Solo
Day one, he knew this would take a while but, it'd be worth it. maybe.
He rolled the key between his fingers, wondering if maybe, things were better left untouched. That maybe, it was an invasion of something that he had no right to. But another part of him thought that leaving this alone would just be a shame. She'd not have wanted that. She'd been jubilant and always wanting others to get involved, always just..smiling. It made him sad.
But so did a lot of things he regret, like never really thanking her, even if she'd been odd, for her strange kindness and warmth.
Warmth so rare on the island these days.
The storage unit was large, and the death running the units gave him a skeptical look before telling him that he might have to wiggle the bolt a bit to get the door to lift. If it stuck the WD40 was over near the complex gates. It was oddly nice to be able to open the lock on his own, the door creaking with disuse, a year or more of unmoving leaving dust to gather in gears. When it lifted and the contents of the until came to light, (along with a cloud of dust and a healthy cough and sneeze fest), marcus stood in awe.
She'd painted it.
Rainbows.
How so very much like Julie.
The pain wasn't peeling, it was crisp and vibrant. The van itself looked fine. It wasn't locked, the keys to it sat idle in the car, ready for a driver that had long since departed. He didn't immedietly jump in, preferring to turn on the storage lights, to go around back, check under and over for any shadowlings that might have hidden away. It was safe though, clear of anything, even spiders. A benefit he guessed, of the mists of FEAR that killed all normal species.
A loud clang of metal as back doors opened. More dust, more rainbows. The back was mostly empty save for what he recognized as typical moon gear and equipment. In a corner was a small generator, attacked to an equally small hot plate in a makeshift and slightly unsafe 'grill' he was guessing. There was also an Ice cream machine, single serve, clean, half out of the box it had been shipped in. She had wanted a food truck.
On the plus side, she'd not left any food in the back.
Down side, in bright colorful letters on the van's inner walls, in her old hand painted words were 'MYSTERY MOON MACHINE'.
It was like she'd Lisa Frank'd her way to the 90s and back.
A year's plus worth of time to fester and rot would have been.. rather disgusting. Some things even Marcus couldn't stomach. Still, it was like looking through a window in a way, to the past that could have led to a different future, had there been..changes. Maybes. Ifs. It was hindsight, and it was unhelpful.
It was once a way to defend, once a dream to make food, now?
As Marcus opened the driver side door, he gingerly made his way to sit in the driver's seat, turned the key and after a few tries, he realized a fact.
The battery was probably dead.
Damn runics.
Day two, a new battery, gas, he'd called one of the ex car mechanics over, a sun hunter- they ran an inspection, a diagnostic. Drivable, but in need of an upgrade.
Day three- permission to get it upgraded off island, but he had only a few hours and a temporary pass with all the needed info. The place he'd been referred to knew he'd be arriving. They didn't ask questions. They just took the credit card he'd been given for 'funds allotted' and went to work. He'd get the van back in three days.
Three days later (day six) the van pickup went smoothly. The charges were average, and now it purred. The items in the back were untouched. He'd removed the hunter materials before he dropped it off now, it looked like an empty sad wannabe food cart.
Day 12, he'd been working hard, the ice cream machine was working. The temp generator kept the car from breaking it's own non runic gear.
Day 16, There was a hot water heater and a small microwave. He'd also made fastenings and sections for the gear.
Day 17, the gear was loaded for the first time in full. They tested the capacity. Everything fit, and there was space enough for three people.
Day 18- TEST DRIVE. Almost hit a pole. Didn't. Marcus considered it a victory even if the two moons with him had gotten carsick. Marcus never claimed to be the best driver.
Day 19- Marcus re-read over a driver's manual. It had been a few years.
Day 20- He found his old New York License. He'd need a fake one for the Van-. One visit to death and $50 out of pocket later he was now from Wyoming. He was also now Hanson. Marcus Hanson. He didn't bother getting it fixed.
Day 25- Marcus had a van, and it was ready for it's first mission.
