Keeping close to the fence, Electa edged toward the car. She listened intently as the vehicle came to a stop. There was the slam of a car door. Only one. Good, she thought. If one of their friends from the panhandle had somehow caught up with them, then they were in for a surprise.

Slow, uneven footsteps were approaching; they seemed to hang in the air. At the sound of them, Electa frowned in surprise. If she didn't know any better...

"All right, who's here?" bellowed a familiar voice. "I don't like unexpected visitors, so you better come on out and show yourself. 'Cause Ive got a gun, and I am not happy."

Electa's shoulders relaxed as joy and relief leaped through her. "It's Cully," she said to Vex. "Cull!" she called, putting her gun away. "Cull, it's me, Electa!"

Cully was peering at the car, a rifle held at the ready. He wore a sleeveless T-shirt and a pair of jeans that hid his prosthetic leg. At Electa's voice, he spun awkwardly, surprise overcoming his broad features. At first, he simply stared, looking startled...and then he started to smile. "It really is you!"

Electa strode toward him, smiling broadly. She and Cully embraced. Even after the accident that had cost him his leg, the big southerner was as muscular as ever. Cully squinted his blue eyes as the two pulled apart, pretending to appraise Electa. He shook his head. "You've gotten even uglier. How is it possible?"

"Hey, I'm just trying to be like you," said Electa with a grin. "Cully, what are you doing here? We thought--" Suddenly she remembered Vexin. Turning back to the car, Cully turned, too. His eyebrows flew up. "Well, looky here," he drawled. "Who's this?"

Vex peaked over the car, now very shy. His teal eyes where a little covered by his still electrocuted looking blond hair. It gave him a more rebel look than his black dyed tips did. He raised his hand a bit into view and gave a small wave and a soft high.

"You sure have got yourself a looker here, haven't you, girl? Now, sir, what are you doing with this reprobate? She'll lead you down the road to ruin, I promise you."

Electa felt heat creep across her face. "We're not..."

He blinked in an innocent manner, not sure what he meant. He came to a careful full stand and was a good bit taller than the top of the car its self. Yet he was still a shy boi. "Um, ruin is often a term used to describe something ancient and deteriorated and/or destroyed."Great first impression, Vex. Definin' a simple word. (<---Sarcasm)

Cully laughed a little. "Seems like you two aren't as different as you think. Well, in that case, why don't we three friends go and sit down for a while, have something cool to drink?"

"Great," said Electa. "You got one of the generators going, then?"

"Yeah, I'm staying in your dad's old place," said Cully as they started down the road. He walked stiffly, swinging his prosthetic leg with every step. "Can't really be seen from outside the enclosure, even when I've got my truck inside."

"How come youre out here on your own, instead of training new AKs somewhere? We thought the place was abandoned."

Cullys rifle hung from his hand, moving in time with his steps. "It's seen better days, and that's a fact," he said.

"As to what I'm doing out here, me and the CIA don't get along," Cully went on. "So I'm just holding down the old fort. Somebody's got to." They reached the house that Electa's father had lived in--one of the smallest buildings in the enclosure but the only one offering any real privacy. Cully opened the door and switched on the light. Electa stepped inside the main room. It was like stepping back in time; the place was exactly the same as it had been the last time she'd seen it--the scuffed table and chairs; the beat-up sofa that doubled as a bed. Her father's maps on the wall were still the only decoration, with red pins showing suspected angel locations from over two years ago. The generator hummed faintly in the background.

Vex stayed along, just sorta gave them their space. Hands deep in his pockets and eyes almost fully hidden by his hair that dangled in his face.

"Home, sweet home," said Cully, propping the rifle against the cement block wall. "So what are y'all doing here, anyway? I had just gone on my monthly supply run; I swear I couldn't believe it when I got back and saw that so-called car sitting there. Good God, how'd you even get that thing out here without blowing it up?"

Electa laughed. "It wasn't easy. I thought we were going to be buzzard food a few times." She dropped onto one of the scuffed wooden chairs. "And as for what were doing here..." Electa shook her head, not really sure where to begin. "It's a long story."

"Well, in that case, we need a drink to help it along," said Cully. "Lemme see what Ive got to wet our whistles." He lurched his way into the small kitchen, humming to himself.

Something wasn't right.

He had an odd feeling about something, he didn't think it was anything though. He just thought he was being paranoid, but he'd had a feeling about the girl at the diner so he might not be able to ignore this feeling very well. He took a chair besides Electa, though he was a little scared that his weight from his height would break it.

Cully reappeared, holding a bottle and two glasses. There was a clinking noise as he set the glasses on the table. "You're in luck, my friend, I still got some Mr. Beam. And how about you?" he asked Vexin. "You up for a drink?"

Being a good, shy little boi inside, he shook his head as he tried to push some hair from his teal eyes. "No th-thank you."