The Wanderer

     “With a heavy heart we all accepted the inevitable but I did not and could not just lay down my life to this fate. It was then that I found a way to make Turnkey a reality and I found a way to alter the fate of mankind.” –Wayne Turner

 

The lights flickered on and off, depicting a dank bar scene. Since the discovery of Turnkey there shouldn’t have been much wrong with the power, maybe they just tried to make it feel as miserable as possible to force the bar patrons to drink more just to find any comfort there. It was quiet and all of the patrons seemed disinterested in one another. Everywhere in the bar looked grungy and uninviting. Not that it would be his problem in a few more minutes.

     “You feelin’ ok friend?” the bartender asked half-heartedly. He knew no one in here looked all that well but he must’ve looked like a special kind of hell to even get that much attention. He didn’t respond, instead just nodding his head on instinct. His hood covered most of his face and the overcoat he wore was nothing more than tatters. He had slumped himself onto the bar looking like a mess to try to dissuade people from talking to him. He was waiting for someone else after all.

     On the far side of the bar the automatic door whirred to life, separating to reveal a haggard looking man draped in a long coat and over embellished cowboy hat. The opening of the door brought in enough light to rouse a grumbling response from the other bar patrons. The man in the cowboy hat gave a quick glimpse around the bar, didn’t seem to find anything interesting so he strode up to the counter.

     “Whiskey, straight,” the cowboy ordered. The bartender dusted off a glass and poured brown liquid out of an unlabeled bottle. He couldn’t tell if it was in fact whiskey that he poured but the man in the cowboy hat didn’t seem to pay it any heed. The cowboy turned to face him at the bar.

     “What’s your name?” the cowboy leveled the question directly at him. He cast his eyes downward, away from the cowboys’.

     “Good luck gettin’ anything outta him, hasn’t said a damn word since he got here. Didn’t order anything either, poured him a beer but he hadn’t drank any of it,” the barman offered. 

     “That so?” the cowboy sounded intrigued.

“Figured maybe he traveled a little too long in the

sun, fried his brain up a little. Folks murmured something about him callin' him ‘The Wanderer’ on account of him always bein’ in a bunch of different places like he ain't never home. Sorta pops up out of the blue I guess,” the bartender shared.

“‘The Wanderer’ eh?” He thought to himself. Guess he

earned himself a nickname. This put him at an advantage though, he knew who the cowboy was and thankfully the cowboy didn’t recognize him. The cowboy’s name is Taylor Dunham. Taylor came from North Dakota before the shit hit the fan. He has been tracking Taylor for weeks all through the desert that used to be Utah. Straight-from-the-farm Taylor Dunham found himself joined up with some slavers.

     Once the Earth shifted its orbital proximity closer to the Sun, a large middle portion of the Earth became scorched. This came to be referred to as 'the belt.' When the Earth came close enough to the Sun to physically burn the middle of the planet, it also fried all electronics and communication networks. Everyone started to set out to find their families when the burning had stopped. Unfortunately that's where the slavers come in. All these people wandering out to find their families found themselves rounded up by newly formed slaver groups and sold off to whoever could pay. More often than not they never made it back to their families but are more likely sold off to city governments.