Second Wind

Chapter 14: Seeking out the Spark

Blake was now on her way to the Saint Clair Shores, hoping to find the store that the bartender had told her of - she could only hope that the store could provide her with what she needed. But first, she had to see if the store was even there in the first place. With that in mind, she hit the pedal to the metal as she stormed down the Interstate - it was clear that she did not want to spend even a single second slacking off or being on the weak end. The journey from Brightmoor to the shores would last for 30 minutes, but as always, with the roadblocks forcing her to slow down from time to time during her drive to the suburban neighborhood, it meant that the journey ended up taking close to an hour. Nevertheless, without much trouble, she was able to get there unscathed. When she arrived at Saint Clair, she was quick to notice how quiet the place was.

Sure, basically every neighborhood was rendered relatively silent and devoid of activity due to the Pathfinder running rampant and rendering the streets a complete and utter hazard, but this silence felt rather...unnatural. She could not help but feel like she was being watched as soon as she showed up, and with that paranoia rooted within her conscience, she quickly pulled her hood over her head to mask herself before quickly getting a move on. It did not take her long for her to reach Gaffke Park, which immediately gave her the indication that she was now close to her destination. All she had to do now was to seek out anything which could hint of the weapon store's existence. If only she could ask around, but there was virtually no one around her, much to her utter chagrin.

It did not help that the lack of life around here made the whole place feel like a complete ghost town - the atmosphere of the town felt immensely unnerving and unsettling, but Blake did not want to get involved with that. She was not even keen on letting the environment sink into her mentally as well, given how much she was in a hurry. After spending a few minutes roaming about whilst keeping herself close to the park's proximity, she soon found the store that she was looking for - the Tactical Ground. However, she immediately noticed that there was something up with this place when she parked at the sidewalk in front of the store.

Firstly, the store was far from perfect condition.

The store looked to have sustained signs of vandalism and small explosions, as two of the four walls which made up the store exterior were revealed to be blown off, with the remainder heavily spray-painted on. The entrance door was nowhere to be seen, implying that the door had been ripped off its hinges. There was no ceiling on the store at all - it most likely collapsed due to a lack of support from the damaged walls. But strangely enough, the whole state of the store was not what bothered her the most.

It was the fact that she knew there was someone inside.

What gave it away was the lantern that could be found on a table that she could notice within the building's 'interior'. The fact that it was still lit meant that there had to be someone within the area - while this made her incredibly uneasy, it also left her rather curious as she thought about what this discovery meant to her.

Just how big was that store?

Well, that was for her to find out for herself. Deciding to begin her investigation of the store, she kept her bike parked to the sidewalk before turning the engine off. Once that was out of the way, she got herself off her ride before beginning to approach the partially bombed-out building. The building itself was not too big, meaning that she could clear this place in a matter of minutes if she were to rush things. However, she only wanted to rush here, not rush the reason as to why she was here. When she found herself staring at the gaping entrance door, she merely stared through the hole as she gazed at the whole building and how much it was in ruins. Upon glancing over at some of the walls that were left mercifully untouched, she was quick to notice what seemed to be outlines on the walls - after realizing that they were outlines of weapons, she was now certain over the possibility that the place had been ransacked, either before, during, or after the store's destruction.

However, that was all she saw. Weapon outlines on the walls that were still standing. Knowing that she needed to be more up-close with this investigation, she quickly stepped through the entrance before beginning her search as she attempted to rummage through some of the debris in hopes of scavenging anything that she could find useful. And yet, all she could find was an increasing amount of rubble and ruin as time wore on. The more area she covered, the less hopeful she had gotten - she was starting to believe that there really was nothing to find here, and that the place had been looted until nothing was left. When she reached the very edge of the northwestern part of the store, she was met with literally nothing but the corner of the wall and partially damaged tiles. Realizing that she came here for virtually nothing, she could only let out a somewhat irritated sigh as she folded her arms and thought to herself involving her lack of results in her little scavenger hunt.

Surely there had to be something here that she was not noticing - something that was hidden from view. After all, explosives are not something that is sold over the counter. She took one good look at the ground, placing her hands and letting out a sigh as she tried to think of the possibilities that were being presented within her mind. They must be hidden, no? Somewhere out of reach so that people are unable to procure it easily. Deciding that it was best to consult with the bartender on what she found, she quickly pulled out her cellphone, dialing a number soon afterward as she placed the phone to her ear - it only took her seconds for her to hear the bartender's voice on the receiving end of the call.

"Ah, hey there. Have you found what you're looking for?"

"Tch, I wish...there's literally nothing here. Damn place is in utter ruins, and whatever weapons here have been stolen, no doubt by those Pathfinder scum. It was worth a shot, but I genuinely don't see anything here other than rubble."

"Damn...have you looked through the whole store?"

"Yep. There really ain't much to find. I should really just head back home, honestly."

"No, no. Hold on just a moment. Are you SURE that you've checked everything this store has to offer?"

"...the hell are you implying, dude?"

"I remember working there for a while before I started becoming a bartender permanently. There was always something underneath the store itself where certain things were stored in...I think you had to mess with something on one particular section of the floor in order for you to gain access to what lied below. I don't know if anyone has managed to find that place yet, but it's definitely worth a shot. You might need to clear the rubble if the specific tile section is actually underneath all that ruin."

"Sounds like a lot of work for just a couple of explosives."

"A small price to pay for invaluable offensive tools, no?"

"I guess so...how do I know if I found the right floor tiles, anyway? It sounds like that one specific section would be indistinguishable compared to the rest of the tiles here in the store..."

"If I can recall properly, you'll need to see the small lines of cement that separate the tiles from each other. You'll know the tiles are fake when the lines of cement are just about wider than the other lines."

"Hmm...I'll try and have a look. Thanks for the intel. You think you could've told me this earlier."

"I...didn't really think too far ahead there. Sorry."

"Eh, no big deal, I guess. I'll call you once I'm done with my search."

With that, she quickly hung up before momentarily looking down at the rubble-ridden floor. Knowing that this was going to take a while for her to clear out all the ruin that was scattered on the floor, she let out a somewhat frustrated sigh before beginning her word, not wanting to waste any more time. Although she wanted to get it over with quickly, she knew that she had to do this in a more slow and steady fashion - any semblance of recklessness could potentially injure her. The fact that she had to take it slow in some parts of her arduous meant that she was always continually exasperated mentally. However, she had to get the job done - it was the only way for her to see the entire floor in order for her to seek out the fake tiles that the bartender had mentioned.

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She ended up spending a good amount of time cleaning the place up - two hours, to be more accurate. It was tough work, yes, but she was able to get the job done either way, with her managing to kick off most of the rubble off the floor and onto the ground surrounding the building itself. And whatever she could not kick off, she was able to fling away without too many troubles. With the store getting a much needed facelift in the form of that cleanup session that the vigilante had, she could now focus on actually finding the fake tiles that were hidden somewhere on the floor. Before she could get to that, however, she stepped backward as she leaned up to an undamaged wall, taking a deep breath before slinking down into a seating position as she rested herself on the semi-dusted floor. It was clear that she was relatively fatigued after doing all that menial labor, and she needed to catch her breath for a while.

There was a lot going through her mind right now - her plan involving the explosives, her thoughts on what she should do in the near future should she be successful in her endeavor in rooting out the drug problems in Brightmoor, and more importantly, about her current state. She stared into her palms, her mind still trying to cope with what she has become. It's not that she was scared of herself, but she was rather...confused by how she had ended up this way. How she ended up here, alive and breathing.

There are so many people who are dying in the States. Some already dead. And of all the people in the nation, she ended up picking her. She could not help but wonder why that was the case. In fact, she was rather exasperated over the fact that she did not pose the question to them at all when she was resurrected that day. Perhaps a day will come where she can ask them the question herself...but now was not that day. After managing to put her mind mostly at peace, she pulled herself back up to her feet, having managed to regain at least bit of her energy back as she cracked her knuckles before taking one good look at the floor in front of her, attempting to seek out the fake tiles by being intensely observant about the lines of cement that separated them. It was hard to concentrate on them, sure, but she knew that she had to maintain her focus regardless, no matter how disoriented she may end up getting.

After spending a few minutes staring at the floor, she immediately found herself fixating on a set of four tiles that were situated in the dead center of the floor - the cement lining between those particular tiles looked slightly wider and less filled compared to the rest of the cement lines, indicating that she might have found exactly what she was looking for. With her conscience now fixated on the presumably false tiles, she walked up to it, taking one good look at it so that she could confirm her suspicions. Once she was certain that her eyes were not playing tricks on her, another question soon popped up in her mind.

Now that she found the tiles, how must she find her way underneath them? It did not look to be a trapdoor of sorts, nor did it look like anything which would function as a downward elevator...well, if it was neither of those things, then there was only one way for her to find out for herself. It was time to bring out Old Reliable. She brought out her shotgun that was slung behind her back, c*****g the firearm before aiming it at the four tiles and unloading a shell, blasting them and damaging them heavily in the process. When she saw the tiles c***k whilst some fragments were blown apart and sent flying off, she immediately noticed what looked like a gap between the semi-broken tiles. Realizing that there was a hole underneath the false tiles, she c****d her gun once again before unloading yet another shell - this time, the tiles would meet their match as they were effortlessly destroyed, with the pieces blown off the floor and scattered everywhere.

With the hole now exposed, she slings her shotgun behind her back once more as she walked up to it before staring down at it, revealing a metal ladder integrated into the rocky earth which functioned as a wall. In Blake's point of view, perhaps the tiles had to be removed by hand individually in order to reveal the hole, but she really did not have the patience nor the enthusiasm to do that, so she just chose the easy route in that regard. Knowing that she should progress further, she got herself onto the ladder before beginning to climb her way down, with her surrounding area growing darker the further she descended into the depths. Considering how the darkness was proving to be a massive hindrance, she was quick to bring her phone out and utilize its flashlight function once she managed to reach the end of the ladder.

As she shines the light in front of her, she finds herself staring at a long corridor which was partially fortified with metal walls on her sides as well as above and below her, implying that this place was meant to be used as a bunker or a storage unit of sorts. Deciding to press on with her search mission, she began walking down the corridor - all while keeping herself vigilant by having her pistol in her hand, on the ready. However, it seemed like there was no one here at all. The quiet that dominated the hallway was rather unsettling, given how the store itself possessed an abandoned nature in the first place. It took her about a full minute for her to reach the end of the hallway, and when she managed to make her way there, she noticed a metal door in front of her with a handle at the center of the door that took the form of a three-spoke safe handle.

There was no peephole, no sliding eye hole, nothing. It was purely just a metal door - nothing less, nothing more. The handle was most definitely there to get the door open, too. Speaking of the handle, it looked rusted beyond repair. What was once a silver handle was now overwhelmed with a coarse brown. As she places her hand against the rust-ridden handle, she then attempts to twist it, hoping to spin it in order to get the door to open up - however, she is met with relatively strong resistance due to the rest that had developed on the handle, and upon realizing that she was unable to turn the handle with only one hand, she immediately holstered her pistol before grabbing the rusty handle with both of her hands as she began to twist it with all of her might.

After having to deal with that fierce resistance again, she was finally able to make the handle rotate as she began to exert more of her strength upon realizing that she was beginning to make some progress in her efforts. It soon reached a point where her force proved to be too much, and just like that, she ended up breaking the handle right off the door as it disintegrated into a dusty mess once she dropped it down to the ground. As soon as she processed what she had just done, she just blankly stared at the door before letting out an undoubtedly irritated groan - she had just ruined her chances of getting through that door. However, she was quick to realize that she literally ripped it off. Sure, it took some effort, but she did not expect to complete such a feat. Because of this, she took one good at her hands, her mind relatively blank with surprise for a brief moment before she heard the sounds of light creaking from the door.

When she shifted her attention towards the door, she noticed that the door was now slightly ajar - turns out that when she tore the handle off, it also resulted in the lock connected to the handle to disintegrate as well, causing the door to lose its locked state. Finding this to be a lucky stroke of fortune, she merely let out a sigh as she pushed the door open, revealing the room's contents on the other side. Once the door was fully open, she saw a stockpile of crates and sacks. The faint sound of droning could be heard as well, but she could not identify the source of the noise. It was probably some ventilation fan or something like that. Deciding that it was best to take a look at what was within the crates and sacks, she made her way towards them, opening them up in order for to see the contents, and sure enough, the bartender was right - she found herself staring at explosives of various types.

There were grenades of many kinds within the sacks, and there were a lot of varying bombs in the crates. Perfect. However, she knew that she was unable to bring all of them back to Brightmoor, and even if she were to carry some explosives by hand, it would not be enough for her to blow up the buildings in which the Pathfinder operated in for their drug-related activities. It was clear that she needed some help here. With that in mind, she brought her phone out to make a phone call, but upon learning that there was virtually no signal underground, she quickly backtracked as she returned above ground in a matter of minutes - from there, she dialed the bartender's number, with his voice eventually showing up just mere seconds later.

"I'm assuming you've found what you're looking for?"

"Mhm. But here's the thing, though. There's a lot of explosives here...I don't see myself being able to take them all with me on one trip. You think you can help me out with this?"

"...you have got to be kidding me."

"Hey, it's either that or the drugs continue to run rampant all over the streets of the city. Both you and I know how much we need these explosives right now. Just hurry over here and try to help me out, will ya?"

A sigh could be heard from the bartender before ultimately coming to an agreement.

"Alright, I'll be right there. Did you spot any suspicious activity while you were on the way to Saint Clair?"

"Not really..."

"Right then. I'll get there with my pickup truck as soon as possible."

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After an hour had passed, the bartender soon showed up at the bombed out building, leaving him surprised as he saw the state of the area. Blake would be seen standing just outside of the store, in front of the entrance as she walked up to the pickup truck as soon as she spotted the vehicle - once she was basically standing a few meters in front of the driver seat's window, the bartender shut the truck's engine off before opening the door and getting off, giving the vigilante a wave as he spoke up.

"Well, I never thought I would see myself stepping out of Brightmoor, and yet...here we are. I guess you know where the goods are?"

"Mhm. Like you said, it's down below. We gotta load everything up and get moving before attention starts getting attracted towards us. I'll carry the sacks, you carry some of the crates. That sound good?"

"Eh, can't argue with that logic."

"Good, let's get to work, then."

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Getting the explosives from the bunker to the pickup truck proved to be a lot harder than what they had anticipated - sure, getting the sacks of grenades out were easy enough, but then came the crates where the C-4s and other types of bombs were stored in. Seeing how it was virtually impossible for her and the bartender to get the crates out due to them being unable to use the ladder whenever they are occupied with the boxes, it was safe to say that both of them were left frustrated, especially Blake. With all of the sacks, ten in total, being placed at the back of the pickup truck, Blake was left wondering on what she must do now. She was seen standing above ground, in front of the hole leading into the bunker as she stared down with a thoughtful look on her face. The bartender was busy checking the sacks to make sure that they have procured all of them, and once he had his uncertainties pushed aside with his inspections, he quickly shifted his attention towards the vigilante as he walked towards her, coming to a stop once he was a few steps beside her. After approaching her, a conversation was sparked as he spoke.

"It looks like we're at an impasse..."

"Yeah...I'm not really sure how to deal with this one. The damn crates are huge..."

"Well, we don't need all of the explosives, no? Ten sacks of grenades are already so many to begin with..."

"I get that it sounds like a lot, but those grenades won't do much damage on the outside...they should be more than enough for the time being, but in my later ventures...I know it won't be sufficient enough."

"So what do you suggest we do, then?"

He was met with silence, indicating that Blake was not too certain on what must be done. Realizing that there really was little that they could do to remedy this issue, the vigilante let out a sigh of defeat as she glances over at the bartender before giving him a response which reflected her current state of mind.

"We can't bring the crates directly, that's for sure...we'll have to leave them here for the time being. I was thinking of emptying the crates, but when I looked at some of them, they were carrying things like sticky bombs...and I'm sure you don't want bombs like that sticking to your truck, ya know?"

"...can't argue with you on that."

"Besides, those sacks are at full capacity as well, so we can't store the crates' contents in them...I think we'll leave for now and come back here at another time."

"And when is that another time, exactly?"

"I'll think about that later! There's other things to focus on, dude! Other PRESSING things!"

"...right."

Feeling momentarily frustrated, the vigilante could only let out a groan as she moved her attention away from the conversation, effectively ending it as she headed back towards her motorcycle.

"Come on, let's get out of here. We'll return back to the store tomorrow. But for now, these grenades are more than enough. There isn't any time to waste - I've got some drugs to bust."