A scorching late afternoon sun had begun its slow descent down towards the hills and mountains of a valley within the Mojave Desert. Carving through this landscape was the worn and corroded asphalt of the once busy Route 66 highway. The towns that relied on the highway decayed into ghost towns and shoddy gas stations were speckled along every thirty miles of the highway, making it an ideal route for those that wish to traverse hundreds of miles with little to no witnesses. Among those, a solitary drifter speeds down the empty and dilapidated highway in a Pontiac Firebird Trans Am. Upon making a pitstop at an old gas station, the drifter spots and recognizes the signs of a female anthro victim of trafficking. And almost without thinking, the drifter felt in his heart he had to do something about it...
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