Despite the scorching heat of the daytime and Thenasias grim moniker, nighttime in the Scorch was freezing. Jack shivered, wishing his clothes were warmer for the sixth time in thirty minutes. The lizard who’d imprinted on him, being cold-blooded, was hiding in his backpack, Jack desperately hoping it wouldn’t eat all his rations. According to Hex, Salt Flats was over eighty miles away, and between it was eighty miles of desert. There were roads thankfully – Jack had managed to find and follow one – but they looped and twisted, meaning while it’d be harder to get lost, it would also take more time to get there.

  The only other option Jack had was to find a vehicle of some sort, which was unlikely to happen. His only hope was to hitch a ride on a settlement convoy or Scavenger vehicle. Hex wasn’t sure if the routes on its database were still used currently, but one major route was two miles off and ran multiple convoys daily. These convoys were supply routes between farms, mines, oil pumps, and crude factories. These were all controlled by different factions, though they had agreements to trade with each other and patrol the Roads for ‘Scavs’ and ‘Fanatics.’ Jack assumed that Scavs were bandits of some sort, and when asking Hex about the Fanatics, Hex simply replied that they were ‘aggressive worshippers of strange Gods,’ and left it at that.

  Hearing the AI’s nervous tone, Jack decided to not press further and left it at that.

  Continuing to walk, Jack pulled his jacket tighter around himself and followed the road. It wasn’t made of concrete, asphalt, or even gravel but instead consisted of hard-packed sand marred by tire tracks and strewn with garbage from empty cans to the occasional hubcap or piece of pipe. It was depressing to see such damage to the natural world so casually, but Jack guessed that considering everything was a barren desert, it didn’t add much to the damage already done.

  That was also depressing itself.

  Trying to put those thoughts out of his mind, Jack reached towards his chest and flicked on the flashlight strapped to his chest. Its weak beam illuminated the following twenty feet in front of him dimly. It was poor but better than nothing.

  Hex, how much longer to Salt Flats?” Jack asked.

  “My GPS is spotty at best, but I’ve got an estimate of roughly seventy-two miles until our destination.”

  Jack groaned, pressing onwards. His legs and feet hurt like hell, and the backpack weighed heavily on his shoulders. The Shunted knew there was almost no chance of him making it to Salt Flats on foot. He was going to try anyway. As he turned around a curve blocked by a sand dune, almost stumbling, a familiar blue notification appeared in front of his face.

  The pulse of the circuit-veins coursed across Jack’s body, and after a few seconds, he felt… different. Stronger. More determined. It wasn’t significant, but it was enough to be noticeable.

  “Uh, Hex? What was that?” Jack asked.

  “That would be the result of your Training. Exerting yourself in various tasks makes you stronger in different ways. The Director must have registered your hike as training and increased your Vitality for exertion and Willpower for your determination to get to Salt Flats. Generally, the harder and longer you Train, the more results you’ll get at the expense of time and effort. More gains but also more pain, I suppose you could say.”

  That was good to know, but that still didn’t help Jack cross the seventy-two miles to Salt Flats. I’m gonna die before I get to Slat Flats if I don’t find a vehicle… Jack thought. He knew how to drive, but he didn’t know if cars worked the same here as… wherever the Shunted had originally come from. For all I know, cars here fly and steer using your brain.

  “While there were some contragravity vehicles and automated transports, most cars in the present day run on gasoline and diesel with some electrical or electronic components,” Hex piped up. “They’re also typically salvaged or cottage-built. Some of the larger and better-off neo-cities do produce assembly line cars, or even military-style vehicles, but typically in small batches and, while better than the everyday Wasteland vehicle, are nowhere near the quality of Ancient models.”

  “Do you think there’s a working vehicle nearby?” Jack asked.

  “I’d doubt it, but there’s likely a convoy coming along soon. Just keep your flashlight on and they should see you.”

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  “However, exactly when is the million dollar question…” Jack muttered, continuing to walk down the side of the road, backpack still feeling heavy, but now slightly less so, no help to the lizard sleeping inside. I’ve got to figure out a name for it… the Shunted pondered as he heard the sound of an explosion in the distance. “What’s that?” Jack muttered, looking in the direction as the growl of engines and gunfire echoed in the distance.

  “Sounds like an Autoduel,” Hex stated. Before Jack could open his mouth, the AI continued. “It’s essentially a brawl or gunfight but with vehicles. The computer sounded excited, and Jack gulped as the noises came closer. Flicking off his flashlight, Jack crept behind a dune just as three cars and a small semi-truck pulled around the bend. All were battered-looking and had patchwork exteriors, with extra headlamps, souped-up engines, and welded-on armor. The truck was pulling what looked like 50-gallon drums, each marked with a blue teardrop on them.

  “Water convoy,” Hex muttered. “I’m betting some Scavs are the ones who started the duel.”

  As if to illustrate the AI’s theory, a pair of motorcycles and a pickup truck loaded with figures appeared in hot pursuit of the convoy. As Jack watched, a ballista on the back of the semi-truck fired, spearing the engine of one of the motorcycles before proceeding to detonate, blowing the motorcycle and rider to pieces. Jack gulped as the pickup truck pulled up to one of the convoy escorts, two figures jumping off and clambering aboard the vehicle. The sedan swerved, trying to swing the boarders off, but only succeeded in going off-road and slowing to a stop as the ‘Scavs’ pulled the limp crew out and then drove off. Jack watched them race into the distance.

  After the ‘Autoduel’ was long gone, Jack crept out from behind the dunes and crept towards the bodies, desperately hoping at least one of the trio was still alive. However, as he got close to the athletic convoy guards, his heart sank. One’s head had a bloody dent in it, while another’s eyes had been stabbed out. The third had a slit-open throat, blood still pooling around the grisly wound. Jack paused for a moment, taking it in, before falling to his knees and puking out the small amount of food he’d eaten on the trip. Gagging, the Shunted staggered away as Hex’s concerned voice spoke in his ear.

  “Jack, are you well? Your vitals are spiking.”

  “…They’re dead…” Jack wheezed. “They fucking murdered them over water and a car…”

  “Those very things can make or break a person in this world Jack,” Hex stated. “Harsh living conditions and lack of resources typically bring out the worst in people. Even the more civilized areas of Thenasia are typically wary of outsiders, and well… life is a struggle for most. You’re not really as bad off as you think, Jack. Some people don’t have an AI ally, a gun, or even ammunition. I wouldn’t say you’re prosperous, but you’re at least competent.

  “I’m also Rank Zero,” Jack said. “The first enemy I came across was a lizard not even half my size and I barely killed it. I’m weak and I’d probably have died if I had to fight one of these guys.”

  “Then you need to start training harder,” Hex stated. “Learn about your Skills and use your brain to defeat enemies, not just your fists. You’ve got some useful melee Skills, and you’re Danger Sense will be useful against betrayal. Take some time to read through your stats… after you loot these bodies, of course.”

  Jack felt ill. “You… you want me to take their stuff?” he asked, nervous and horrified.

  “They’re not using it anymore. Remember Jack, almost anything goes in the Scorch. That includes taking from the dead. Besides, that’s essentially how you got me after all.”

  “You were crying out for help,” Jack shot back.

  “It’s still stealing. Now I’d suggest you start looting.”

  The Shunted gulped, walking over to the convoy guard with the smashed-in face. Crouching down, Jack shined his flashlight on the body and started rummaging through the corpse’s numerous pouches. It wore a thick leather jacket with shoulder pads, plus knee guards and steel-toed boots. On the body, Jack found a flask of some kind of alcohol and a badge reading ENFORCERS. “Damn, they stripped them clean…” Jack muttered, moving on to the next body, barely restraining himself from throwing up. One enforcer carried a cardboard box of pistol rounds crudely stenciled “.38 FMJ Rounds, 24 Count.”

  Curious, Jack Identified it.

  I’ve got to find a gun that can chamber these, Jack thought, putting them inside his backpack, the lizard residing within squeaking slightly. Either that, or I can trade them. Turning his attention back to the final body, finding nothing.

  Well, this was a bit of a waste of time… Jack thought frustratedly. I still don’t have any feasible way of getting to Salt Flats, and I’m likely to die if I don’t get there. Then, a thought popped into Jack’s head. “Hex, are there any nearby homesteads or farms nearby?” he asked nervously.

  “There should be one eight miles north of here,” the AI responded. “I’m not sure it’s still standing, but you should be able to reach it within a day at most.”

  Jack breathed a sigh of relief but then realized something. “Why didn't you tell me that earlier?” he said, annoyed. “I could have died trying to make it to Salt Flats if I hadn’t asked you that.”

  “My apologies. I’m still booting up from access standby. It takes a quantum-based neural network a bit of time to get back up to full functionality, and some parts of me are still… getting the blood flowing I guess you could say.”

  Jack didn't know what a ‘quantum-based neural network’ was, but he decided to roll with it. ‘Well then, let’s get going…” he muttered. “Can you show me it on a map or something?” he asked. Immediately, the PCW on his wrist beeped, and the Shunted raised it to his eyes to see a simple cross between a road and a terrain map. It was simple and effective and showed the homestead’s location, east of where Salt Flats was supposed to be. Guess we’re taking the long way… Jack thought though the chance of getting extra supplies or even a ride to the settlement was better than nothing.

  Shouldering his backpack, Jack turned to his left again and started a detour that would hopefully save his life.