Spencer Hunter Hughes's Story

New York, New York

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As the city taken apart by the third world war progresses, factions build, relationships crumble, and being silenced is a constant fear. Each faction vies for the chance to be in charge, to be heard. In order to do so, the highest ups are put into situations where they must make decisions that can change themselves and the world. The people of New York City know something is coming and they know if they aren't careful, they can be caught in the crossfire.

The city's electricity is scarce, found only by the wealthiest who can afford the gasoline needed to run their generators. Everyone else is forced to use precious batteries and candles in order to see at night. Radios are a common form of communication because of the ability to use batteries, clothing and needed items are scavenged in the abandoned stores that occasionally line side streets of NYC. Money is hard to come by unless one has a job. Clothing stores no longer receive shipments as all gasoline for cars/trucks has been forbidden by most factions in order to save it for the electricity provides though of course, there are the few who bend the rules.

Though WW3 ravages the outside world, New York City has it's own problems to fear as it works out a dangerous battle of power, done by the three most prominent factions, the Youngbloods, Maniacs, and Phoenixes. Those who are extremely dedicated risk everything and in the end, blood can't help but be spilled.

Spencer was startled awake by the sound of his very own alarm clock. It was one of those disgustingly old ones where you had the wind it up with a small metal key in the back of it and the sound of the tiny metal hammer whacking away furiously from side to side was one of the most terrifying sounds to wake up to. Spencer blinked his eyes blankly, adjusting to the bright morning light with great discomfort. He let his eyelids droop closed again as his left arm wiggled around on the other side of the bed, trying to blindly shut off the racket that was echoing off of the walls and rebounding so it was like some hellish sensory overload. His arm felt its way to his end table next to where he slept and repeated began to slap itself down on the wood, missing the alarm every time. Eventually he let out a frustrated groan and pushed himself up, out from under the covers. He slid onto the floor a bit like a puddle and grabbed one of his shoes that were at the foot of the bed before whipping around to chuck it at the alarm which fell to the cold tile floor with a metal crash. After breaking a vacant gaze, Spencer let out a low, guttural groan, rubbing his eyes roughly as he leaned back to sit on his knees.

He could already tell it was going to be a long day.

Despite getting a full night of sleep, he felt groggy, that kind of gray fog that sets down around you when you wake up tired. Spencer knew that if he didn't get up right away, he was going to sleep in for far too long and he couldn't risk that; especially when they were bound to carry out a plan to get James back any day now. The thought of the man all by himself as he was surely forced to face the worst the Maniacs had to throw at him gave Spencer an uneasy feeling, an oily black pebble in the pit of his stomach. With a small sigh, the boy rose to his feet, curling his toes against the freezing tile as he stretched lazily, several pops emanating from his back.

"Okay, let's get this day on the road. Jeez I need some coffee," he told himself confidently, walking around to the other side of his bed to pick up his clock and shoe. The clock had a hairline crack in its glass face, Spencer noted with disdain before setting it down rather carefully on the table and tossing his shoe on the messy covers of his bed. Spencer changed into a simple white cotton tee shirt and slid on a pair of blue jeans, hopping around ridiculously as he pulled his legs through. Quickly, he snatched his sneakers, but didn't bother putting them on and turned to the entrance to his room. He ran a quick hand through his hair, brushing his brown hair to the right, before heading to the door of his room.

"Ow! Dammit!" Spencer cried out as his left foot crunched down on the sharp, tiny pieces of a motherboard from a computer. He hopped around on his other foot, cradling the left. After the pain subsided, he bent down to snatch up the blue motherboard, checking it for damage as he went over the terms for the parts in his head. Northbridge, CPU Socket, PCI Slots, he listed quietly in his head until finally deeming it perfectly fine and directing his attention to what can best be described as what looked like a cyborg junkyard. Old laptop shells, Optical Drives, and various other computer parts lay in piles, hardly organized at all. The mess slightly surprised Spencer, unaware that the mess had gotten so bad. Still, he slid the blue chip onto the end table, convincing himself that he'll take care of it later. he stepped out into the hallway before heading to the door that lead to the stairs, a part of him wishing that the elevator still worked. He trudged up two flights of stairs like a slug before throwing himself against the door to let him out into the hallway, heading into the office where Gert stood on the far side of the room. Spencer beamed brightly at the man as he walked in, attempting to meet the man's eyes.

"'Morning! Nice day to be in NYC, huh?" he stated amicably, gesturing to the bright sun peaking over the tips of the skyscrapers.

"Did you have any plans for today? I have nothing on my schedule," he continued, setting his shoes down on the floor. Spencer didn't know much about Gert that was for sure, but he knew the Ex-Maniac had to have some redeeming quality. He knew that the man wanted very much to protect Edmund and that seemed like a good a reason as any to get to know him.

Gert turned to look out the window and smiled, "Would have been..." sighed, "Will be." Turned to Spencer, "Was going to go for a run in the city. Maybe pick up stuff for my bike and other supplies. Your more then welcome to come if you want, granted Edmund doesn't need anything." Looked at the office were Caleb and Stella were in, "You know what that's all... you know what? Never mind." Took a look around, "If your in meet me in the make shift garage down stairs." With that he ran to the stairs and descended as quick as possible. Once on the ground floor he ran to the back storage rooms, were one had been turned into a makeshift garage were he stored his bike. "Hi girl, how are you?" He said to his bike as he entered the room, closing the door behind him. "Sorry girl, with out power and world in hell, I haven't been able to treat you right. If it makes you feel any better I'm missing something too. Hopefully after today at less one of us will have what we're looking for." He then sat down in the darkest corner on the cold hard floor in the fetal position, and let his eyes close. Due to how dark the room was and the his dark outfit, he nearly disappeared into the shadow.

Once his eyes had closed, an image appeared, this time a young girl with long dark brown hair and eyes. When they meet she was a young rebellious teen, a lone wolf like him. She was the first girl in his whole life he could connect with, and she had a name of an angel, Katrina. Her name slipped from his mouth with a smooth happy relaxing tone, "Katrina" again it slipped out but this time in pain. With that he hugged his legs closer and with his eyes still closed rest his head on his knees. A few years later after the power went out she invited him to join her and her new group, the Maniacs. He loved being part of the group, it almost felt like a family, some thing he never had before. Their chaotic behavior and is his drifter life style seemed like a match made in heaven. Plus being around a beautiful girl who could relate and except his past was an added bonus.

"Right, okay then,"Spencer agreed simply as Gert rushed out of the room with the urgency of someone being chased. It was really quite curious to be honest and it slightly alarmed Spencer, but with Gert's stony face it was hard to determine what the man could be thinking, whether it good or bad, virtuous or not. Spencer chewed on his bottom lip and looked over to the office where hushed voices were whispering. He furrowed his brow at the thought of Gert's words. It was a valid question; what was going on in there and his curiosity peaked, but he shoved it back down, knowing that whoever was talking had wanted to keep things a secret. Furthermore, he trusted everyone here so why should he know of anything and everything? He was in no position to demand information.
Besides, he reminded himself, Gert was waiting for him in the garage they had weakly constructed in the back of the Freedom Tower. Without a second thought to the murmurs, Spencer positioned himself behind his shoes and slipped them over his heels, humming melodiously to himself as he did so. After slamming his heels into the tile a couple times to get his shoes secure over his feet, he cleared his throat and walked out of the room at a brisk pace. He certainly didn't want Gert to leave without him and with the speed that he left, he could already be halfway there. Gert had the strength and endurance Spencer's wiry frame lacked. It was characteristics like this that Spencer wondered how he was with the Phoenixes. How his weaknesses weighed down on his own potential. Therefore, while he couldn't throw a punch very well or shoot a gun without risking the people around him, he practiced other useful trades such as auto mechanics. His mind immediately popped to Gert's motorcycle, one of the few things he had brought with him from his past life as a Maniac.
"Huh, well maybe I can think of something to bring up as a conversation topic. Maybe this won't be so bad. Yeah, this'll be great, we'll have a great day. Buy some supplies, get some stuff for his motorcycle, perfect day," Spencer babbled to himself stupidly, trying to hype himself up for the day ahead, hoping the positive words would demolish and wither up the bad feeling that swirled around his head and shoulders with the persistence of a swarm of starving mosquitoes, but the words fell flat and made no difference at all. With a frustrated sigh and a twitch at the corner of his mouth, Spencer continued down the winding stairs until he landed on the first floor and turned to jog to the back of the building, humming a cheerful tune to himself until he came upon the storage room that housed the garage. He swung open the door with a graceful flamboyancy and a grin on his face.
"Ready to go, Gert! Whenever you-." Spencer's words cut off as he looked around the dim room and saw no sign of Gert at all. In this pause however, he heard weak words in the corner, words from a voice of sorrow. Spencer furrowed his brows and walked carefully around Gert's sleek bike, looking for the source of the murmurs. When Spencer caught sight of the man in the corner, he had almost overlooked him twice. With his dark clothes, it was nearly impossible to tell Gert was curled up in the corner.
"'Ey, Gert, you alright, man? What's wrong?" he demanded as he strode over to Gert, his hand hesitating for a second before lightly shaking his shoulder. Spencer thought he almost caught what Gert was saying, it sounded like a name, but he couldn't be sure and decided maybe he shouldn't ask about it.

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Having been shaken awake from his day dream, Gert looked up to see Spencer looking down at him. "Oh, hi. Sorry just... day dreaming." Got up and dusted himself off, and sized up Spencer. "Look nothing against you or Edmund, but when your out with me. Pleeeease... keep your head down and do what I say, when I say, how I say no questions asked." As he said that he went to his work table, grabbing his backpack. He reached under the table and drew a 0.45 pistol, and checked the magazine, putting it inside his jacket. After that, he double checked his pack, making sure it was packed with tools, med kit, binoculars, white chalk and 2 more magazines. "So we ready to do this?" Gert looked at Spencer with a big smile that is trying to cover up something, possibly more hurt or something more.
Without waiting for answer he turned to his bike and wiped a spot of the tank. He hated leaving her in this make sift garage and not being able to drive her as much. He planed on fixing and cleaning her up so he could show his Maniac friend the only freedom he ever know. "Good bye girl. I'll be back with your gift as soon as I can. And I promise to bring the kid home to."

Spencer narrowed his eyes at Gert's behavior, especially when the man packed a pistol with him. He inhaled slowly as Gert gathered his belongings, still concerned about his '"daydream". It wasn't until Spencer heard his one demand that he pushed back.

"Not to sound insinuating or anything, but it seems like you are anticipating something dangerous to happen," he murmured stonily, crossing his arms defiantly across his white shirt.

"I'm not saying a being cautious is suspicious, but you seem to be... expecting something a little more than a few simple errands," he continued, hoping he wasn't sounding too confrontational, the last thing he wanted was to get on Gert's bad side, but if Gert expected him to follow orders like a good little toy soldier, he was going to have a wake up call. However, even though the request annoyed him slightly, he wasn't going to purposefully act out. That would be even stupider than picking a fight with the man across from him.

"But- I mean, I'll listen to your orders as long as they're something I agree with. I'll do what I feel fit and help you out while we do this, can you agree with my terms?" Spencer asked calmly, raising a dark eyebrow at Gert as he reached for his own bag, a red Swiss Gear backpack covered in black oil from a few cars he had worked on a couple weeks before. Inside, he verified that there were two plastic water bottles and a granola bar with a few screwdrivers, electric tape, and a hammer; tools he could use to hot wire a car if needed. He swung the pack over his shoulders and slipped his arms through the slots, ready to go if Gert was.

Gert smiled, "If there is one thing I've learned living on these street, even before the world dropped into the ninth layer of hell. The world was already hell, and if you weren't ready for the worst case then most likely that's what you would get. Now that doesn't mean I want trouble I just like being ready for it." Looked Spencer over one more time as he walked out the door. "As far as your counter terms, sounds like a plan. I was just saying that, just incase something happens, you seem a little green. I think as far as parts go there should be a police station with bikes not to far from here if its still intact. If so we should also be able to get other supplies and set up a fall back spot should any of our trips out go sideways." He pecked through the shades next to the back door, and since he didn't see anyone he slipped out into the back alleyway. Gert tried to think of the city layout and best rout. Gert decided to get to the end of the alley and see what Spencer thought.

He moved a little ways down the alley, and looked back to make sure Spencer was following. Then he moved as quickly and quietly as possible, without losing his partner, to the end of the alleyway. He whispered to him once they were together again"So this is what I'm thinking. We could try the metro if the tunnels haven't collapsed or flooded. Then there was the back way, hit the chapel, curve south and around to the university. Problem there is who knows whose hiding in the builds and alleyways. Or the straightest path, head through the park to city hall to the station, but similar problem. Benefit of the straight path is we could raid what was left of city hall on the way."