Scorpion knew Panam too well. He'd seen her grit her teeth through worse storms, never letting a word of weakness slip past those stubborn lips.
So instead of pressing her, he turned his sharp eyes to Neo.
"Brother Neo," Scorpion said, his tone a strange mix of curiosity and concern, "what exactly happened to Panam?"
Neo didn't hesitate. "She took a solo gig. Ended up getting screwed over by the Wraiths. They stole her truck and her cargo. What she's driving now? Just a look-alike, not the one she lost."
He let his voice fall flat at the end. "Middleman's demanding answers. Client too. That's why she entered the Battle Run—needed cash, fast."
The air tensed. Mitch's expression hardened first.
"Those Wraith bastards hit her?" he snapped. "Son of a bitch… that can't stand. No damn way!"
Scorpion exhaled through his nose, trying to stay calm. "Yeah, you're right. But if we're gonna do something, it's gotta be smart. Saul's been breathing down our necks lately. Ordered everyone to stay put—collect batteries, fix generators, play it safe."
Mitch rubbed his chin, a glimmer of mischief sparking in his eyes. "What if…" He leaned closer, lowering his voice. "What if we don't start trouble—we just, say, recover stolen property? Our stolen property. Totally legitimate, right?"
Scorpion blinked, then grinned wide. "You clever bastard. That's genius. We're not leaving camp to fight—we're leaving to catch thieves! Perfectly reasonable."
Panam blinked, momentarily thrown off by how fast they'd spun that. "Wait… but Saul specifically said none of you were allowed to leave camp!"
Scorpion shrugged innocently. "Did we say we were leaving camp? We're just… catching a few thieves that happened to run very far away."
He turned, clapping Mitch on the back. "C'mon, let's gear up. Grab the good stuff. We're gonna need it."
Then, to Panam, he added with a rare smile, "And don't thank us yet. We're just doing what family's supposed to."
Panam's expression softened. "Still, thanks—both of you."
She turned, motioning for Neo to follow her deeper into the camp.
...
The Aldecaldo camp was alive even under the weight of the setting sun. Diesel generators hummed. Voices carried laughter and curses through the dry wind.
Everywhere they walked, someone greeted Panam.
"Hey, Panam, you're back!"
"Who's the new guy? Damn, he's a looker."
"Panam! You eaten yet?"
Each time, Panam waved, sometimes teasing, sometimes swearing, and then whispered some ridiculous story about whoever they'd passed—like a walking chronicle of camp gossip.
Neo didn't interrupt. He just listened.
And in that quiet way of his, he started to understand why she'd fought so hard to hold on to this place.
...
Inside the armory tent, Panam wasted no time.
She went straight for the heavy racks—the newest, meanest, most illegal hardware the Aldecaldos had tucked away.
Neo watched her work, impressed. She handled guns like an artist handled brushes—each piece chosen with intent.
"Hey," Panam said suddenly, glancing at him over her shoulder, "you really don't use guns?"
Neo smiled faintly. "Nope. We've got a weapons specialist on my crew—an absolute maniac with firearms. She tried teaching me once." He paused, thinking of Rebecca's chaotic grin and twin pistols. "Didn't stick."
Panam raised a brow. "Why not?"
"She figured out the truth," Neo said simply. "I don't need a gun to get the job done."
Then, almost as an afterthought, he added, "Didn't use one when I killed Adam Smasher either."
Panam froze, staring at him for a long moment. Then she coughed lightly. "Yeah, alright. That… tracks."
She'd seen him cut a car in half with one swing.
Yeah. That tracked.
...
When they stepped out of the tent, both were loaded down with weapons and gear. Strangely, no one in camp said a word. No questions, no suspicious looks—just the quiet respect given to people who knew what they were doing.
At the gate, Scorpion and Mitch were waiting beside Panam's truck. They'd already tuned the engine, replaced the worn coupling lines, even topped off the coolant.
Mitch shut the hood with a satisfying thud. "She's good to go. Should run smoother than ever."
"Appreciate it," Panam said, meaning it.
As Neo tossed the last crate into the trunk, his eyes caught something half-buried under a tarp—a basketball, faded and scuffed by years of desert dust.
"Basketball?" he asked, curious.
Panam smiled faintly, nostalgic. "Yeah. Found it out near the border two years ago. Thought I'd toss it out eventually, but… never did."
Neo didn't say anything. Just smiled. The desert was full of ghosts—sometimes they took the shape of memories, sometimes old toys.
Once the gear was secured, Panam gave Scorpion and Mitch each a brief nod. "Thanks, guys. You know Saul's gonna lose his mind when he realizes what you're doing, right?"
Scorpion grinned. "He always does. That's half the fun."
Neo chuckled, mounting his Rayfield and kicking the engine to life. Its roar cut through the camp like thunder.
Panam climbed into her Thorton Caliburn, rolled down the window, and looked over at him. The desert wind caught her hair, framing that sharp, untamed face.
Neo pulled up beside her, matching her pace as they drove out toward the horizon.
"You know much about Rocky Ridge?" he asked, voice raised over the engines. "Heard it's a ghost town halfway between the city and the border. Everyone's either dead or gone."
Panam nodded. "That's about right. Used to be one of those 'expansion projects'—build a new satellite town, they said. Better life outside the walls, they said. Then funding ran dry, NUSA pulled out, and the people left or starved. Happens all the time."
Neo's eyes narrowed slightly. "And there's more like it?"
"Hundreds," she said. "Maybe thousands across the country. Drive through them at night, cut the engine, and listen. You'll hear the wind whistle through empty homes. Feels like the dead still live there."
Neo smirked. "Then it's a fitting place to bury the Wraiths."
He pulled out his phone, flicked through his contacts, and hit call.
"Jackie," he said when the line clicked. "We've got a target."
On the other end came the familiar rumble of laughter. "You sound serious, hermano. Where we meetin'?"
Neo's smile widened. "Rocky Ridge. Bring everyone. Time to make the desert scream."