What Lies Beyond the Fence (WIP)
This is just a preview of whats to come. Figured I'd post it and see what kinda feedback I get! Not much detail at the moment. _________________________________________________________________________
No one knows how it started, or even who did it. Funny thing about word of mouth is that over time the information becomes distorted and you don't know what to believe. Some say it was terrorists. Some say God. Others they blame the government. But whatever the story is, the ending is always the same. The last superpower in the known world fell in a rain of hellfire and mushroom clouds. The once unified country split apart, with new governments sprouting up like weeds. Some lasted a week, others longer. Some have even become a staple in Post-American society. As it stands there are three large governments in the US, the Confederation of New England which is made up of the surviving states on the East coast. The Mid West is controlled by a collection of state governments called The Republic. Now the west coast, the west coast is where it all started. Nothing but ruins remains of the once prosperous cities. But recently, something has emerged from the collapsed tunnels. No one knows what it is exactly. Survivors or some kind of mutant, the reports couldn't tell us mostly because whoever was radioing it in never got past the first few sentences before they were abruptly cut off. What forces any government sends out never comes back. For now the West coast has been declared off limits to scavengers and The Republic has roving patrols to keep any inquisitive eyes from entering and discovering what exactly is happening there.
This is how I ended up in a Republic prison. I was caught by a Republic patrol while trying to cut through the wire fence that had been erected at the Californian/Republic border. Instead I got a lovely beating from a baton and a few thousand volts of electricity right into my neck. My name is Jason Anders and I'm currently awaiting extradition or execution. The former having me returned to New England to face trial while the other...well you can guess what that means. What these Republican fools don't know is that if I do get extradited there won't be a trial. I'll get a reprimand from the head of Special Developments and be given a new assignment. Assuming of course, the pay was good and I was compensated for my incarceration. But that was the possible future one that allowed for my continual existence the other cut it incredibly short. My thoughts were cut short by the cell door being opened, filling my once empty cell with light. Two guards and the warden filled the doorway.
"Mr. Anders, stand up and put your hands up please." I did as I was asked and found my arms pulled behind my back as cold steel linked them together. "You're a lucky man Mr. Anders; your country is having us turn you over to them. If you were a citizen of the Republic we'd have made you an example. Unlike those liberals who run your precious Confederation we are STRONG here in the Republic..." The warden continued to drone on and on about how feeble the Confederation was against the Republic and other topics, this went on during the entire walk up until the cuffs were released from my wrists and I was unceremoniously pushed out of the prison. Instead of a car or van idling in the road to transport me to the border I found nothing but the empty desert of the Badlands. Getting to my feet I whirled back towards the warden and his guards.
"What gives? How am I supposed to get back to the Confederation?" The threesome laughed at my question, turning back and disappearing into the prison. They had released me back to my country of origin but they weren't going to waste fuel to bring me to the border. I was to make my own way home and something told me I'd find myself here again before long. I wasn't particularly angry but being sent out here without my belongings was an inconvenience and that meant I had no weapons, water packs or money. In the end I may find a charitable citizen who was willing to drive me to the border or I would be forced to mug some poor unsuspecting citizen and then car jack another so I could reach the border. That was most likely the warden's plan, for me to commit a more punishable crime, where the Confederation couldn't protect me and have me executed for the good of the 'Republic'.
Regardless of my fate I decided to take advantage of my new found freedom and started walking north down the road. A few hours later the prison disappeared behind the mountains and I found myself staring at a stretch of...nothing. Desert to the left, desert to right, desert behind me and in front of me all in all a picture any artist would have died for. But I'm not an artist, a singer maybe but drawing wasn't exactly up my alley. I contemplated singing to myself as I walked down the road but decided against it. Lord knows what kind of wildlife had moved into the desert after the bombs went off.