Just how much had they scavenged over the years? How many strongholds were found, basements upturned, and old collections had been destroyed? Jared asked himself just that, as he finally got the last handful of weapons into the car, each individual piece having been given a tag. It had taken three full drives back and forth, but he had finally reached the last batch. The day had passed so quickly, the sun beginning to set just as he got into the car.

It had been a hard day's work, but it was work he was proud of having accomplished. It would have normally taken a full week of trained personnel to get through, but he had done it all in less than a quarter of the time. If that wasn't an example of a good work ethic, the man didn't know what it was. Jared just knew that he deserved to lean back in the car seat, sigh deeply, and give himself a mental pat on the back. If he had followed the path of his old man, he might even have brought out a cigarette. Not that he even thought about doing something like that. Jared prized his lungs too much, already unhappy about how short a distance he could run. And it just continued getting shorter by the day…

That was enough brooding for one day. Putting on a small smirk, Jared fished out the keys from his pocket, putting it into the car, and starting the old piece of work. It had been with the force for a good two decades, and the car had seen its share of disasters along the way. The man couldn't help but resonate with that a tad, the caress of the steering wheel done purely out of nostalgia.

Jared felt pressure on his skin. Looking to the right, he saw the automation giving him a side-glance. It quickly turned its eyes back the moment they met, however, looking forward immediately after. Debating whether to mention it or not, Jared decided to preserve his good mood. It wasn't every day he got to such levels of satisfaction, and ruining it all by taking his anger out on a piece of scrap would help nobody.

The brake was pulled, and off they were, driving down the shoddy road. Jared had never been one to drive off-road, preferring the clean asphalt more than anything. On the paved roads, there was none of the jumping, no sudden bumps, and certainly no chances of having the car damaged.

The road they drove on was all of those mixed together, creating what the man could only think of as hell on earth. If he even thought about driving a bit faster than walking speed, rocks would start jumping up on the underside of the car, causing all kinds of dangerous sounds to be heard. While it did not damage the vehicle outright, the number of scratches were worrying enough in itself.

That did take up a lot of time. With the trees in the way, it was a lot darker than he had wanted it to be, Jared having to put on the headlights to even see anything. And… they just had to be smeared with mud. Honestly, this day couldn't have gotten worse than this. Driving slowly through melted snow turned into mud, after having done physical work his entire day. His body most definitely needed to rest when he got back to the station.

Never mind that, actually. Jared felt his body needed rest now. But… sitting at the wheel of a car able to drive faster than most people could comprehend, he didn't feel too safe power-napping. A year ago, when put in a similar situation, he would have asked his partner to take over for him so he could get his well-deserved rest. Yet…

Looking over at the scrap-pile once again, Jared saw it sitting motionless, not moving a single muscle, or whatever those things had instead of it. While it looked like a statue, Cass had mentioned how well it worked as a driver. Surely, there was no way it could fail at such a low speed.

…

Nah. Jared couldn't get himself to accept it. Sighing once again, he refocused on the road ahead. He was tired, his muscles needed to rest, and his mind was beginning to wander easily. Yet there was not a chance he would put the control over to the construct beside him. It would sit in its place and not say a word. That was the order given to it, and it was the order that he wouldn't back down from.

He had pride on his side, no matter how much he disliked it. Jared was too prideful sometimes, and he understood that. He also understood that pridefulness was something that couldn't easily be gotten rid of, no matter how much effort he put into the task.

It was the reason he tried to push his boundaries in terms of strength, it was the reason he joined the force, and it was the reason he refused to leave it. His goal had been to rise from the position he started with, never having setbacks. The massive increase from becoming augmented had only fueled that pride of his, happiness setting in alongside it. His pride of seeing others like him bloom into prideful people, ready to take on everything in their path.

He had been filled with pride when helping others through hard times, hard times on the work, and hard times in private. So many people had been stopped from falling because of the pride that he had instilled in them. Maybe those experiences were the reason Jared was afraid to let go of his own.

Would he fall? Would he plunge to the depths he started at, knowing fully that he would never rise again? Jared feared the darkness below, for he knew it could never be escaped. And because of that, his pride refused to let him take the first step down there. He refused to let go of the one thing that allowed him to still cling to the pride he had helped others gain. And… it wasn't like he had done it well enough with any of the others. Their pride had changed over the years, the pride shifting from their position and to themself instead. They had changed, yet Jared had been static throughout it all. He had never moved on.

A small sniffle was heard in the car, yet nobody dared to create information about the source of it. Not like the sound was heard again, the reason destroyed as quickly as it came, the emotion bottled up once again. Jared was too tired for work. He needed to get back to his room, needed to lie on his bed and rest his head.

Was it the work of the day? Was the dead expressions on the dead bodies the reason for his memories flooding back into him? Jared certainly felt a tad younger, almost able to hear the voices of those who had walked away from their positions, one way or another. The drops of dried blood on his fingers caused nostalgia, but not in the way that he wanted. Just what-

The sound of grinding came from the underside of the car. Jared just sighed, having a general idea of what had happened. In his moments lost within, his foot had gotten a bit heavier than it should have, and the consequences had certainly shown themselves. Looking up into the sky, he noted the extreme darkening. It was getting much too late for this kind of stuff.

An attempt was made to simply slow down and continue, yet the unstoppable grinding made it clear that something big had been wedged into the underside. It wasn't going to fall out just because of him slowing down for a second. Jared would have to remove this one himself.

Unbuckling himself from his seat, he opened the door and got out of the car. A miniature flashlight was fished out from his pocket. Getting down on his knees, Jared got his head closer to the ground to see under the car.

With his flashlight pointed on the underside, he systematically checked through what there was to see. The inferior light only allowed so much light, with much of it being directed to a single point. Nevertheless, Jared was able to surmount that there wasn't any damage at the back of the car, nothing hinting at the battery having been hit. That was good news.

Likewise, there weren't any notable scratches in the middle. Some minor ones to the exterior, yes, but nothing like what had created that god-awful sound from before. Jared could only surmise that the object must have been lodged in the front. Point his light there, the man took a calm gaze there, ready to stick in his hand and…

There was no rock. Not that Jared hadn't found the source of his troubles for the minute, but it most certainly wasn't a piece of stone lodged in. Putting his head up again, he looked through the open side of the car, his eyes glinting as the light hit his eyes. The automation looked over at him this time with a full turn of its head. It was likely wondering what was wrong.

“You seemed to have failed at the task set out for you,” Jared noted, once again taking a look at what they had driven over. At first glance, it might have seemed like a piece of untangled wire, but upon further inspection, it was clearly so much more than that. “Your incompetence got the car stuck.”

It was what was commonly known as a vehicle-stopper. The wire was stronger than anybody could guess from a glance and thin enough to not be seen in worse lighting conditions. And… whenever it was driven over, it would tangle itself up with the car in an instant. If any attempt were made to brute force it, the car’s innards would be destroyed long before the wire was scratched.

A common trap. Easy to make, easy to set up, and extremely effective in the right conditions. And it should also have been extremely able to notice and remove during the time that the automation had been put to disable any traps on the road. With the number of hours granted to that job, Jared had been sure that it could have at least done a good job, yet what he saw was yet another reason to stop any attempts at creating trust.

The automation didn't seem to have anything to say in its defence, removing its own gaze from Jared and looking around the road instead. It seemed determined to inspect the walls for close to a full ten seconds. Jared idly wondered if a response was hopeless and if he just needed to get the bolt cutters out immediately, yet the automation did finally turn back to him.

“There was no trap here when I walked along the road,” the construction informed him. Jared had a hard time believing that.

“They're very clearly was, seeing as we just hit it with the car,” Jared stated. The other times they had gone ahead and dropped off the corpses and gear, they had taken the long road around so that the automation could double-check its work. Yet that had clearly not mattered much, since it had obviously missed one of the easy ones.

“I walked along this path. If there had been a trap then, I would have triggered it myself,” the construct stated, before switching over to the police channel. ‘I believe we are being ambushed.’

Even if his ears were old, Jared still heard the mild rustling of a bush being pushed slightly aside. If not for him jumping in and shutting the door behind him, a bullet would have entered the back of his head.

They were indeed being ambushed. Attempting to immediately send out a distress signal, Jared was met with an error. Jamming? He didn't know or care. The man just knew he had to survive this by his own will.