Rowdy Dead Productions

By David C. Daoust

Charles the First was starting to lose hope. The First Wave teen started his search with a full complement of crew members. Even had Farrah set up a relay among separate Rovers spread throughout the moon… They all played along for days and days. Yet, the longer the search went on, the more members started to cop-out.

Charles watched as the small transport suddenly launched back up into the air, headed back to their Rover. Taking with it, two more members of his search party. These two technically had not ‘copped out’, so much as, ‘got their rides stripped for parts’. Though considering they had parked them and found a shaded area to snog under, they were pretty much out of the search long before the battle drones showed up to render their ‘screamers to pieces small enough to haul away.

It was not hard to fathom why the other First Wave were leaving it be. There was talk it was all Craiden’s doing. Most of the First Wave thought he was still out there, somewhere. And if they could not find the Rover, then it was because he did not want them to find it. First Wave wasn’t really going to worry over other First Wave’s actions. Ratchet was Craiden’s cousin, thus, it all added up in a way that told them they should mind their own business.

Charles the First, however, knew that Ratchet would find a way to send word to him, or his father. Especially with how many chaotic things had happened—and especially if Craiden was behind it all. Charles could not explain the battle drones continued activities, though he had witnessed them battling each other in his last encounter with him. This all added up to him in a way that said it was one hundred percent his business.

Standing there alone in the desert, skyscreamer still parked where he’d hopped off it, he could hear the familiar scream before he actually saw the vehicle. The red glint of the Skyscreamer’s paint job gave him momentary hope that it may be his lost brother come to relieve him from his search—instead found his grandfather manning the controls.

Charles had to assume they were the last of them. The last of those out in the desert physically searching for the lost Rover. He knew Farrah was back at base still raising hell, but she had not seen what he saw of the search party. Charles was worried everyone else was all just talk at this point, pretending to be on board.

This overabundance of worry on the teens mind, did not make for a very warm greeting for his Grandfather. He didn’t give him much more than a questioning nod.

“Farrah wanted me to swing by to check on your comm,” Grandpa Haul explained. “I was actually just a bit east from here.”

“The silence is probably getting to her too,” Charles mused as he glanced back at his vehicle, where said comm was located, “They were checking in every hour on the hour… I guess I never really realized how big this moon really was.”

“Oh, we’ll find‘em,” Grandpa Haul reassured. “Ratchet, he’s a Haul– a smart one too. Gets it from your mother-”

Charles witnessed his Grandpa react to something behind him. Half expecting a Battle Drone angling to strip his ‘screamer, he spun about pretty quick. Found his vehicle just fine, but out beyond the ridge, a ship suddenly shot straight up into the air. The saucer-like vehicle turned in a wide arch… just to do a full-on nosedive into the ground!

The explosion followed soon after!

“Final Will! ” Grandpa Haul exclaimed. “We better get– make sure no one’s hurt!”

Charles was with him in action as he hopped back onto his vehicle and fired it back up.

The two Charles Haul’s vehicles screamed through the skies as they went to investigate the crash.