Eric was sitting in the pilots seat of what looked to be the worlds strangest, most massive motorcycle. It had two wheels on the front and one in the back, like a reverse tricycle. Extending from the center of each of the two front wheels, pointed forward, were 2 heavy machine guns. Long tubes hung below carrying the bullets from the body of the vehicle, above the fuel tank.
There was an aerodynamic canopy, and he had to lie down on his stomach to drive. The vehicle itself was made of clear, hollow plastic. Hollow of course being lighter, lighter being faster, and faster meaning you had higher chances of surviving an enemy encounter.
But there was a gas pumped into the tubes that changed color to the surroundings, effectively being the worlds best camouflage. The only flaw being it still looked like a heat wave, left tire tracks, and you could still see the driver. But hey, Eric thought. Sure beats having nothing.
He was sitting in a garage, a massive gray blast door in front of him. There were 6 others with him, in an arrow formation. He was just behind the arrows head, to the left. The only person in front of him was a very short man with brown hair. He looked to be about 25, 5 years older than Eric.
He also noticed that everyone else was very nervous. The last few recon missions hadn't gone too well. They hadn't found fresh water or food for three weeks, and no survivors had been found in almost a year.
But the man in front of him just looked excited, like he was happy to be sitting on the mammoth machine, heading into a barren world.
A hydraulic hiss sounded through the air, and the door started rising. Yellow warning lights flashed on either side at the top of the door, and a robotic voice warned to stand away from the door.
The arrow of pilots revved their engines, and once the door was high enough for them to clear they sped off into the moonlight.
They rode in silence, all except for the sound of the engines. Once they hit 5 miles, the plan was to split in to two teams of two and one team of three.
The mile marker came, and voices sounded off. "Blue Two, with me." called the man second from the back on the right. The man and the person behind him shot off toward the right, 90 degrees from the rest of the group. The same thing happened when the person behind Eric called for Green Two and they shot left. Then, unexpectedly, the person in front of Eric spoke. "Red Two and Three, follow me. Possible code 1."
Eric's heart beat almost as fast as he had to turn to keep from plowing into Red One. A code 1 was water. One of they're biggest shortages of water since the war began was taking a toll on him and the people around him. Eric briefly wondered how Red One could have seen water in the dark, but figured he must really think there's water there. Otherwise calling the premature code 1 would look bad on him for the rest of his career.
Besides, one way or another we're about to be on top of it.