The vehicle was truly a marvel of engineering. The whole interior was the one of great space, with a living room like space squeezed in close to a storage. A metallic door at the front had a tag above it, written in readable yet ugly “Driver’s Room”, a smiling emote with sunglasses drewn close to it.
If one’d inspect the vehicle interior some close, he or she could count two ancient couches close to the driver’s door, with a coffee table with a neat array of wasted bullets on it also a part of the small “chill zone”. The rest was sparsely, nigh spartanically furnished.
Above one of the velvet couches was a inscription in some language.. One’d have to get closer to understand it.
But who would have time for it: the balaclava masked pony suddenly appeared from the driver’s door, which’d open automatically without a familiar glow of magical power. “Make yourself comfortable, kids. Our route will only take us a few minutes until the good gentleponies at the border are reached. After that it is full steam on to the first lootable urban area in our lovely Zone!” He announced, gesturing for the whole crew to make themselves at home theatrically, while Quickshot was priming that the ramp on the back of the vehicle (it’s entrance, duh) be raised after all got inside.