A group of friends

Outside, the rain drummed a steady rhythm as a group of friends tinkered away in their secluded garage. Nestled far from anything, the only way in was by car, leaving them mostly to their own company and the thumping bass from a boombox. They were breathing life back into a small, battle-worn truck, its body a mosaic of rust, yet still a loyal companion

"How much longer, Kev? We're gonna miss the game"
one of them called out

Kevin, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow with the back of a greasy hand, was wrestling with a stubborn bolt. A couple of his mates, already on a break, had their eyes glued to a football game, their enthusiasm for repairs waning with the fading light

"All that's left is to see if she'll run"
Kevin grunted, setting his tools down with a clatter. His friend just shrugged, watching as Kevin climbed into the driver's seat. The truck coughed to life, lurching forward, when suddenly, a shout halted him

"Kevin!"

A figure materialized out of the downpour, directly in front the garage. Kevin, his reflexes sharp, managed to slam on the brakes just in time