At the abandoned tunnel entrance, A-Train stretched, grinding the gravel beneath his shoes into powder.
He did not want to get involved.
But the things Butcher had on him were even more deadly.
Rigged races.
The Female.
Robin.
And records of him secretly continuing to use Compound V.
If all that information came out at once, he would not even qualify to be Vought's dog anymore.
"Fuck."
A-Train cursed.
The next second, only a long afterimage remained in the tunnel.
On the trail behind the mountain.
Mother's Milk supported Butcher, his forehead covered in sweat.
Butcher's right leg dragged along the ground, blood soaking his trouser leg. With every step, the broken bone ground against his flesh.
Hughie supported his other side, but kept one hand in his pocket.
The vials of fluorescent green liquid rested against his palm.
When Lucian had handed him the drugs, he had been very blunt.
"This stuff will give you strength and awaken your superpowers."
"The price is certain death twenty-four hours later."
Hughie had stared at those vials, with only one thought in his head.
This stuff should never have existed.
It turned people into gamblers.
Trading their lives for a chance.
He despised this stuff.
But now, purple lightning was pressing down from the sky, Butcher's leg was ruined, and A-Train might not even be reliable.
The injections in his pocket seemed to have become their only way out again.
"Hurry up!"
Butcher shoved him.
"Are you taking a fucking stroll while carrying a cripple?"
"Shut up."
Mother's Milk looked grim.
"Your leg's broken. Stop fucking moving."
Butcher grinned.
"My leg's broken, not my mouth."
"Your mouth should've been broken ages ago."
Hughie could not help snapping back.
But Butcher did not curse back. He only said quietly,
"Sorry, lads."
A rumble