He split ways with her reluctantly, but he knew better than to try and linger on whatever had made her upset. A bad dream, he had no doubt. Nothing that would stick with them along the way, nothing that would affect the mission. He met Letto in the armory and the two Striders loaded up their weapons, packed spare rounds and magazines, and got ready for the business of dealing death. Carson took a pistol from the rack and turned it over in his hands, inspecting the slide, the chamber, the magazine well. "What do you think, Letto? Think Malia could handle this?"<br/><br/><i>She can handle your gun, my friend. That pea shooter is nothing.<br/>
</i><br/>"What the hell, man?"<br/><br/>Entendre aside, he decided that the pistol would work well, and packed three full clips for it. Just in case. The pair of them moved to the Growlers after Carson told Sunny where they were headed. He took another moment to hug and kiss Malia before he clipped his pack into place on the heavy bike and swung his leg over. Two Growlers roared to life, and they both rolled out of Central, two Striders and one Runner turning toward Little Lake.<br/><br/>The trip wasn't long; with the Growlers, the town was less than half a day's travel from Central, and a few hours later they were rolling to a halt in a thick hollow of trees. Carson left Letto to conceal the bikes while he took the path with Malia, returning to the town with her. "I left Gregor's notes in the Wood House," he told her as they approached the gates. "Once I check them we'll know where to find the raiders. You can get the Runners here ready to go if they aren't already. Within the hour we'll be ready to strike, though, so if you're still coming with us I'm meeting Letto at the gates." He had become cold on the trip up, steeling himself to the task. His voice wasn't cruel, but it was distant and measured.