Joy effortlessly maneuvered the wide body of the truck past dangerous outcroppings and jagged ridges, one such rock stuck out so prominently that Avalon had to swerve around it suddenly. Knowing that a move so sudden would tend to dislodge or let object that weren't tied down to drift inside the truck, Joy radioed every room with an apology, "Sorry about that." She turned the radio off, knowing it would consume a miniscule portion of the batteries, that was charged by the coolly running engines, which were fed by a half-empty fuel tank. Once she was back on the road, Joy found the path to become less bumpy.<br/><br/>Running cold and slow meant that lights were dimmed, but also needed hologauges were turned off. Security cameras were disabled, hiding the fiasco in the garage and the two in the kitchen. In the garage room and the higher-placed control platform, all was quiet. Just the low rumble of the cool running engine, the rolling of the tires kicking up pebbles and rocks that flew and lightly banged on the underside of the chassis, and the constant beep of the radar. Joy had to have it open, consider Firestone's advice to watch out for bandits in Old Appalachia. When they were stopped in the last town, Joy had watched a breaking news program of a large convoy, obviously traveling fast and hot in the desert, get ambushed by hostile nomads. Men were either found dead, nearly dead, or both conditions in humiliating positions. Women were found alive, but humiliated and used. Nothing like this type of bad news had shocked Joy, for she along with some of the others on the team grew up in such worlds. It was fortunate she had a father, whose picture sat tucked in a blown out AC module above Joy. He had been very protective over her daughter after Joy's mother mysterious disappeared. Her father said bandits were to blame and Joy simply forgot all about her.<br/><br/>Joy, after watching the news program, was only wary about the dangers of the road. Firestone's advice had strengthened that wariness and made this trip so goddamned long and slow. Avalon just had to be extra careful, with one eye on the road and one eye on the radar.<br/><br/>Suddenly, she heard the sound of her 3-REX turning on and revving up. "Who the hell?" she asked aloud, though no one was in the spacious room to hear her. She screamed behind her, assuming it was either the mechanic or the technician making last-minute adjustments to her trike. "WIGGY! FRANKIE! Stop messing around with my REX!" she screamed. Half of her anger was due to her protectiveness over her vehicle and half was due to the fact that a loud engine revving would result in camping bandits to hear it. Though they wouldn't be able to track the truck via sound detection, the engine roar will certainly alert them to a passing craft, which they could see on infrared or thermal.