"I'll explain at Central." Once she was on and secured he took off, glancing at the speedometer to make sure he didn't go too fast over the unpaved path. He had learned once the hard way that the dirt roads might seem flat on foot, but on a Growler it was entirely different. Even a slight bump could throw the entire machine off course, and with how heavy it was that could be disastrous. He held steady until they reached what had once been a highway, the desiccated hulks of ancient cars that hadn't been as fortunate as his bike lining the sides, a makeshift wall for travelers to hide behind and a barrier to the raiders that would otherwise attack them.<br/><br/>After another thirty minutes he turned off through a narrow gap in the wrecks and down a narrow dirt path that led toward a fairly nondescript hill. He slowed to a crawl, rumbling down through the grass, and came to a halt in front of a large, smooth round concrete structure, shaped like a third of a bowl that had been scooped out of the side of a low hill. A metal plate sat squarely in the center of the scoop, and he drove up until the front wheel was almost touching the metal. He stood then and flipped open a small panel next to the door, where he punched in a brief code, and a loud buzzing noise broke through over the low growl of the bike. The metal plate split in half and opened slowly, the ground vibrating slightly from the intensity of it. When it was all the way open, Carson took the bike and rode inside, down a metal ramp and then off to the side, where he parked the Growler next to a row of almost identical units.<br/><br/>He turned it off and tugged the scarf and goggles free, draping both over the handles. He turned to her with a little sigh. "Welcome to Central," he said quietly, his voice soft after the rumbling and roaring of machinery. He led her deeper into the tunnel as the metal doors ground shut behind them, down into the 'town' proper. Central proved to be somewhat on the small side; the bunker opened up so that the ceiling was some ten feet tall, and several smaller doors, rigged to makeshift hinges, led into side rooms. Near the back of the space there was a second large door, but the panel to open it was wide open and had a few dozen wires sticking out. "The facility is much bigger from the maps we've found," he explained, "but we can't figure out how to get past that door just yet. It's only a matter of time--if need be we can just blow it up or weld through." He turned down the hall in front of it, then pushed through a doorway with his name written in box letters across the front.<br/><br/>"This is where I call home when I'm not out in the field," he said, gesturing. The room wasn't too large, and a trio of large, somewhat flat-looking cushions were pushed up against one wall. A series of metal shelves along one wall held a number of books, dilapidated and ancient, and a desk with a rolling chair was littered with detailed maps and settlement notes. "We've come a long ways, and it's getting late. I know it isn't exactly a stuffed mattress like at the house, but this is what we've got," he said, indicating the cushions as he began the process of disarming and disrobing, hanging everything from hooks next to the door.