Who am I? I am what has become so common in my profession these days, a traveling doctor, rushing from one crisis to another, trying to do the job I have always done. And that is save live. In my years of traveling in the remains of what was the great United States, now reduced to a crippled, bloody, and broken, healing country. I have experienced much death, seen what has happened, and I finally decided maybe I should tell what I have seen. That is what this book is.

I ,too, had a life before the war. I had a family too. Not that it really matters now. They, like the life I once led, is gone. Like D.C. and Oklahoma, nothing but footnotes in a country that seems only to have footnotes. I live currently in Austin, in what used to be a strip mall before the war.

Many put doctors down now because of the deaths and plagues that ravage the planet. This, I hope, will put them in my shoes. Make it so they know what I must go through ever day of my life.

The Attack at Death's Pass:

During the government's raids in the Outlands, they hired out about 100 or so doctors to take care of casualties. We, however, got more than we bargained with at Deaths Pass. It's area where a nuke made about 4 miles wide ditch in a way so that it is the only place to pass without having to worry about rads. Basically, by my understanding, They used several 'Dirty' bombs and several 'Clean' bombs in a way so that the long term dirty bombs created a long three miles wide 40 mile long strip of radiation. But that the one of the short term 'Clean' bombs made a ditch where it goes under the rad zone. I don't know quite how, but it works.

The leader of our group, consisting of four thousand marines, was Commander Davis. A real strict man, the took absolutely no bullshit, and also made sure all codes were followed to the letter. I even heard rumors of how before the war he had dishonorably discharged a whole unit of marines when he found out about "hazing in" of new troops. I found him to be rather lacking on supplies for us however, ever though the marines had state of the art weapons and armor. Maybe he wasn't expecting very many casualties. Maybe he didn't think it was a good idea to scrape very much off of his funding to put in for some more medicine.

But, anyway, the medical crew and I were riding in a pair of APC toward the back of the caravan when we approached Death Pass. The troops had picked off two or three groups of raiders that day, so they decided nothing more was going to happen. The commander decided it would be a waste of time and a risk of precious men by sending a scouting crew around the canyon. BIG mistake. Halfway through, It was raining missiles.

Fortunately for us, they were not penetrating the tanks and Apcs. Unfortunately, the solders outside were not so lucky. I could see them, talking the hits scrambling, some right into the deadly rain's path. Chaos rained supreme. Men scrambled to and fro to find the location of this devastating onslaught, and when they did, the 200mm cannons blasted out chunks of the canyon wall, taking with them the raiders.

Now, to most anyone who watches the news, you've heard this before. And still people argue if the commander did the right thing. But this is where my story begins. I after taking a few moments to put two and two together to get four, I leaped out onto the ground, dragging along a pale young muscle bound 20-something and stretcher. Now after a few years of doing this job, they say it only takes seconds to realize who needs your attention the most. While this might not always be true, in this case it was.

Also sometimes in a medical career, you would like the person you are working on to be the other sex or slightly lighter/darker skinned. This isn't racist, It's just that it is easier to take care of the problem if it was. In this case, it was a REAL problem. The man was lying on the ground covered with shrapnel from where the night armor had blown, from the fragments of his rifle handle, and from the rockets themselves. Add to this a very black man whose armor was black, you got problems. Not to mention the number of younger, inexperienced, doctors. I did not trust some of them as far as I could lift them.

Now, for those of you who didn't understand that, here is what I just said simply. The fragments mixed in with his skin to a good degree, hiding the armor shrapnel, wood, and missile in one giant mess. He was out like a light, so I couldn't ask him what hurt, but I could tell immediately that his ribcage was probably busted, which meant possibly the heart and lungs where probably in bad shape. The legs were also in bad shape, but fortunately the armor in the genitals area had not been penetrated. My assistant and I quickly slid him on to the stretcher and began hotfooting it to the apc where my supplies were.

Now, by this time the commander had sent out guards on the ridge. He was also in the process of setting up a larger area for us to work in and so we had six apc's turned into armored operating rooms so that we could get our work done and be safe. Also at that point in time one bright soldier had decided to take the initiate and began running to doctors asking for what supplies we needed while every one else was trying to figure out what way was up. He caught me just as I was getting my patient into the makeshift operating room.

"I need some stitching material, blood for transplants, tranquilizer, and some antibiotics. But listen! We don't have enough supplies for all of these. See if you can contact home base and get us more."

"I am sorry sir, but the radiation area above us wrecks havoc on the radio...."

"Then get a transmitter, drive outside the zone, and broadcast the signal for more medical supplies, namely blood and plasma for transfusions and tranquilizers. And you two marines! Come here, I need your help."

With that I dragged them into the side room and began ordering them to find important medical equipment while I got started on the basics. Fortunately what gear we had was top of the line, so we even had the latest in x-ray: The handheld X-ray machine. I was able to check the heart and lungs. The heart checked clean, but shrapnel had pierced the right lung. The ribs were busted, but hadn't broken, so there were two worries out of the way right off. The legs, while in bad shape, were not as immediate a threat after an x-ray showed that the legs were not bleeding internally. The left leg however, was broken, not that it really mattered. The head also came up with a light concussion. By this point, my assistant had hooked up the guy to the blood bank and also had put the man under with a fast acting tranquilizer. While he was going into a deep sleep, we suited up for surgery, even the two soldiers who, after preparing to battle raiders, were more than a might squeamish on helping me open up their friend to save his life.

First I opened up the chest area to gain access to the lungs. I was now able to see clearly that the blood draining into the lungs also possibly could be getting high into the bronchial tree by now, so I told the men to get a bronchoscope so that after I patched it up, I could get the blood out of there so it didn't Start running into the other lung. I quickly worked on patching up the breaches in the lung and after about ten minutes I was through there. Then I got the bronchoscope and began to drain the blood out of the lung. After a quick check, I began to pick out the shrapnel, piece by piece from the inside. More than once, a small piece of skin had appeared to be a piece of shrapnel. But after about half an hour I got a significant amount out and stitched up the chest.

The broken leg was next. We quickly opened it up and quickly fixed the bone. But I realized at this point that there was another problem. The leg had had all the blood vessels crushed shut by the shrapnel or by debris at the ankle, thus making it impossible to save the foot with my current equipment. Now, at this point, I had to make a choice. I could either hope for the need supplies on the next trip, which would be a long shot at best for the foot was already dying fairly fast, or I could cut it off and seal it up. I choose to take the foot off. At this point, one man had to drag the other out because he fainted. I then went ahead and removed the shrapnel from the leg. After that, he was in good condition so I let him into the care of my fellow medical professionals.

I went on to care for a total of about thirty-five injured people that day. The only reason I really remember him was the fact he played an important role later in life. His name is Leon Travis, and currently serves as senator for the state of Texas. I met him afterwards and he praised me for my medical ability, and for saving his life. He and I have become friends over the years and of course we see each other every so often. He thus obviously wanted to be his 'eyes' in some situations where people of medical people are required. And most don't know the fact that he has no left foot. I saved enough of the leg that the artificial foot is almost as good as the real one.

Hanns

This story really began when I was talking to a friend of mine, Jake Stead. He is a nice guy. Not quite all there, but nice. He is officially 'Director of Austin Demolition and Recycling'. That is just a fancy way of saying junkman. He collects old parts from wreaks and ruins, rebuilding them, and fixing stuff. Also there is a little store out front of his junkyard that sells scavenged parts, fixed cars, and even rare books.

Anyway, at the time he was talking me into a deal on some 'rebuilt' monitoring equipment when I brought up how pretty soon I was going to have to hire a assistant.

"You need a assistant? le' me tell you 'bout dis guy I know. He one o' de' best doctors dere is. He like a artist wit' de needle. Und he real bright, too. Used ta live in Germany 'fore da war. Den he got out fast. Now he sorta freelancing. ya' know, traveling?"

Of course I took this as one of his frequent rantings. To say he's dumb would be just plain wrong. The man rebuilds computers and programs them. It's just since the war his mind has been like a constant cloud. Sometimes he tries to visit people he knows are dead. Other times he has long conversations with no one. And on rare occasions he just sings along to old tunes that aren't playing. Everyone feels sorry for him, but there is not much we can do.

So I told him he could send him over if he came and I would think about it. Much to my surprise he arrived a week later at my door step. Actually, he didn't find me there. He had to search all over town to find me, but he eventually did.

At the time, I had been called over by the bartender to help him out. Seems a local pair were about to get married, and the soon to be in-laws decided to drink the night away. So much in fact, that all of them had ether a passed out or were having trouble finding the door. He came in when I was picking up one who had walked headfirst into the wall and was complaining about how the door had moved.

"Iiiisss wwaass rigght tthere...." the man complained.

"Hallo, are you Dr. Harrison?"

"Yeah, and if you were sent to find out what the emergency was, it's this." I said pointing to the drunkards around the room.

"Ja. I'm Hanns, I believe you vere told about my coming"

"Hanns? You must excuse me, but when I was told it was... er..." I said thinking of a nice way to put it.

"By a man vith mental problems?" He spoke very good English, aside from mispronouncing W.

"Yes. So you understand when I say I really wasn't expecting you."

"Ja. Should I ask vhat happened here?"

"ttthhheee ddoooorr ssuusstt mmoovveedd...."

"It's okay fella, you just gonna follow your old pal Mitch to the door. Something about a marriage is all I know. Can you get those two over there?"

"Sure, is it always like this here?"

"Naa, just occasionally."

After getting them into a car and checking there blood alcohol levels, we gave them a ride home and put them to bed. While I will admit it was funny as hell when I look back, at the time getting them out was a royal pain in the butt. I told Hanns to go to a local inn and that I would think about his application. At this point in time I thought about it and after I did I called him and asked for a list of previous references. After calling THEM and getting dozens of good reports, I had to admit, I was boggled. I knew there had to be some catch, but I had no Idea what it was.

So I went down Jake's shop and quite bluntly asked him.

"Jake, how did you convince him to help me out?"

"How did you get him out of Berlin?"

"Had a bad feeling. I feel like de reason is just beyond my reach...." He then looked at me with a quizzical look...

"Did we have a war?"

--------------------------------------------

After I stopped laughing, I went and finally talked to Hanns, who was outside talking to Jake's younger brother, Jason, who occasionally helped out.

"... So the car should be ready by Thursday?"

"Uh huh. Big bro said dat you were de first ta see it, and git first dibs.

"Um, excuse me, Can I talk to you for a second?"

"Huh? Oh, Ja!"

"Uhh... Mr. Harrison cou' you wait til' I done talking?"

"Sure."

I did as he explained the ins and outs of the firebird, from the CD player (which is pretty much a sign of luxury.), to the Cruse control. I admit, by the time he was through I was about ready to write the check. But I didn't get the offer. After about a hour I got a chance to talk to him.

"So, you thinking about staying here in Austin?"

He looked at me in deep thought for a while. "Ja, I guess I am."

I took no time in asking my burning question: "Why are you so thankful toward Jake?"

"Oh, that. His brother has Long QT. It was rare at the time, so he wanted the best expert to come look at his brother. I was it. The war started a week later. That is the only reason I am alive." He said the last line in near whisper, with a distant look in his eyes.

Seeing where this was going, I said "If you need a job, I could always use a assistant."

"Ja, maybe I should look into that."

About a week later he signed on. Best doctor that I know of other than me.

Mutant Crisis:

It was about a year after that I had my most memorable experience. It was during the mutant crisis of December 2001. Anyway I received the letter from Leon on the 10th. But I had spent most of the day caring for a kid who had played, against all surgeon generals warnings, in the middle of a north shower. He had been doused in rads to the point blood and plasma were being replaced, as well as him being pumped full of medicine. It is always stressful, but that day it had been unbearable.

So I had decided to go to the local club. It was pretty fancy, with guys reading poetry to old pre-war music. Even had a TV playing Home Improvement in the corner. That is a real sign of high class down here.

Now that I think about it, since the war, TV's and computers and such are rare. I mean, sure, they can be found in clubs and Government offices and such, but that's about all. No more couch potatoes. Now, you wanna watch TV, you gotta go to theater. And most weekly TV dramas and comedies and such are gone. Only a select few survived, such as Home Improvement and Days of our lives.

But anyway I can readily call to line one think of poetry.

After watching Tim blow up the raiders camp, eating a sub or two, and basically having a good time, I went home. After I woke up the following day, I opened the letter.

It said that a mutant dog had finally been found by a group of mercenaries in California. Also doctors and veterinarians from all over were being sent to look and dissect it. And he had chosen me to look. I was authorized $5000 government creds to buy materials and weaponry for the trip. (Unfortunately, I had to give most of it back.)

To say I got a jolt is a understatement. I leaped from my breakfast table were I was reading it, and flew upstairs. From there I called Hanns, who was more than a little annoyed, it being 4 in the morning. Then I packed my bags and ran on over to Jake's Shoppe. I came in dripping sweat.

"Le' me guess.... Somethi' important happening doc?"

"Yeah. I'm here for a some equipment I'll need."

At this he looked at me uneasily for a long period of time....

"Dey found som'tin', huh doc?"

"Yeah, but I can't tell you. I'll need a shotgun, some ammo, a handsaw, a chisel, a screwdriver, a....."

"You gonna build a boat, doc?"

"No...."

"Dey found da mutant, huh doc?" At this point I practically had to run backwards as he was gazing at me with swords in his eyes. "Eve'one know you friends wit' dat big shot senator. Now, you gonna need help. I figure I can help you out da most."

I had no point in trying to stop him. He had won, but I tried anyway.

"But I can use carpenter supplies! I am fairly good if you must know..."

"Uh-huh. And I be de next President."

"You don't understand...."

"Wanna' bet on dat? You gonna need help getting dere in private. Now, ya'see, I got dis train I been workin' on. Now, nobody gonna be snooping around if I say dat I gonna take it for a test run 'fore I sell it. But dey see a doc getting on a train wit' dis junk? Dey gonna figure it out."

So anyway after talking me into it, half a hour later we were on the track to California. While it was a uneventful trip, I did think hope he would forget what he was coming to look at. But, unfortunately, he didn't and I was forced to listen to "Christmas at Ground Zero" performed by him.

I will not lie. I wanted to throw him off the train.

When we arrived toward midnight, I called up a taxi to take me to the lab while Jake took care of a room for him. (I knew I was gonna spend most of my time in the building, so I didn't need to.) But I arrived much to my surprise to find a demonstration in front of the building.

Men and women were waving signs with the phrases like 'Let the children rest in peace!' or 'All are children no matter how imperfect they seem'. They held the signs and held candles as others watched on. Men in white garments meanwhile were leading prayer. Reports occasional asked one or two a few questions. All in all it was calm, but a heavy air about it.

As I tried to get through, still wondering what it was about, I got stopped by one of the men with white on.

"Sir, do you realize exactly what you do? Dissecting dead children just because they are slightly different..... Haven't there parents suffered enough."

"Sir, I have no idea what you are talking about. I am a representative doctor from Texas here to hear about a medical breakthrough."

"Oh, I am sorry." He said, bowing his head "I thought you were one of those so called doctors who came here to dissect children who died due to their gifts."

At this point I realized what was happening. Someone had been doing autopsies of mutated babies. A practice condoned by the Church of the Apocalypse.

"Think nothing of it."

As I enter I was meet by a security officer who after checking my fingerprints, led me through the large building to the high security area. After this a general showed me to the room.

When I arrived in the room, It was full of excitement. Men rushed about with scalpels and one with some heavy duty saw working away at a bone, trying to get to the marrow at the center. I did not bother to introduce myself and jumped right in.

"..... Take a look at this! Watch it though. The stomach acid could eat through a car!..." "Wow! The nails are sharp! What type of material are they made from?...." "Is it just me, or does this thing have two heart?..." "Whoa! These eyes are almost cat-like...." "Excuse me, what have ya found on this thing?"

"Take your pick. It's real alright, but real weird is better at describing it."

"Yah, I can tell. Listen, is there anything that really stands out?"

"Depends on what you mean. If you mean unusual for a animal? Lots. If you mean quirks they just plain unnatural? nothing really."

"OK. Give me a basic rundown of what you know about it."

"Well, ya see, the beasty has two hearts, a brain built for a chimpanzee, thick leather hide....."

"JESUS there are THREE hearts in here!"

"I'm sorry. Make that three hearts. ....hard enamel claws, EXTREMELY strong stomach acid, and razor sharp eyes. And that's just the surface observations of the first one. We have two more. OH, and there was one other thing. There is an adrenaline gland right here, but no real connection to any stimuli that would activate it."

By this time, they were putting the first one into the freezer, and now was opening up a seemingly older, much larger one.

"This one was with them, and looks to be ABOUT five years old....."

"Five years? That would mean....."

"Fraid so. It's been on everyone's lips. In fact, that's why the big man is sending one of the high raised, boot kissing scientists here. That is almost as bad as the mercenaries which brought these in. THEY are still in the hall."

"What a LOVELY thought," I said with all the sarcasm I had.

"Yeah, just peachy," he dryly added.

We then separated into teams to tackle the beast. I was teamed with three others on the head. We cut into the head carefully, (even thou we broke three scalpels in the process) and we began to catalog any anomalies.

But at this range, I realized the layout of the brain WAS that resembling a primate. It was also close to that of a human, of course, but the problem with this is, theoretically, it is impossible for this creature to survive. And it went against the anger that was common amongst these creatures. At this point, the scientist came in, with none other than Jake at her side.

".....And denn he ask me, 'Why is dis so much,' and denn I hav'ta explain dat dis be a rare thing in de world, und..... Hey Mitch. Dis is Doc V.V. Bloom." He said, pointing to the lovely young lady who followed him in.

"Hello Dr. Mitch."

"Hello. If you would help me out, I would be grateful."

"Sure, what do you need?"

"See the back portion of the brain right here?" I said pointing to the medusa region of the brain, "After I cut it off from the main section, lift it out and put it in a containment jar."

"Not to difficult," she said with a smile.

I cut along the edges of its brain matter, and much to my surprise, about halfway through there was a problem. My scalpel go stuck. I used another scalpel to get it loose, and then went around the problem area. I finally got through cutting. She pulled it up and then stopped, with it hanging in mid-air. Everyone looked at it, mouth on the floor, big eyes staring at it like it was a nuke. I looked around, unable to see what the fuss was about. The I heard V.V. Bloom say "You looking at it from too high a point of view, doc."

So I ducked down.... and my jaw hit the floor. If these weren't man-made creatures, then I would be the next president. I was in shock. I saw now what the problem my scalpel encountered.

There was a mini-computer connected to the brain.

**********************

A general was in the room in mere minutes after the discovery. Meanwhile, we traced the wiring in it. It led to the spare adrenaline sack, a miniature bomb, a artificial venom sac in his teeth, which could only be opened by radio signal, and a micro radio transmitter and receiver. Plus, a sack of some sort of tranquilizer, emptied some years ago with barely enough to get a trace.

The general came in and, after having us all take a oath of silence, went into much detail on what we had found. Oddly, Jake didn't have to take the oath.

"OK, I suppose all of you are wondering just what this is all about. I will tell you, but it must stay in this room till you are told otherwise. (I got permission right before righting this to put it in.) As you can obviously see, these are man-made creatures. I believe most of you know about the incident at L.A. gene works, about a month before the war," all our heads nodded," well, that is closely related to this. That was where the original..... Prototypes were made." This got a few looks of disgust. "I wasn't on the project, so don't kill the messenger. The deaths were from ONE escaped prototype, so at the sight of this, the project was supposedly shutdown with all evidence destroyed. However, we have reason to believe a certain high ranking general disobeyed a direct order from the president. He secretly funded the project, and kept several top scientist thinking that the cancellation order was a fake to keep them on. The bad news is the general, and all but one of the scientists is dead. The only scientist alive, however, never saw the actual base where the creatures were made. Now, since we know now that these DID survive the war, we would like to know one thing. Where are they. So gentlemen, now to question time. Any clues as to where they are?"

A man in the back of the group stood up. "Well, I did notice a lot of sand under the nails. Perhaps near or in the desert?"

The general looked like he wanted to slap the man for this. "Son," he said in a pained tone,"when has the government put a secret laboratory in the middle of a city?"

I had to put in a sarcastic remark right here. I shouldn't have, but I did. "Since gene works in L.A."

He turned and glared at me hard, but from my stint in the military I had seen it before, so I didn't cower. "What is your name, Mr. wise ass?"

"Dr. Mitch Harrison."

He then looked as if trying to think of something then looked at me in confusion. "Weren't you at that attack at ... what was that place called?"

"Death pass? Yes. Even got a award."

He then smirked at me. "So you were under 'Deadly Davis'? My god, you musta had a hella stint in the army. But anyway, back to any ideas on where these thinks came from."

A different man stood up. "While this is slightly off subject, I have found that due to cross reference with bite size, that it seems only the older ones are responsible for attacks on humans....but ..that.. all. of ..them ..are responsible.. for ..the ..cattle...."

The man's voice broke up due to the general looking him in the eye. The general looked at him, thought about it a bit, and finally said "Yes, that makes sense. Thank you for that input. I actually do like that piece of information. But that is besides the point right now. Now, my dear doctors, if you have no other clues, I suggest we should do some investigation into that sand."

We did, and the sand yielded very few clues. Instead, we found something else IN the sand that gave us a clue. Black gravel, like the type used in roads. With this, the general , Dr. V.V. Bloom, (Who to this day, I think was in on the whole thing.), and Jake went in back. They came back in a hour latter and excused the doctors. All except me.

"We greatly appreciate your help, and you will receive compensation for your trip here." they gathered there things and left. Then the mercs came in.

They were a odd bunch, all five of them. The leader was about Five foot six. Built like the classic line backer, he wore a pair of goggles and a leather helmet over his head of white hair, giving him the look of a fighter pilot in the first world war. To complete his look, he wore a all leather jacket, leather pants, a scarf, and a red shirt under the jacket, which in turn I could see a bullet proof vest under that.

The second in the group was a lady, and while that wasn't so remarkable, she was about six foot eight. She wore her blonde hair braided back, and wore blue jeans and a green tank top with U.S.M.C. printed on it, and had a facile expression somewhere between 'Don't give me no bullshit', and 'I'm watching you punk'.

The next I consider weirdest of the bunch. At about six foot, he was dressed like a preacher, and talked like one, and even had a bible. His black preachers jacket matched his skin, except where a long, jagged scar ran down the length of his face. The main thing I found weird about him of course was that he was a mercenary.

There were eight more, a mixed variety of people, but no one else really stood out. Wait, I take that back, there was one other. There mechanic, a lady by the name of Janet. She was Chinese by the accent and look, and wore the classic mechanics garb drenched in oil. Her hair was short and black, I think, I couldn't really tell due to the oil.

Up to date they weren't.  Looked like something out of 1970's.  There were Jeeps, a Lincoln Continental, a Manta, and a Barracuda.  Thrown into the mix were a Mack truck and a Manta and finishedoff with a old Fuzz Caprice, which to the people who don't know, that is a cop car, thus the old nick for police "fuzz".  They all were polished off with various weapons.  Machine guns and rocket launchers, 30mm cannons and turreted sniper rifles.  On the inside they were much different, all tatest computer equipment money could buy.  Tracking computers, GPS systems, and radar jammers.  But with all this, they still had very crappy air conditioners.   And the ride there wasn’t much better.

I rode with the idiot in the pilots cap in the Manta, armed with a 7 barreled 30mm cannon probably meant for a A-10 and a missile launcher on the side.  We stuck to the main road, where the only sight other than the endless desert were the bodies of marauders who had been hung, which were deteriorating or just bones. It doesn’t make for a very scenic trip. At least not scenes you want to see.

As we approached the trailer city however things got much more interesting in a hurry. A group of raiders attacked us. Only three, but armed to the teeth. We took on a old Javelin.  I never got a good look at the others, but my driver was good I’ll give him that.  The Javelin came ramming at us from the side to avoid the 30mm cannon and rammed us right in the missile launcher. We swerved into a spin, but came out of it facing him.  He took off and we tried to follow. When we dodged left, he would dodge right. When we dodged right he would dodge left, taking rounds in his well armored ass. Then finally Greg got fed up and rammed him into a spin. The guy was forced off road and the terrain forced him to fight.  He began the attack by trying to run at us with two Machine guns blazing.
We swerved behind a rock and waited for him to pass. Then we came out and opened fire.   Now, to anyone who has even seen a 30mm 7 barrel gattling gun in action can tell you, while no matter if you hit someone or not, the recoil slows you down.  The other guy knew this and tried to use the opportunity to get away, but he didn’t. Because he got ripped up by a few hundred 30mm slugs.  Not from us, but from a old A-10 warthog. And it was just scrap after that.  The A-10 took care of the remaining marauder and we drove into the trailer town.

It was built around the remains of a old airbase still in use.  We drove to the center of the base and entered. The lobby was used as a teen rec room, complete with TV and even with a few working arcade games.  I even recognized one.  X-MEN, Children of the atom, with a comic stand selling the comic right next to it.  The machines were altered of course to play the games for free.  We were greeted by the towns mayor in there.  I’ll admit I played a game or three while we waited, much to the dismay of the teens.

The mayor was tall, and in good shape, but had to be in his sixties.  He suffered from hair loss as his hair was receded to near baldness.  “Please, come into my office. See ya noticed our Recreation hall. Amazing what a few scavengers can buy with money made from selling water ay?  The water even provides free electricity to run it!  What a deal ay?  Oh, I’m sorry. Names Bob Murtha.  And I’m doing all the talking.  Now, would you tell me what brings you hotshots to our small town?.”
*************

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