Day 11: Hunting Shadows In The Sand (Five Klicks)
From the Journal of Maya Ceros, Day 11.
It's been almost two weeks since we set out from Cinder Hill. When we left, I didn't know what we'd find, who we'd lose, or if we'd even meet anybody along the way. In the time that's passed, we've lost some good people, some friends, but we've also made a lot of new friends, and our convoy has grown. In some ways, I feel like a real leader, guiding our little wasteland nation toward whatever unknowable fate awaits us.
But after today, I know one thing for sure. We're not just a smattering of trucks and SUVs bumping along a rutted road anymore. No. Now, we have a war rig.*
The day started simply enough. I sat down with Greene and started discussing a direction to head in, asking him if he knew the area and if he knew of any settlements that might have good trade or need a hand in exchange for scrap, guns, gas, anything to keep us rolling. Like usual, he knew a place, a little pocket of civilization in the wasteland, and showed me on his map roughly where it was. Sally and I talked about a route, about Greene's point on the map, but the wind had us worried. By the time we got to the outskirts of the place, we were in the midst of a full-on sandstorm, and visibility was about as crappy as I've ever seen it.
Still, wasn't thick enough to hide the fact that whoever Greene had known at the spot was dead, wiped out. Nomads had moved in, we found out later, but when we arrived, it was just us and them, just guns stalking shadows in the sand.