Corey waited for his little family to force itself into the "cozy" cab of the truck and took off at a relatively slow speed down the road.
"Y'know, in the military this is considered crappy driving. The way they taught me was to shriek down the middle of the road at breakneck speed and light up anyone that got in my business."
He said, turning on the radio.
"I guess not everything you learn there translates that well into civilian life huh?"
He said with a chuckle.
---
As they approached the really shady part of town, a song, one of many Corey considered an anthem for the Outcasts, began to play through the truck's speakers. As he cranked up the volume, the old scrapyard came into sight. Its rusty sheet metal walls keeping prying eyes off of the activities within. Lights and a blend of voices, singing, yelling and swearing, were the only sign of life visible from the outside.
"You guys ready to start a riot?"
Corey asked enthusiastically as he parked next to a cluster of beat up cars and motorcycles. 

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