Project HAVOC

Chapter I

Barren wasteland was all Chance could see. The sandstone ground cracked under the blazing heat as small lizards took refuge in prickly bushes. Crows and vultures cawed overhead, eagerly waiting for the moment Chance let exhaustion overwhelm him.

The dark-haired man pushed on, nonetheless. He lowered the brim of his hat, shielding his eyes from the unforgiving wind. It also carried the welcoming smell of smoked meats, so he knew it won't be long before he reached town. Chance could replenish his supplies, have a hot meal, and secure a safe place to sleep for the night. The thought of food would had made his mouth water, but that would be a waste of precious fluids. He emptied his last jug of water two days ago, giving it to Julia.

Julia seemed to have caught the smell of food as well, pulling the wagon with little urging from her owner. The wheels groaned under its load, protesting its harsh treatment. It had been over four months since Chance visited Poynt Town, much longer than he would had liked. The ice caps were slow to recede this year, delaying his trek from the north.

Finally, the town grew into view. A smile crept beneath Chance's bearded face, and he gently cracked the reins. "Let's go, Julia."

Julia retaliated with a snarl but understood, picking up the pace with a small gallop. Chance steered the wagon to a pair of huge, stone pillars. Erecting five stories into the sky, it was the tallest man-made structure Chance had seen since the Cataclysm. It was also where visitors come to check-in. Anyone attempting to enter Poynt Town from anywhere else was shot on sight.

It was a harsh but necessary rule. Those who were here to make honest business deals shouldn't need to hide anything. If for any reason people felt that the town was unsafe, they would never bring their hard-earned valuables, trade won't happen, and the little economy humanity had left would collapse.

At the pillars, two large men greeted him with a nod. One immediately rounded his wagon while the second stood in front of him. The latter was much larger, his body hidden beneath a huge poncho and wide-brimmed hat. An AK-47 hung off his broad shoulders, a deadly relic from the past. Before the Cataclysm, guns were plentiful, prompting controversial laws limiting its distribution. Now however, this was the only place Chance had could see one. His body shook as a chill ran up his spine.

The first man returned from the rear, letting out an impressed whistle. He lifted his hat and smiled at Chance, his bright-blue eyes the friendliest face he had seen in months. "Hey, what ya want for that white wolf pelt?"

Chance returned the smile. Animal pelt was his specialty. The thick fur from the northern beasts were surprisingly welcoming for the desert dwellers. It protected the skin from the blistering sun and offered warmth for the cold nights. "I'm keeping the white one. That fucker kept raiding my snares. Took me a month to get him. I almost starved."

The man with the gun nodded his head, rubbing his chin with admiration. "I could never go to the north. It's cold as fuck."

"Someone has to. That's where all the big game are." Chance brought his gaze back to the second man, silently requesting a pass.

The man nodded, his eyes longingly gazing his wagon. "My girl would have loved that pelt, but I understand. Don't mean to delay ya. Go ahead."

As the sun descended, the smoldering heat dissipated into the rocky, desert landscape. The town became more lively almost instantly, with crowds of traders, merchants, and the like vying for space to display their merchandise. Hagglers screamed over each other's voices, and children whined for toys and sweets. The aroma of cured meats and freshly baked breads blanketed the air. It made Chance's empty stomach tie into a painful knot.