[center][h3]March 14, 2018 - Harvard, Massachusetts.  Bromfield School.[/h3][/center]
[center]50 Degrees.  Heavy rain.[/center]
[center][IMG]http://i64.tinypic.com/nqptad.png[/IMG][/center]

Isaac half-stumbled, half-ran as he followed Skullface as closely as he could across a sopping wet field.  His feet tripped over wire and obstacles designed to slow the risen.  But his tenacity and drive to put as much distance between himself and the burning hell of a school behind him kept him upright despite the slew of issues that were plaguing him, such as the swelling of his nose and mouth, the swimming of his head, or the loss of equilibrium from the trauma, the drugs, or the smoke inhalation.

His mask offered little comfort, even as it protected his eyes from the chilling rain.  With each breath, the visor would fog, cloudying an already poorly-visible situation.  Fortunately, Isaac wouldn't have to travel much further.  As his feet cleared the last line of defensive barbed wire, a Jeep Wrangler with a very anxious and eager driver, Nosering, was waiting for him.

His hands gripped the rails for stability and with a pull from Skullface, Isaac climbed into the back of the Jeep.  Skullface surveyed the school, watching with mixture of remorse and satisfaction as the roof began to collapse. With a nod (perhaps an affirmation, or perhaps a farewell to his friend), he tapped the side of the vehicle and hopped into the back, sitting across from Isaac.

"This is Massachusetts Avenue."  Skullface shouted to Nosering as he rolled the sopping wet mask up his face, past his lips.  "I've driven this route hundreds of times.  Take this South to 111.  That'll take us to Boston."

"Any where the fuck away from here is fine with me!"  Nosering shouted back.

Skullface, fed up with how wet his mask was, took the entire thing off.  For the first time, Isaac could see his whole face.  Strong jaw.  Shaved head (like most of the Eastern Front, Isaac had keenly noted).  The man was clearly in his late twenties and extremely fit.  He had a sort of skin-head biker gang look that, were Isaac to be very frank, would cause him, in normal circumstances, to steer clear of.

He watched Isaac as the man sat back, droopy-eyed under his mask.  He gave the outside of Isaac's knee a pat.  "Hey.  You're bleeding.  You're going to want to take care of that sooner than later."  He drew out a first-aid box from one a compartment in the back and motioned for Isaac to remove his mask, a task that proved more difficult than the man had anticipated.  Skullface leaned forward and tugged the mask forward and up, revealing a face soaked with rain, sweat, and blood.

"Here," he offered Isaac a damp towel to soak up the blood, which he took silently.  "Can't tell if you have a concussion," he added, "but I don't think getting the shit kicked after you after you've been in a drug coma for two days is something the doctor would prescribe."  He motioned to the box.  "Supplies are in here.  Don't use them all.  And don't get your blood all over everything."

With that, he climbed over to the back row of seats, calling back to Isaac one additional time.  "Watch our six.  I don't know where the rest of Morgan's crew is, but they might try to follow us."

Isaac closed his eyes momentarily, leaning his head back against the side of the Jeep as he stretched his legs out.  Despite the cold air whipping him and the chilling rain soaking him through the roofless Jeep, Isaac could only focus on the swelling in his head and face.  When he reopened his eyes, he caught the final glimpses of the reddish blaze disappearing in the distance, leaving only a smokey trail of destruction in the sky.

For the first time in days, Isaac had a moment to stop and breath.  He took in a lung full of air, feeling it chill his chest with a bitter but welcoming bite.  "[color=goldenrod]Cold front.[/color]"  He muttered, though evidently louder than he expected.

"No shit, yeah?"  Nosering called back at Isaac.  "What else you got for us?"

Isaac turned glanced in the distance, where beyond the rain he could see the last remnants of sunlight falling beyond the horizon.  "[color=goldenrod]Temperatures are going to drop quickly over night.  Fifteen degrees.  maybe more.[/color]"

Nosering laughed, "What the hell are you, some kind of weather man?"

"[color=goldenrod]Yeah.[/color]"  He replied, wiping the last of the blood away from his nose.

"No shit!"  Nosering replied with a laugh.  "Gonna have to stop calling you New Guy and start calling you Weatherman."

It made no difference to Isaac, either way.  Names were not something worth keeping anymore.  "[color=goldenrod]We've had a stagnant system for the past few days with a lot of sun to warm up the ground.  But a low pressure cold front is moving in, cooling the hot air and causing precipitation.  This rain will turn to ice.  Possibly snow if it gets cold enough.[/color]."

Silence.  Nobody enjoyed hearing that it was going to rain ice on a vehicle already completely open to the elements.  Worse, there was no real safe cover anywhere and they had to stay on the move.

"Well goddamn, it's like I turned on the radio.  Whaddya have for sports?"  Nosering laughed.  And then stifled his laugh as the impact of Eddie's death finally hit him.

From that point on for the next few hours, the drive would be completely silent.