'll hear us pull up to the school?", Shelby smiled.

"Not if I can keep my foot out of it", I said putting the car in first. My friends followed me as I navigated the entirely too complex Anchorage lane systems before managing to get onto the main road. Anchorage was always a big city, but it had gotten bigger since the nukes fell. With some time on my hands now, I can finally get around to explaining what's actually going on. Long story short, America is in shambles. 5 years ago, the UWR rose to power literally over night after executing a coup in every super power nation on the planet, laying siege to Russia, China, Japan, the Koreas and Iran and Saudi Arabia. The resulting army and power they were able to amass from the take over meant that they had the entire Eastern Hemisphere within a couple of days and within a month they had the world, everything but the US and Canada. Since then, Barron has met with the Canadian Prime Minister Danny Robinson to form the United American Federation. It's a step up from having to face the UWR's Nazi like war machine by ourselves, but not by much. The first attack on the US came shortly after UAF's first birthday, when the UWR detonated a High Yield atomic bomb in Phoenix Arizona, followed by 15 more detonations on the same day in several other deep south states. Following the bombs, they put boots on the ground. Some Million troops if I remember correctly. The battle of the Texas border was the longest, bloodiest battle in human history, no tanks, no helicopters, no naval support, just rifle VS rifle. The carnage ended with 2.1 million dead and even more wounded over the course of 36 days, resulting in death of every enlisted US Marine and and 450 thousand US Army Infantrymen. The area is now so toxic that I don't think even roaches can live there. People have moved north since then, because really there's no place else to go, so I've been seeing towns popping up a lot to house people, which means the construction industry is booming. Gun sales are at record highs too, despite liberals trying harder than ever to disarm us in an attempt to appease the UWR and spare us more nukes.

I was at that battle, and while I, my wife and everyone I know who survived has several bullet wound scars, the loss and the pain wasn't even the worst part. The worst part came when we learned we were going to see the revival of the fucking hippy movement, the same shit that caused us to abandon the Vietnam war. They showed up to the effort to clean up the bodies of both sides and give them proper burials and started protesting with typical hippy bullshit, but they kept their distance, at least at first. Soon they got more aggressive, Molotov cocktails, the occasional grenade they got off a corpse and on rare occasions we'd get people taking pot shots at us with handguns. The potential for a massacre was there, and I must have stopped 50 guys who wanted to straight machine gun them. We're not even officially at war with the UWR either, after ripping America apart the way they have, the liberals are still too fucking gun shy to let me do what I'm trained to do.

I sighed, leaning against the window of my car as I pulled to a stop light, six other people were in front of me and most of them were on their phones. It was gonna be a long day.

"Get off your phones and fucking drive", I growled, "Oh I do so miss civilian life."

"Yeah you and me both", Shelby agreed.

"You think Congress will ever man up and give us a former declaration of war like the Canadians did after one nuke?"

"Probably not honey", Shelby sighed, "like Barron's fond of saying, the idea of mounting an offensive in a liberals mind triggers a fresh and unplanned piss."

"Makes me wanna storm the congressional floor and call them out in person", I sighed idling the car to the edge of the intersection as the light turned red again, "why are people so stupid?"

Shelby shrugged, "I'd like to blame Eve for it, she gave Adam the apple and shit and now everything is fucked up, but all the nut jobs would say that the new world order is putting shit in the water."

"UWR probably killed everyone in the new world order for being undesirables", I joked.

"Probably", Shelby agreed.

It was long drive out of the congestion of Anchorage, but thankfully we beat rush hour. On the outskirts of the city, Nitro got on the CB, "Hey guys my Demon just threw the fuel light, how long till the next station?"

"Two miles", Trent answered, "can your thirsty motor hold off on emptying the tank for just a little bit?"

"No", Nitro said, "it's a 7.0 liter Twin turbo V8."

"Stupid question Trent", James laughed.

"Says the guy in the 5.0 that gets 8 gallons to a mile", Trent returned.

"My fuel economy is better than that. I get 1 mile per 7.9 gallons, get your facts straight before you run your mouth."

Shelby laughed, "it's gonna be a long drive ain't it?"

"Probably", I shrugged.

A few minutes later, we pulled into the gas station, which at this time of day, was almost completely empty. It had gotten colder since we landed, with the gauge on the dash of my car saying it was 27 degrees.

"I miss Texas, I miss it soo much", I said digging my field jacket out of the back of my car, "why is it 27 degrees outside?"

"Because it's Alaska", Shelby said, "do you want me to get you anything from inside?"

"Nah", I said, "I'll fill up the tank and get my own stuff."

Shelby grabbed her coat and went inside while I filled the Supra's tank with ultra premium ethanol free gas that ran me in at $5 a gallon, and when the tank was full it came to damn near sixty bucks. I sighed at the price gouging as I capped the gas tank, moved the car to the front of the store. The inside was largely empty minus my crew and the employees of the station with a few truckers mixed in. They had the heat on full blast, so it was nice inside. Burno Mars That's what I like was softly playing on some unseen speaker system and the smell of roasting coffee and pizza in from a mom and pop shop next door was filling the air, so of course I found myself wandering that way. It didn't look like they were open, but that didn't stop the old lady behind the counter from noticing me.

"Do you need somethin' hon?"

"Are you open?", I asked, "I haven't eaten anything in a couple of days as I was deployed and the Bucee's is full of junk food that I don't want."

"We're not open but I think we can make an exception", she smiled, "what'll you have?"

I stepped inside the restaurant fully. It was very small, with four rows of booths split by a wooden divider that ran down the middle of the room. I guessed that at peak hours they could maybe seat 20-30 people and the place had a very strong 1950's pizza joint theme to it, which I guessed must be modeled after wherever the owners used to eat when they were kids. The menu had a lot on it especially for a pizza place. Anything from your basic cheese to ultimate supreme was available and they even had a build your own option, but of course I already knew what I wanted.

"Give me a medium, stuffed crust pepperoni and sausage", I said, "and a bottle of water please."

"Anything else?", the old lady asked.

"No mam", I said.

"$5.96."

"The price on the menu is $12?", I told her.

"We have a discount for former and active military as a thank you for servicemen", the woman said.

"Oh", I shrugged, handing her the money, "thank you."

"Give me about 10 minutes to fill the order", she told me disappearing into the kitchen. Rather than linger at the counter, I exited to the Bucee's and started glancing around at all the little souvenirs that they had on the shelves, truck stops and large gas stations always had them. I was cross country a lot when I was growing up, back then my Dad was still Infantry so we moved around a lot, which meant I'd been to my fair share of large gas stations and owned and broken more than my allowance of gas station toys, mostly because that was all we could afford. I still have a stuffed orange turtle that rides around in the Supra that's been with me on every deployment that I won out of one of those try your luck machines, the ones with the claws that are rigged so you lose every time, it was the best round with the most insane luck ever played on one of those machines.

"Made your decision yet brother?", James asked walking up to me, he had a sprite Zero and a bag of pretzels in his hands.

"Pretzels?", I asked.

"What?", James asked, "I like Pretzels."

"We've been living off nasty MRE's for the past 5 months and you wanna get a bag of salty, dry ass bread sticks?"

"I'm just weird like that Alex", James shrugged, "you know I like my salt."

"Freak", I said shaking my head.

"Daddy's boy", James returned.

"Fuck you James", I joked.

"Fuck you Alex", James said walking away, 'Ain't like you're paying for my salt addiction."

"No but the American tax payers are", I called after him, "they pay our salaries. And I still have to pay Tax, so yeah, I'm paying for your damn bag of dry ass no taste bread sticks."

"You guys just got back from deployment didn't you?", the black guy at the register asked.

"How'd you guess?", Nitro asked approaching the counter with a honey bun and a cup of coffee.

"The language", the man laughed, "Army boys are the only ones I know who can make cussin' an art form."

"You should hear Alex's old man", Nitro said, "that man can spit venom with the best of them."

"I don't doubt it", the man laughed as Jame's paid, "what unit you all serve under?"

"Can't tell ya brother", Nitro said, "all I can say is officially the unit don't exist."

"I hear ya", The man said ringing up Nitro's stuff, "they had my Granddad doing shit when he was enlisted he says he still can't talk about."

"Plenty of that goin' around nowadays it seems", I commented, "we just got off deployment, up at the DC front."

"I heard that place was a toxic hell hole from all the C12 gas that got used, guys make it out okay?"

"The paint on my rifle is a bit worse for wear", I laughed, "but it's nothing I can't fix with a few dollars of Duracoat."

"They let you paint your guns now?", the man asked.

"The unit we work in does, it's all our personal shit", Nitro said, "hope business is kind to ya man."

"You too brother, stay safe out there."

"Always", Nitro said.

"Did you get something Alex?", Shelby asked walking up to me.

"Yeah, I bought a pizza from a restaurant next door, need to hang around about eight minutes", I told her.

Shelby kissed me and went back to the Supra. I loitered around the store for around ten minutes before the old lady called for me. I picked up my pizza and soon we were on the road again with nothing between us an Stockton but miles of empty asphalt. No one was ever on the interstate at this time of day, except of course for the two most idiotic Liter Bike riders in the state. The morons were both riding turbocharged bikes and clearly thought they were terrorizing me and my crew, popping wheelies, making blow off noises and rapping on our windows. In my rear view, I saw Nitro flash his headlights at me.

"These guys think they're hot shit", Jack said over the radio, in the background, I hear his RX-7 blowing off extra boost.

"Let's smoke them", Trent said.

"Not yet", I said, "it's not a fair fight, let's get them on a head start."

I double clutched the Supra down to 3rd gear, getting ready for a drop to first. The Twin Turbos under the hood blew off the excess boost in a cloud of hot air directly out the fenders of my car, which clearly made the bikers think I was just a ricer. The both of them launched their bikes as fast as they could go, and when they were about a hundred feet from me, I gave the go ahead.

"Smoke 'em."

The quiet countryside split apart with the loud wail of Turbochargers as every car in my pack dropped to first gear. Nitro's Demon lifted up it's front end with a MOPAR V8 Roar, Trent's Ford Raptor did a rear end squat, James' Mustang did the unmistakable GM 10 Speed reset, while Jack's RX-7 screamed like a raptor high on crack, while my Supra simply rocketed off without the theatrics due to it's all wheel drive. It didn't take us long at all to close the gap between us and the crotch rocket riders, and now the race was on. The guys on the bikes showed us that they certainly knew how to ride. I saw them both get as low on their bikes as they could and lower the visors on their helmets, they had power to weight ratio over all of us, but even that probably wouldn't be enough to beat what we were putting down. I kicked the clutch for second gear, dropping the RPM' of my car down to 4K from 7K, boost threshold for my Supra was 5700 RPM, which meant that I dropped about 200 horsepower when I shifted and the bikes gained just a few inches of ground over me. In the rear view, I saw the Demon swing out from behind me, the lips Nitro had on the bright red LED headlights giving the grill a satanic look that would scare the shit outta me if I saw it in my house in the dark. There wasn't anything around that could out run Nitro's Demon, nothing that could get out of a corner or eat a straight quite like that 2,750 pound chunk of American iron. Putting every bit of 3000 horsepower to the rear wheels through that legendary GM 10 speed set up for racing, the bikes didn't stand a chance. Nitro pulled up beside the bikes, the Demon getting 5th gear as I got 5th. The bikers gave their engines just a little more gas and picked the front wheels off the ground, gaining a good lead over us, making Nitro lose his patience and stop holding back. The Demon picked up it's front end by a good four feet when Nitro gave the greedy V8 everything it could take all at once. I followed suit, pushing the pedal as far to the ground as it could, my Supra's straight six sang me an angelic song as the Rev's screamed all the way to 11 grand and the turbos kicked on with a hiss to make any snake thoroughly jealous. Under boost, the Supra, the bikes and the Demon were all on an even playing field and I made up the distance between myself, my friend and our opponents. Trent, Jack and James weren't lagging behind either, with Trent's Raptor right next to me, filling my ears with it's six liter howl and Jack's RX-7 screaming along at 12 grand like a formula one car. It seemed like hours that our turbocharged, four figure monsters fought the brave little liter bikes for the asphalt of the highway, and in the end, the bikes got their asses handed to them. We approached a four way red light that ended the race with us dozens of yards ahead of the bikes. When the riders pulled up to the stop light, one of them tapped on my window and I rolled it down.

"Damn you guys got badass cars", he laughed, "we haven't been used as mops in years."

"Not so bad yourselves", I said leaning against the Supra's door, "brave guys they way you stood up to my friends' Demon, last rider to challenge him got knocked off an overpass."

"Man I've been a chase cop for 20 years, MOPAR doesn't scare me. Getting thrown from my bike doesn't scare me, road rash and broken bones don't scare me. Only thing that scares me is that tiny engine saying fuck you and turning into a hand grenade, cause then my kids got no Dad."

"You guys are the coolest cops ever", I laughed holding out my hand, "Field Marshal Alex West, US Army."

"Staff Sargent Kendall Griffin", the officer said accepting my handshake, "Normally I'd arrest you and your friends for what you did, but hell, I was harassing you because I thought you were a ricer and I hate ricers."

"It's all function officer", I smiled, "Wide body's there so I can have nice fat tires to put power to the road."

The light turned green and we pulled away, going slow so we could keep talking.

"We you guys headed up to?", Griffin asked.

"Home", I said, "going home for a month of leave as ordered by the president."

'Direct orders from POTUS?", Officer griffin asked.

I shrugged, "when you're a Field Marshal, POTUS is the only person in the government that can issue you orders, him and Codenamed Overlord, but Overlord has more than enough shit on his plate to be fucking with me right now."

"I hear ya sir", he replied, "I'm going up to DelRosio for a few weeks to train some new people on chase bikes. Stop by the academy if you like, we'd be happy to have you."

"I'll keep it in mind", I smiled rolling up the window.

That was the last I saw of Officer Griffin and his friend. They had to stop to refuel and we kept going, taking down distance between us and Stockton, stopping for gas and snacks every three hours. Around 8:30, we passed the sign.

"DelRosio City Limits, Population, 1,900."

Not far after that was the school zone sign, which was blinking, slowing us down to 20 miles an hour. Soon after arriving in town, we turned down main street, stopping for the light at Four Corner's intersection. It was a cross ways that was notorious around town for the blind spots on each corner and before there was the light there had been a four way stop sign there that had caused an ass ton of accidents, one of which had lead to Nitro's last car, a Dodge Dart, getting into an accident. He'd gotten it repaired, as the damage didn't seem that bad, but months later at Front Wheel Drive week at the strip he launched it and the split into two pieces during a mile drag while he was doing a 200mph pull. Come to find out the car had serious frame damage under the slight cosmetic damage. He bought the Demon the next day.

"Ah this intersection brings back memories of the Dart", Shelby smiled.

"I miss that car", I said leaning back in my seat, "it made the best idle sound ever."

As we sat waiting for the light to turn green, I saw a school bus blow through the right way, I didn't catch the number, but I did see the make, it was a Blue Bird Cabover, and I knew Lincoln rode a Cabover, but I wasn't sure of the make.

"Was that Lincoln's bus?", Shelby asked leaning forward.

"I don't know", I said turning on the blinker, "what do you think? Should we surprise him at school, or just go home, call the school and have him dropped off at home?"

"I say we surprise him", Shelby said, "it's career day, so maybe they can get us in so we can shamelessly plug the Army as a viable option."

"Sounds like a plan to me", I agreed.

The light turned green after dicking around for about ten minutes and we followed the signs towards the school. It was a large, brown brick building with a high chain link fence surrounding the playground. Buses were still coming and going, dropping off copious amounts of kids. The Supra certainly caught their attention when I downshifted for the turn that entered the road in front of the playground and to the car drop off lane, which also lead into staff and visitor parking. Another downshift made the Supra blow off several hundred pounds of boost, the hot, compressed air vented out of the fenders of my car with a loud hissing sound that Lincoln would almost certainly come running towards if he were in ear shot, and if he were on the property at all then he was. It took me a few minutes to find a suitable parking spot, but I eventually did find one. I parked the Supra and killed the engine. The 8AM air had warmed considerably from earlier this morning, now just under 30 degrees as opposed to 27. Shelby and I walked into the school and went up to the front desk, where we found a fat woman who looked to be about 40 years old sitting in the chair.

"Excuse me", I said.

"Yeah?", the woman said rather flatly, "I'm busy so this had better be good."

"What room does Lincoln West have?", I asked, "we're his parents and we're here to pick him up."

"Let me see some ID's then", the woman ordered.

Shelby and I fished out our driver's licenses and handed them forward. She scanned them and looked at a computer screen for a few seconds before heading back into the office and coming back with the Principle.

"Mr and Mrs west, please come back here", the principle said.

Having a feeling I knew where this was going to go, Shelby and followed the tall, beefy looking white guy into an office that was blandly decorated. Dingy blue walls and extremely fake carpet didn't mix well with an Ikea desk and the Great Value chairs and filing cabinets. The man's desk was a mess of papers and old pencils and the chair that the man sat in sounded like it was telling him to get off his ass and lose some weight.

"What's this about?", I asked.

The principle handed me a picture of me and my team in what looked like Iraq fighting four terrorists on the end of a street with a tank. It looked like Lincoln had put a lot of work into the picture and there was a ton of detail in our combat rigs, firearms and in the environment. This was probably from my deployment in Iraq from a few years ago, when Shelby took a bullet to the arm and Lincoln learned exactly what the Army really was.

"This picture was found in your son's locker Mister West", the principle said.

"So?", I asked, "what's wrong with it?"

"Personally I don't think it's an accurate depiction of your ability Field Marshal", The principal joked, "my staff members don't feel the same way and want Lincoln expelled for this."

"That's crazy", Shelby said, "it's a drawing."

"You know how it is mam", the principal shrugged, "when this was brought to my attention, I had to keep him here in my office all day as none of his teachers would teach while he was in class out of fear he may be carrying a firearm."

"Knowing our son he probably does", Shelby laughed, "he's got an AR-15 and a .38 caliber revolver at the house, he hasn't brought them to school has he?"

"If he has, we haven't found out yet", the principle said, "of course, Lincoln's probably more responsible with a weapon than the security we have. Now, I would like you to tell him not to draw this stuff in school any more. He's welcome to bring them here and show his friends and all, but he can't put them in his locker or his desk where they'll be found, otherwise he may get into trouble."

"Thanks' for bringing this to my attention", I said offering a handshake.

"Of course", the principle said accepting my handshake, "and thank you for your service to our country Field Marshal."

"Ah, it's just a job to me", I said, "I like to fight, Army was a perfect job."

The principal laughed, "Lincoln is certainly your son, he's got Ms. Robinson's class. Be careful though, she's one of those "army people kill babies" kind of people and Lincoln's been in my office for giving her the what for a lot lately, she may try to scream at you."

"I just got back from DC, I can handle a Liberal", I laughed as I exited the office. Shelby and I loitered around the front desk until she spied Lincoln going into his class, we knew his hairstyle and rolled sleeve, patched camo jacket anywhere. Lincoln was only 12, but he acted more like he was 18. He was a bit too mature for his age and had learned about death and suffering at way too early an age. He was a lanky kid, 5'2 and had Shelby's dark brown hair and my blue eyes and no matter where he went always wore that old, coffee stain desert camo jacket with the patched shoulder and bunch of old patches that Nitro had given him years ago stitched to the front of it. Shelby and I slipped away from the front desk and loitered outside of the classroom until we heard the bell, signaling the start of school. Even after that we camped outside the door for a few minutes until we realized that they were well into the first lesson of the day.

"Time to crash a party", I smiled.

"I wish I had a camera", Shelby giggled as I knocked on the door.

"Come in", the teacher said.

I turned the knob and opened the door. The entire class, minus Lincoln, turned to see who was coming in. I his his friend, Tony I think the kid's name was, punch Linc's shoulder.

"Lincoln", he said.

"What?", Lincoln asked.

Tony pointed. Lincoln turned around and dropped his pencil when he saw us, his face turned red as he turned back to the front of the room and then back to me, grinning widely. I could tell he wasn't sure what to say, or even what to think.

"Well what the hell are you waiting for?", I asked, "You gonna come hug me and your mother or are we just gonna have to stand here and look stupid?"

Lincoln got up from his chair and hugged it out with us, which seemed to slightly piss off the teacher. She had to weigh at least 300 pounds, had a face full of piercings, dyed blue and yellow hair, and she fucking stunk! I could tell already I was in for a fun time.

"Are you Lincoln's parents?", the teacher asked.

"Obviously", I said.

"You're son has been creating disturbing drawings that have caused some people PTSD", the teacher said, "I figure that you're probably a solider, which means you've been in DC fighting for the white supremacist capitalist patriarchal hateful society that Americans seem to love so much, which means I can't ask you to make your son stop, but maybe your marital partner can."

"Marital partner?", Shelby asked, "I'm his wife dipshit."

The kids in the class snickered, "ooh she cussed." Looking around the room, I noticed Tony had pulled out his Iphone and was discreetly recording the encounter, "this is going on YouTube later", he grinned.

"Are you aware that he's brainwashed you!?", the teacher asked, her face twisting in rage, sure didn't take a lot to piss people like this off, "you've been brainwashed into being a baby factory for the patriarchal society we live in."

Shelby shook her head and sighed with that smile that she always had when she was about to fucking roast a bitch, "I only have one kid, my skull has never been opened, so it's literally impossible that I've been brainwashed, and thirdly, what hell is up with your hair you freak? And apparently I'm not the first one to tell you this either. Seems to me like my son's given you the facts too and you don't much like it."

"Lincoln is a racist sexist misogynistic simply stupid uneducated homophone", the teacher said, "just another racist white male who doesn't stand for women's rights."

"How is Lincoln racist?", I asked, "gimme one example."

The teacher just stuttered a bunch of incoherent garbage that in all honesty no one in the room understood.

"We're done here", I said, "Lincoln, grab your shit, we're goin home."

Lincoln went to get his things as the teacher threw a bunch more feminist buzzwords at me and Shelby that we just ignored. We left the classroom shortly after arriving and in the hallway, Lincoln took a deep breath and sighed.

"You're not going back to that class Linc", Shelby said, "I don't want that nasty woman anywhere near you."

"Thanks Mom", Lincoln said, "she made school hell for me and all of my friends."

I checked Linc out of school at the front office and then we walked out to the Supra.

"You eat breakfast son?", I asked as I unlocked the car. I pulled the seat back so Linc could get in the back and slid in my self.

"No", he said, "I woke up late and missed the buss, Grandpa had to drive me."

"Where you wanna go then?", I asked starting the Supra, "and it can't be the new Saffron because Nitro's taking us there to eat tonight."

"Damn", Lincoln sighed, "let's just go home then."

"Home it is", I said backing the car out of the parking space.

"What's been going on while we were at the front honey?", Shelby asked.

Lincoln shook his head, "Besides the news being filled with UWR propaganda and the rest of the channels saying we should surrender? Nothing's changed, did you and Dad manage to rescue president Barron by the way? I saw on You Tube that the UWR had besieged the place."

"They made getting in hell, but we got him out okay", I told him pulling out of the school driveway, "speaking of hell, you're not going back to that class, I'll have to get something sorted out before I get off leave, but I may just pull you out of school."

"Mom would teach him", Shelby said, "she did a pretty good job with me."

"I was thinking private school, but that's a lot cheaper", I said pulling up to the stop sign. I checked to make sure no one was coming, took the turn and cruised back down town to the intersection, where I had to wait for the light once again. It took it's sweet time, but the light turned green and I put the Supra back in first and pulled away from the corner, winding the engine out to 4100 RPM before I hit the speed limit and shifted into second gear, only to promptly downshift again as the traffic started, it was the middle of a Wednesday morning, which meant traffic near the Plaza would be brutal both ways, and brutal it was. It was almost an hour after leaving the school that I managed to get out of DelRosio and onto FR-127, where there was no enforceable speed limit. As soon as the car in front of me turned off onto the exit ramp, I turned to Shelby and Linc.

"You know I have to", I grinned.

"It'd be weird if you didn't", my wife smiled.

"Do it!", Lincoln yelled, "brake 200!"

Grinning, I mashed the pedal down to floor and the Supra took off with that I6 howl that made Skyline's jealous. I banged off the car's 11,000 RPM rev limiter as the turbo's kicked on, giving me that last boost to 80 miles an hour before having to kick the clutch for second gear as the song Halo from my album began to play.

"The butterflies from my insides have all gone away, and I don't long for the danger, but I'm here to stay. I fall even deeper when the lights, they don't keep me away. You wanna know my secrets, so you keep on crashing into my ways. I don't have the patience for that, and I don't care, we're waiting for that. I don't know what's changing my head. Let's go somewhere and never come back. Tonight we lose control, no matter where we go, we're never going home. And you don't even know, when I get you alone, you can lose your halo. You can lose your halo."

Second and Third gear carried me through the first verse of the song and all the way to 170 miles an hour. At 10,000 RPM I hit fifth gear, which carried the car to 190 miles an hour, which pulled it through to sixth. Top speed in the car was limited to 195, but with the mod's I'd made to the car that had increased to 235. I'd driven it to top speed multiple times on this road racing my friends, but at the end of the day Nitro's challenger always won because we simply couldn't compete with his V10's ridiculously high gear ratio and horsepower figures that could get those 10 tall ass gears to spin very quickly.

After about 20 minutes of driving on FR-127, I came on the paved access road that would take us home. We lived an hour outside of town, it was far enough that Lincoln had to ride two buses to school every day, which also met it was far away from prying eyes, which was good for us. Nitro owned the land that all six of our houses sat on, and consequently he owned the road, which had no speed limit, which meant I could once again open the Supra up. I had intended to just listen to the engine sing it's song, at least until a familiar guitar started playing. The guitar was soon joined by the clapping of symbols and the slow, deep and steady pulse of a large drum. Soon the drum set was joined by a second guitar with a mechanical sounding beat, like what you hear in Mammoth when the protagonists build a 12,000 horsepower Semi Trailer to catch and destroy a Skyline GTR possessed by a demon. More drums and guitars join together to create a guttural rhythm that bleeds diesel, blood and dirt.

Then the first lyrics start, and I join in.

"Watch your tongue or have it cut from your head."

"Save your life by keeping whispers unsaid", Shelby chimed.

"Children roam the streets, now orphans of war", Lincoln said in his deepest voice, which wasn't really all that deep.

"Bodies hanging in the streets to adore", I chimed clutching the car into second gear, timing the shift with a drum beat.

"Royal flames will carve a path in chaos, bringing daylight to the night", Shelby sang.

"Death is riding into town with armor",Lincoln growled.

"They've come to take all your rights!", We all shouted together.

"HAIL TO THE KING!", we all sang in our loudest voices as the Supra hit 3rd gear with the kickback that everyone in town knew, "HAIL TO THE ONE! Kneel to the cross! Stand for the flag! Hail to the king!."

"Blood is spilt while holding keys to the throne. Born again, but it's too late to atone", I said loudly, continuing with my part of the song, "No mercy from the edge of my blade. Dare escape and learn the price to be paid!"

"Let the water flow with shades of red now", Shelby exclaimed, "arrows black out all the light!"

"Death is riding into town with armor", Lincoln roared, "Ive come to grant you your rights

"HAIL TO THE KING!", we cried as the Supra hit 5th gear, chiming in with the turbo blowing a cloud of steam out of the side of the fenders, "HAIL TO THE ONE! Kneel to the cross! Stand for the flag! Hail to the king!"

"There's a taste of fear!", I sang, Lincoln chimed in "HAIL, HAIL, HAIL", in harmony from the back.

"When the Henchmen call", Shelby said.

"Hail, Hail, Hail."

"Iron fist to tame the land", I sang, preparing for the near impossible shift to 7th gear.

"Iron fist to claim it all!", Lincoln exclaimed, holding the note with a near perfect pitch.

I punched the clutch in as hard as I could and forced the shifter into 7th gear, the Supra screamed in satisfaction and picked the front wheels up off the ground as the Turbo's kicked on, their hiss going so high pitched it became in audible over the deep throated roar of the Inline Six hanging over the font axle, proving itself' insufficient to keep the car on the ground. A quick glance over at a gauge I had mounted to the B pillar showed me boost and horsepower figures that I didn't even know this car was capable of.

"136.72 PSI Boost, 3,762 Horsepower/ 2,500LBS torque @ 11,252 RPM"

"HAIL TO THE KING!", we cried as the Supra made full, four wheel contact with the ground again, the jar from the impact seeming as though the Supra were reminding us who the real king of this road was, "HAIL TO THE ONE! Kneel to the cross! Stand for the flag! Hail to the king!"

The speedometer was hovering a mere half an inch over the 240 mark, and I wanted to see how long I could maintain that speed, but since we had about 60 miles to drive, and fuel economy was shit at that speed even with my car's insane gearing, I slowed down to 70 and stayed there. After an hour of driving through the woods, I passed a back lit sign placed in a concrete tower "Haven, population 10, 5 miles". Haven was a small, sleepy little fishing town way up the coast of Alaska and in the Arctic Circle. At the front of the town was a large totem pole that had been here for as long as I could remember, further in was a small power station with a diesel fired generator hooked to a 4,000 gallon underground tank. Because of transformers, batteries and a bunch of fancy wiring, the 4k gallons of fuel usually lasted the town for two years. Across the road from the generator building was a storage facility the fishermen used and beside that was a three story wooden plank building with the fishery on the ground floor, a bar on the second and what my Tier X team and my brother Raf's UDT team used as storage and a Command Post. Across the street from that was my house. It wasn't very big, about 1000 square feet. We had a single bathroom, two bedrooms, a small living room and kitchen and all of that was above the garage where Shelby and I kept our sports cars and where the six of us liked to hang out a lot. Kate and Issac had been staying with Shelby and I since we got back two days ago, which made our little home much more cramped than it already was. Behind my house were my friend's houses, the boat docks and my favorite building in town, the light house, where Nitro was currently living and I envied him for it. I say it's my favorite building because of the way it lights everything up at night and since were so far from the city, the small platform up top is an amazing place to watch the Aurora Borealis. I pulled up to the garage door, put the Supra in neutral, got out and opened the garage and then drove the car inside. I know all you turbo guys are freaking out thinking that it needs to idle and cool off, but the temperature of the motor was barely 130 degrees, thanks to some fancy intercooler work and the temperature outside being subzero and shit. I killed the car, put up the parking brake and climbed out, happy as hell to be home.