(Story extract)

We all hitched up our saddlebags, Crash Dive grabbing a bit of oats for herself before heading out of the bunker. We stepped around the puddle of warm goo in front of us, heading along the row of bunk houses set behind the main facility. Jericho Beach is a pretty old supply depot, even by pre-war standards. There shouldnt be any security systems still online. Crash Dive said. Nevertheless, I made sure I could easily reach my umbrella in case we stumbled into another one of those mutated bloatflies. Well, more mutated than the ones back home, anyways. No security systems work both ways, if that thing that woke us up this morning means anything…

We first headed towards the docks, several discarded crates of cargo laying on the piers and at the waters edge. I opened the door to one of the small shacks nearby, rummaging around inside the office. Find anything? Night Strike asked, poking her head to see what I was up to. I stood up from digging around in one of the filing cabinets, holding up a couple bottles of Sunrise Sarsaparilla.

Just some centuries old soda. Want one? I offered the bottle to her, her response being to pull a look of disgust in return. I shrugged, pocketing one and popping the cap off the other. Oh, come on, Night Strike. Theres brand loyalty and then theres just plain insanity. Answering me with a sigh and shake of her head, Night Strike turned and trotted after Crash Dive, heading towards the ends of the docks.

I thought we established long ago the fact that Im crazy. Night Strike and I stopped at the edge of the dock, peering down into the water. I could barely make out the shape of a sunken boat in the murky water. Hey, didnt Ripple need some boat parts? Youre a good swimmer, right Static? Shooting her a glare, the pegasus wore a smirk.