The deserts of New Mexico were fairly manueverable provided they weren't trapped with mines, loaded with giant ants or deranged tribals. It was the same route Skirath took when heading to Farmington. A decent sized commune that was lacks on rules and regulations despite being Systemist controlled.

There was a lack of wind and humidity that made the heat dry and uncomfortable especially since She was a ghoul. She wanted to take the jacket off but the sunlight beaming down on her dissuaded her from taking her jacket off just yet. She cursed to herself silently and noticed that Farmington was near. And so was sleep under a roof for the first time in two weeks. 

She saw something in the distance shining brightly although she couldn't make it out in detail. It was moving towards her. Instantly hope hit her heart that the shining person moving towards her could possibly be Vadbol.

The thought passed through Skirath's mind for a moment that whoever it was may not be Vadbol, and could, in fact, be dangerous. But Skirath hadn't seen another person in shiny armour like Vadbol's before, and the hope was overwhelming. She started walking quicker, but after a few steps began running. The thought of seeing Vadbol after so long gave her extra energy, as Skirath remembered how he had taught her almost everything she knew about survival.

She cleared the gap in moments managing to ignore every rule for engagement that Vadbol had taught her. Skirath had completely disregard all safety just for a glimpse of him. She was blinded, everything that she saw Vadbol and her heart was overjoyed. So much so that she slammed into it at full speed and was knocked down.

Stunned and dazed Skirath attempted to make heads or tails of it. It was about the size of a normal man but it was entirely metal. His arms, legs, chest and head were a dulling silver that had a sheen still in the sun. His face was painted with grey and black triangle that seemed to accentuate his thin skeletal head. Two small mechanical, circular beady eyes that seemed to dilate like a persons focused on her. The Metal Man intimidated Skirath. His mouth had three bigger metal teeth that opened and a sound of mechanical whirring came out of the black void of wires and dirty metal that was it's mouth. On the man's chest was written in ink Wares Inc. underneath it was the word Bartlbe. It spoke in a very dignified respectable tone, "Hello Miss. I am Bartlebe. A salesman robot for Wares Incorporated. How may I be of assistance today?" The whole situation was surreal.

Bartlbe reached his hand out to help Skirath stand up. Each finger was pointed, spider-like and looked to be as sharp as a knife. "My apologies Miss. I didn't mean to knock you down." said Bartlebe graciously apologetic.

Skirath stood up and brushed herself off. She was too disappointed to even pretend to be interested in anything the robot was saying, despite his politeness. "Yeah, sorry, I thought you were someone else," she said quietly, "I don't think you can help. I'm going to Farmington." Skirath started walking again, trying to push the thoughts of Vadbol out of her mind.

"Pardon me, Miss. Did you say Farmington? Possibly a place with which I can do commerce with other individuals looking to obtain unique and heavily manafactured goods. Such as Rad be Gone, Sally's Cosmetic Heal Skin and a favorite amongst the gunners on the run, Bag-O-Bullets!" Said Bartlebe excitedly. It seemed everything he was saying was some sort of advertisement to a society that was long since dead. Bartlebe followed Skirath with a weaving stride that was erratic.

"Umm... yes, I'm sure you'd have a better chance of getting customers in Farmington than out here," Skirath agreed, looking at Bartlebe as she walked along. "How long have you been selling this stuff for?" she asked.

Bartlebe's voice shifted going through high and lo pitched modulations before evening out in the voice of a salesman, "Twwwenty-two years, f-four months, three days, thirteen hours, Ff-ff-fifty-nine minut-ttes and Ttttthirtty-two seconds. The last Bartlebe was destroyed by firing squard. I am the newest one activated by Dan who has since passed on after inflicting fatal trauma to the head with a firearm." 

His movements were still erratic as it appeared Bartlebe was damaged and illmaintained. They were within eyesight of Farmington and it dawned on Skirath that it'd be wise to keep the robot covered if he were to survive any sort of trade with the people's of that New Mexico town.

Skirath paused as she realised that perhaps it would be best for her to see what she could get from Bartlebe before they reached the town, in case some harm came to him and his wares. "Wait," she called to him, "You do trade, right? I have some equipment I could trade with you." She rummaged through her pack and pulled out the two pieces of unidentifiable electronics equipment. "What can I get for these?" she asked, hoping the robot was honest.

"Yes indeed! I do barter." Said Bartlebe his two small camera lense eyes focusing on the pieces of tech. His 'eyes' widened, "Thats a phase II plasma emitter and a class 1 self repair unit. Let me get my wares." said Bartlebe. One moment his hand had nothing the next a metallic suitcase materialized from nothingness and a sheet of ice manifested itself around his hand and wrist. "My apologies Miss. I am a bit forgetful as my programming is lacking part of it's parameters. Here are my good." He said opening the case.

Inside the case was all sorts of prewar goods perfectly preserved. Bags-O-Bullets for 9mm and .45acp, Bill Popper's Pill Food: Roast beef course meal, Rad-Be-Gone, Sally's Cosmetic Heal Skin and two shirts that appeared to be made of paper. One was pink the other was blue. There was other stuff but none of it looked appealing or useful to Skirath.

Upon hearing that Bartlebe's programming was flawed, Skirath changed her mind about wanting to do business with him His analysis of the purpose of the pieces of tech could be completely erroneous, and for that matter, she didn't want to be swindled by a robot. "You know, maybe I'll wait until we get into town," she said, putting the equipment into her backpack, and continuing on towards Farmington.

Bartlebe closed his suitcase, "Understandable. Chances are there is money to be got in Farmington." He followed along the rest of the way to Farmington. It was a fairly silent walk despite the occassional squeak from Bartlebe's rusting joints.

After an hour and a half at a quickened pace trying to leave the robot behind Skirath had reached Farmington. It's adobe and brick houses weren't protected by a wall. There was roughly a thousand or so people and they were mostly trained to hunt and fight with bow and arrows. Most of the men were hunters and the women inside tending to the children. Any trade that happened at the farmers market where other small towns traded their crops for other goods such as meat, furs and alcohol. Skirath was only there for meat...fresh meat.

People seemed startled by the sight of Bartlebe and ran inside. Alot of the men around on guard duty backed away from Skirath. They knew she was a ghoul and were apprehensive but the sight of her companion terrified them for they had never seen something so different.

Upon reaching the market most of the traders and merchants fled taking their wares with them. A few remained as show that they weren't going to be intimidated. One of those traders was Krane Metzger, meat trader known to have finer delicacies of meat. Primarily that of the human persuasion although no one dared question him as he knew people who'd answer with violence.

"So Skirath. What have you brought Krane today?" Grinned Krane his teeth sharp, skin sun-burned, and his clothes smelling rank, like uncured leather. He looked over at Bartlebe at which case he was greeted by an almost cheesy salesman voice, "Hello Sir. I am Bartlebe. A Salesman Robot for wares incorporated. Would you be interested in barter or payment of my fine products?"

Skirath realised that Krane probably wouldn't accept the pieces of equipment as payment for meat, and searched through her backpack looking for anything else that she could possibly trade. Finding nothing, she turned to Bartlebe. "Okay, I'll take however many of the food pills and rad be gone I can get for these," she said quickly, handing Bartlebe the pieces of equipment. She didn't want to miss out on a chance to get some fresh meat, and hoped that Krane would accept the food pills and rad be gone in exchange for meat.

If Bartlebe could smile he would but he couldn't and graciously accepted the machine parts in exchange for the food pills and rad be gone. "Pleasure doing business with you Miss. You have $500 credit with wares incorporated!" said Bartlebe smuggly. The Robot had emotions albeit preprogrammed software emotions but emotions none the less.

Krane nodded and looked confused at the sight of the pills. "What the fuck are those?!" Asked Krane confused almost angerily. Before Skirath could explain Bartlebe jumped in with his most salesman like and calming voice, "Pardon me sir. But the pills on the left are Bill Popper's Pill Food! Terrific Roast Beef Which are quite delicious and nutritious for both children and adults alike! One Pill is serving for one meal. And it suggest by the surgeon general that you take one pill every five to six hours. The Pills on the right are Rad Be Gone! Radiation removal drugs that help to alleviate radiation poisoning and boost the immune system to heal from such affliction with the patented, secret Wares Inc. formula. Try it now! Suggested retail value for this trad would be six pounds beef, three pounds chicken and one pound pork." 

Krane looked terrified, confused and interested in what the robot was saying. The Robot had it's uses. It saved Skirath the trouble of having to explain.

"Please give the miss her trade and shake hands. All sales are final when dealing with perishable items such as meats. However the Wares Inc. goods have a 90 day waranty and if they fail to meet your satisfaction then, return them to your nearest salesman robot and your return will be refunded graciously." Said Bartlebe further explaining the terms and use to Krane who looked even dumber than his normal intimidating demeanor.

Skirath was pleasantly surprised at the value of the items she had traded with Bartlebe, and licked her lips, thinking of all the delicious meat she'd be able to buy. But then she realised she wouldn't be able to eat that much before it started rotting.
"I might just trade one bottle, so the meat doesn't go off," Skirath explained, putting the bottle of rad be gone pills into her backpack. "So how much meat can I get for this one?" she asked, looking from Bartlebe to Krane, and holding up the bottle of Bill Popper's Pill Food.

"Um-" said Krane as he was interrupted by Bartlebe, "Four pounds beef, three pounds pork." Krane narrowed his eyes bitterly and spoke, "Three pounds beef, three pounds pork." Bartlebe's lenses focused on Krane almost as if the robot was annoyed but he didn't press the matter further. The robot had some tact despite being blunt. 

Skirath smiled, pleased with her puchase, and picked up the package of meat. "Thanks Krane," she said, nodding in his direction. "Well, good luck with your business," she said to Bartlebe, as she started walking away, in the direction of the part of town known as the Dregs. She knew that there was often an empty house that she could stay in for a day or two around there. Skirath was very hungry, and was very much looking forward to eating some delicious fresh meat.

Bartlebe soon followed Skirath his case almost flailing wildly in his hand. She saw him and rolled her eyes annoyedly. "Miss. You still have Credit with me. And you were able to obtain upgrades for me. So I propose a deal. You get me upgrades, I handle trades for you most expediently for your benefit." Said Bartlebe as he caught up to Skirath.

Much as Skirath didn't particularly want a salesman robot following her around, she was appreciative of how much Bartlebe helped in her trade with Krane. And knowing she still had credit with him made his deal seem even more worthwhile. "Alright," Skirath agreed. In all honesty, she didn't know where or how to get any more upgrades for Bartlebe, but she figured she may as well take advantage of such a good offer. "We have to find a place to stay," Skirath explained to him, as they reached the Dregs. She began looking around for a suitable abandoned house.

Bartlebe stood still scanning the houses from left to right his lense going through changes. "Stop. Two to the right from where you are standing is uninhabited." Said Bartlebe. How he knew it was empty was a complete mystery to her but still very helpful. Bartlebe beeboped along to the empty one room adobe house and opened the door. "Ladies first." He said cheerfully waiting for her to go inside.

Skirath nodded at Bartlebe's politeness, and stepped into the house. The light from the four small windows revealed that the house was dirty, but at least it had a wooden bunk in the corner, and a bathtub. Skirath set her backpack down by the bunk and sat down, before opening the package of meat, and taking out one of the pieces of pork. She began eating it hungrily, glad that Bartlebe was a robot, and didn't need her to offer him food.

Bartlebe stood still as he cleaned the pieces of technology. "Slight damage to both but it's negligible. Thank you." said Bartlebe as his chest opened up revealing a mass of wires and blinking lights. He inserted the Class 1 self repair unit and it attached itself into the wires. After a moment he shut down a few minutes passed and his eyes focused on Skirath. "Updates complete. That's the ticket." said Bartlebe in a happy tone. His chest remained open during his update and he inserted the other small box into his chest, it grew expanding into a covering the blinking lights in his chest. It was replaced by a ridged circle in the center and two other smaller rigded circles. Bartlebe's chest sealed up and he shut down again. He came to minutes later and spoke in binary which Skirath didn't understand. "My apologies. It appears the update for the Phase II Plasma Emitter had to optimize my energry levels inorder be used effectively." Said Bartlebe explaining himself apologetically.

Skirath couldn't help staring at Bartlebe as he installed the self repair unit and phase II plasma emitter. She had never seen so much complex technology and found it hard to believe that a lively character such as Bartlbe could be created from metal, circuits and wires. "So do you feel better?" Skirath asked him, then took another mouthful of meat.

The Robot's posture and loose hanging limbs snapped back into place. Bartlebe easily stood another inch taller and seemed to carry himself much more confidently. "Yes indeed! I feel much better upgrades are the spice of life for Robots, Miss." Said Bartlebe brightly. If he was human Skirath imagined him smiling wide and being jovial all the time.

Skirath smiled at Bartlebe, and finished eating. She resealed the package of meat and put it into her backpack. Skirath glanced over at the bath, and then looked back to Bartlebe. "So, now that you're feeling all energized, you probably want to go and do some more trade with the people here, right?" she asked him hopefully. She really didn't want to get undressed in front of a robot.

In a bright flash of light the one room abobe was illuminated and Bartlebe's suitcase disappeared. "Righteo! I'll go increase trade relations in a positive way with the town of Farmington. Be back in a bit." Said the robot in a jovial programmed way as he exited the room.

Skirath sighed with relief that Bartlebe had gone. While she did appreciate his company, such a constantly cheerful manner was overwhelming after spending so long by herself. She walked over to the bath, and ran some water to wash out the tub, before putting the plug in and filling it up. Unfortunately the water was cold, but Skirath set up the heat emitter next to the bath in the hope that it would help keep her warm. She undressed and climbed in, grateful for a chance to wash after two weeks.

Skirath soaked letting the dead skin fleck off of her. She was shedding alot more recently than she had in prior weeks. It was making her fearful as she wasn't healing as much either. She had met other ghoul who looked more like zombies but they had been in their infected state for many more years than Skirath.

She zoned out for a moment and heard gruff voices outside the windows of one room adobe house. At first it sounded like mumbling then she was able to figure out what they were saying.

"You find that girl?"

"No."

"What about the robot?"

"I saw him heading back to the market place."

"The girl isn't so important however we need to turn the robot over to the 'Mists. So they'll give us more stuff."

"Stop talking you morons and move out! the robot could be near."

It took Skirath a few seconds before she realised what they meant. They were planning to turn Bartlebe over to the Systemists! Much as she had no particular attachment to the robot, a loathing for the systemists filled her, and she realised she had to warn Bartlebe before the men found him. She jumped out of the bath, dried quickly and pulled her last set of clean clothes out of her backpack. She dressed, and packed up her dirty clothes and the heat emitter, and stashed them and her backpack under the bunk in the corner. Skirath then put her gun and medusa knife in her pocket, and opened the door a crack to see if the coast was clear outside.

She saw the men that were talking outside the window. They were moving their separate ways all of them filty wearing animal skins and carrying spears. Their hair was long, filty and tangled from being blown by the wind. Their skin was covered with sweat that made their tans shine in the sun light.

Other people could be seen going back into their adobes at the sight of them. Though Skirath failed to know the hunters particular role in the community. Once the cost was clear she stepped out of the house into the street careful not to get any unwanted attention drawn to her. Skirath took crowdless streets and shady alleys back into the main part of Farmington where the Market Place was located in hopes that Bartlebe wouldn't be terribly hard to find.

Skirath couldn't see Bartlebe from where she was, and so started to walk around the marketplace. She tried to look inconspicous, and at the same time trying to keep an eye out for Bartlebe or the men with spears who had been searching for him. She considered asking Krane for help in finding Bartlebe, but then realised that it was probably better to avoid him altogether, in case he was the one behind this. Skirath kept walking and looking for Bartlebe.

She spotted Bartlebe at the opposite edge of the Market Place. He was talking to an old man who had a cart full of junk that appeared to have taken ahold of his mechanical interests in wanting to trade. Very carefully she edged along empty merchant stalls while staying out of line of sight.

Now that she knew where Bartlebe was, all Skirath had to do was keep her head down and try not to be seen. Being as fast and unnoticeable as possible, Skirath walked over to where Bartlebe was talking to the old man. She hoped no one had seen her, and that she'd be able to get him back to safety before they were found.

"Dear sir, these are no mere pills. They are Rad-Be-Gone! They'll protect you against the radiation that plagues most traveler's in this modern wasteland. So what do you say?" Asked Bartlebe in his salesman tone of voice. The old man looked unsure if not a bit stupid and unreasonably annoyed at Bartlebe.

"Hey Girlie! Can you tell this bucket of junk to leave me alone?" Asked the Old Man to Skirath. Bartlebe turned around and greeted Skirath, "Hello Miss! I am in the middle of a business at present please wait."

"Bartlebe, we can't wait, we have to hide. There's people after us here. They want to turn you over to the Systemists!" she whispered urgently, tugging his arm. She hoped that he believed her, and started looking around for possible ways to escape back to the house.

Bartlebe's lenses focused on Skirath then focused on the old man regretfully that he could not finish business protocol. "Fine. My apologies sir but if you'll excuse me, I have matters to attend to else where. Thanks for your time." Said Bartlebe apologetically.

"Yeah yearrghh!" said the old man as spear pierced through the front of his chest. Blood sprayed Skirath and Bartlebe and the Old Man managed one final death sigh as the spear was pulled from his back by one the hunters. "They're right 'ere!" yelled one of the hunter to the rest of his entourage.

"Run!" Skirath yelled at Bartlebe, as she ran for cover behind some empty market stalls. She ducked low and pulled her gun from her pocket, flicking the safety off. However, she didn't take the chance of turning around to shoot in case she wasn't far enough ahead, and kept moving.

She watched a Bartlebe's suitcase disappeared in a flash of light as he started ruining. "Be careful Miss!" yelled Bartlebe as he lept on the roof of one the closest adobe buildings.

Skirath made to the corner only to see two hunters had cut her off, she turned around and spotted the hunter that killed the old man. She glanced around frantically looking for a place to run to and decided she'd take her chances inside the buildings. Running through the nearest door, she knocked down a lady carrying a clay pot. "Umph!" said the woman as she hit the ground. Skirath would have apologized but the pressing matter of not being impaled by a spear didn't seem appealing to her. 

While maintaining top speed Skirath dodged and weaved in between people as she progressed through the many rooms of the building.

Her hopes were that Bartlebe had escaped. In her heart she felt a twinge of guilt that she had just left him to run by himself, with little prior knowledge of the layout of the town. Still she thought as she fled, "he was a robot." therefore he had a chance of fighting them. 

"Get out of my way!" yelled one of the spearmen. He was about three rooms away judging by how loud his voice was while he screamed at the people in his way. Skirath spotted another open door leading to the street upon entering the last room of the house.

Skirath didn't see any better options of where to run or hide, and so darted out the open door, and onto the street. She looked around, trying to find an escape route that would hopefully lead to safety.

A pair of spearmen in the alley were already there trying to keep up with Bartlebe when Skirath entered the alleyway. She hadn't been noticed yet so she kept on runnning ignoring everything but her safety and position of the hunters in correlation to her. She cautiously moved up the alleyway and praised herself for being so quick and stealthy. That praise was cut short when an slammed into the wall next to her head. She was being fired at again, this time by a bowman on top of the abobe building across from her.

Skirath was terrified, and ran even faster, turning at the intersection of the alleyway to get away from the bowman on the rooftop. She held her gun tight, and tried to steady her nerves in case she had to shoot anyone. Once again she looked around for a possible escape route that didn't go past the adobe building with which the bowman was standing on top.

He fired two more arrows at her the first one missing her head the second one nailing through the fabric of her jacket pinning her to wall. She tried to move but found the wall unyielding. She could still see him as he moved into place readying another arrow. "I suggest you stop and drop the gun before I put an arrow through your heart!"

Skirath considered trying to shoot the man, before realising that would be a death wish. She reluctantly dropped the gun and stopped struggling. She stared up at him, trying to think straight and concentrate on watching for a chance to escape. In the maelstrom of fear that currently occupied Skirath's mind, the thought occurred to her that she still had her knife in her pocket, and that thought comforted her a little.

The Bowman grinned wide and said, "Thats the ticket." He edged near the roof and began to drop off when all of a sudden in a bright flash of green his torse of was eviscerated by light and reduced to a pair of legs wearing leather pants and mocassins. The whole up body was gone and what would have been a huge spurting mess of blood and guts was blackened flesh cauterized beyond recognition.

Skirath stared wide eyed at the recent sight and completely missed the fact that Bartlebe casually strode into view. "Now Miss, I can't get spare parts if your in the competition's hands." said Bartlebe almost jokingly.

"Thanks," Skirath managed to say to Bartlebe after a few stunned seconds. She tugged at the arrow that had caught her jacket, and having no success, took out her knife and cut through it, freeing herself. She picked up her gun and returned it and her knife to her pocket. "We should get out of here," Skirath suggested, "I left my pack in the house, I'll have to go get it, but then it'd be best to leave. This way." She started hurrying in the direction of the Dregs. She was still on edge, but knowing that Bartlebe was capable of defending her, she wasn't as panicked as before.

Bartlebe stayed on the roof um they cleared it to the end of the of market place. The hunters were still in the area but weren't capable of catching up within the time it took to get to the dregs.

The Robot kind of power strode through the dregs taking streets that weren't inhabited. Bartlebe used his senses to detect human heat source through the walls of the buildings. None of them appeared to making any sort of aggressive movement towards Bartlebe and Skirath so they were home free all the way to the room.

Skirath hurried into the room and took her water purifier and three water canteens over to the bath tub. She set the water filtering while she packed her things up into her backpack. "So, any towns near here in particular you want to go to?" she asked bitterly, glancing over her shoulder at Bartlebe. She had been looking forward to staying in Farmington for a few days, and the prospect of more walking did not hold much appeal.

"Dear Lord Miss. This is the first two I've encountered in twenty two years of going from city to city. Most the cities programmed on my route are destroyed or inhabited by inhuman savages." Said Bartlebe truthfully. Despite his non-human status, he seemed fairly nervous. "Two fatalities is not good for trade relations with Farmington."

Skirath sighed, as she finished filtering the water, and put it into each of the canteens. "Well, looks like we're going to Bloomfield. It's about 15 miles east from here. I'm sure you can do more trade there." She packed up the water canteens into her backpack, and walked towards the door, peeking outside to check that it was safe to exit.

They left the adobe building, quietly and cautiously not to gain any unwanted attention. It took them the better part of an hour to finally make it out of Farmington and off the beaten path as to not give the hunter's something further to go on when searching for them.

After about two miles away from Famington Bartlebe asked with an inquisitive chirp, "So by chance you wouldn't know the location of any wares inc. warehouses would you?"

"No idea," Skirath replied. "I hadn't even heard of Wares Inc until I met you. So they are a company that manufactures and sells things?" she guessed, looking at Bartlebe. The thought occurred to her that if any of these warehouses still existed, and Bartlebe had some idea of how to get to them, it would be an absolute motherlode. "Do you think any of these warehouses still exist?" she asked hopefully.

The Robot stopped in his tracks and replied in a fairly dignified but annoyed tone, "I most certainly hope so! Wares Inc. designed there factories to withstand a 1 megaton hydrogen bomb. Now the only problem is at present I can't remember warehouse placement as my navigational systems are malfunctioning." After a moment Bartlebe started walking again.

"Hopefully we can find some way to get your navigational systems fixed," Skirath declared, the thought of a warehouse full of tradeable pre-war goods lifting her mood. She kept walking for a while, before looking at Bartlebe. "If Wares Inc planned so well as to make their factories that strong, how come the company isn't still around?" she asked.

"Well Miss. The company thought the war wasn't going to be as bad. In addition to that no one lives forever especially not humans or variations of the human gene." Said Bartlebe as started humming to himself a song Skirath had never heard before in her life.

Skirath sighed and kept walking. Part of her was appreciative of Bartlebe's company, but being around a robot made her miss human company even more. She hoped that they wouldn't have to leave the next town in the same manner that they left Farmington. She wondered if it would be worth it having Bartlebe around at all.

The day dredged on seemingly endless. The Robot was keeping stride with Skirath but she was almost dragging her heels. She was tired, lonely, frustrated and annoyed at her current situation. Last week she was alone and miserable this week she had company but it had gotten her in so much trouble.

In the distance the was someting shimmering, the smell of blood in the air was enough to get her attention further as that generally meant a free meal and salvage. As Skirath narrowed her eyes, she could tell it was a Systemist Light Patrol Jeep. Upon taking out her binoculars she was able to make out what had happened to it. There bodies everywhere, sliced to pieces and the vehicle was smashed beyond recognition. Vadbol had been through there recently. He heart sunk in her chest.

Despite the bitter disappointment of having missed Vadbol so narrowly, Skirath's mouth started watering at the prospect or more meat. And not just any meat, but Systemist, her favourite. "Looks like the Systemists ran into trouble up ahead," Skirath said, forcing a smile and looking at Bartlebe. She didn't feel like explaining about Vadbol at that moment, and picked up her pace of walking until they arrived at the wreckage.

"Oh my. Looks like they will be in need of medical assistance. I just tried to alert recent authorities and medical response teams but there are no telecommunication towers in the next 731 miles. I sure hope they can make due without any help." Said Bartlebe naively.

Skirath was dumbfounded and annoyed. She looked at Bartlebe accordingly.

"Bartlebe, for one thing, they're Systemists," Skirath explained impatiently, "They're evil. The people who wanted to capture you back at Farmington were working for them! And for another thing, they're dead! Surely you can see they're not breathing or moving, and there's blood everywhere!" Skirath sighed and rolled her eyes, and kept walking towards the destruction.

"Oh Really now?" asked Bartlebe with closest tone of anger that was possible. "Those primates had the audacity to turn me into unlawfully appointed law enforcement. They are cut off from Wares Inc.! I will report this the next manager I come across." Said Bartlebe his lenses turning red.

They were exactly fourty-five feet away from the wreck Bartlebe's lenses went back to being black. "Dear lord! I am rather overjoyed that these gentlemen are dead. How dare they try to illegaly obtain property of Wares Inc. without appropiate licensing or payments. There is something still inside the vehicle." said Bartlebe with an annoyed tone to his electronic voice as he scanned the wreckage.

"Be careful, you never know who or what it could be," Skirath warned Bartlebe, "But don't kill it yet, it could just be another scavenger." She smiled a little at the thought of having a non-robotic travelling companion. But she knew that wasn't exactly likely, and took her gun out of her pocket as they got closer.

She carefully cleared the scattered mutilated corpses and made it to the over to the vehicle. There was a man cowering in the center seat. He was still strapped in and covered with blood and filth. He was wearing a neon orange jumpsuit and a pair of hand cuffs that connected his wrists to his ankles. He looked too feeble to be a criminal though as he looked to be middle aged. His face despite the expression of blind terror looked familiar.

Skirath sighed with relief and lowered her gun when she realised that he wasn't a Systemist, but she didn't put the gun back into her pocket just in case the man turned out to be dangerous. "It's okay, we won't hurt you," she said calmly to him. She glanced at his handcuffs. "Do you know where the keys for those are?" she asked. Despite the feeling that she had seen the man somewhere before, Skirath just couldn't place who he was.

The man shook uncontrollable as if he had seen hell. It was only after a few minutes that he had acknowledged Skirath's presence by tears. The man was traumatized beyond belief.

"Pardon me Miss." Said Bartlebe gently pushing her aside. Using his robotic strength he snapped the chains of the handcuffs. "There sir you are free to move. Might I suggest some walking maybe controlled breathing. Either way sitting there is not great for ones health." Said Bartlebe his tone going soothing almost reassuring as if he was trying to salvage a business deal gone wrong.

Skirath was annoyed that the robot thought he knew more about helping traumatized people than she did, but she didn't say anything because she certainly couldn't have freed the man from his handcuffs that easily. Skirath put her gun away, and tried to think of a way she could help. She didn't want to offer the man a drink from one of her water canteens, as she had drank from them first, and so she picked up one of the blood-covered canteens that was lying in the sand. She tried to wipe some of the blood off with her sleeve, and walked back over to Bartlebe and the man. "Here, drink something," she instructed, handing him the canteen.

The man took the canteen, drank from it and began crying again. His face was flushed red with what appeared to be grief but he had cried all his tears away before Bartlebe and Skirath had arrived. He managed another swig from the canteen before letting it the floor of the vehicle.

"They're all dead. All gone." muttered the man as he got overwhelmed with another wave of grief. The tears help to wash away the blood that was caked to his face from the massacre. He was older and seemed that at some point to Skirath he was in a position of leadership. Then it hit her...it was Mayor Malm. He was a long ways away from Maronton. The Mayor was the only person not to damn her or throw rocks at her. Skirath remembered and she was almost happy as emotions flowed through her so strongly.

"Mayor Malm! It's me, Skirath," she exclaimed. Skirath was overwhelmed with gladness to see him again, but it only took a few seconds for the feeling to be replaced with the icy grip of dread. "Wait... who is dead?" she asked, searching his face for some kind of reassurance, while trying to pretend that she hadn't already guessed who were all dead.

Malm shook his head tearfully and repeated himself, "They're all dead. They're all dead!" He looked at Skirath with a look near delirium but it was one of recognition. "Skirath!" he blinked and stared at her blankly for a moment. "They're all dead. The Butcherer of Maronton killed them. Ha ha ha! He got them all. And I was powerless to help them." Laughed Malm rather insanely. He buckled over to his side and started crying some more. "They're all dead." he said again.

It was apparent that he was mentally unstable and dehydrated. Although he was uninjured the damage was to his mind. Just what exactly had happened to Skirath was debating as to what she could do. She was unsure what exactly happened to him. It was apparent he wasn't the same happy, proud man with a big heart that she'd grown up watching at town meetings and seasonal festivals.

"... Everyone?" Skirath asked quietly, the shock of what he had said sinking in, "They're all dead?"
Although Skirath had long written off the people of Maronton as her friends and family, especially since they tried to kill her, somewhere in the back of her mind she had always held the hope that if she was somehow cured of the plague, there was a chance she could return and see her family again. For all the pain they had caused her, Skirath still had love in her heart for the people of Maronton, and she could scarcely believe they were all gone.

"What is the butcherer of Maronton?" she asked.

"The Butcherer was a demon." sobbed Malm, "He showed up not long after you and that thing had came an' killed the sheriff and them farmer boys..." The former mayor trailed off tearfully and incoherently trying babbling on about the butcherer. "...we were terrified. Our guns didn't work on him. And we couldn't take him on 'cause he was too strong. Damn thing looked a zombie but it was too smart and too dangerous. It started eating all the livestock. Old Man Dunn tried to protest so he was killed..." Said Malm sighing painfully, "...His skin was stripped off of him and worn like it was clothes on that damn creature. So we worked hard to keep it feed. It ate so much. One night your parents and the Bixby boys tried to run for it but they were killed. It used the devils magic on them. Stripped them off their skin. They rolled around in pain for hours then the creature dusted them with sulfur before starting on them." He cried more and began babbling on incoherently again. Malm tried to explain further but he was too badly griefed, passed out and slumped over in the seat of the vehicle.

Bartlebe waited until Malm was unconcious to talk to speak in a low tone, "It is apparent he is suffering delusions caused by dehydration. There is no physical way magic or mutants like the one Malm described. If he had a means to trade then I could get him Depression-Be-Gone! That antidepressant for those on the go!"

Skirath sighed with disbelief and anger. "Bartlebe, he has lost everyone he ever cared about, I don't think antidepressants are going to help! I seriously doubt you understand anything about people, or what is happening here, for that matter. Magic and mutants do exist now, and your stupid Wares Inc doesn't!" Skirath sat down and closed her eyes. She wished she knew what to do, or even what to feel at that moment.

Painful emptiness crawled into her heart as she sat there quietly. Bartlebe was quiet as if Skirath somehow managed to hurt the Robot's feelings. The Robot surprised her and patted her back to the best of his robotic ability and said in the best soothing tone, "There there, your not doing too bad Miss. At present all your life signs check out as normal."

Much as she didn't like to admit it, Skirath was grateful for what little comfort Bartlebe offered. She was silent for a few more minutes, before looking up at Bartlebe again. "What should we do?" she asked him quietly, glancing at Malm, and looking back to the robot.

"Hmmmm." Bartlebe said electronically his salesman tone gone. "We take him along. The more the merrier I always say!" Said the robot in tone kicking to the salesman voice, "We need to obtain suitable supplies for him. The Canteens and rations out of the deceased soldiers supply packs will suffice for now."

The robot scooped up one of the unbroken Systemist assault rifles. He turned the gun over disassembling it out of curiousity. "AHA!" exclaimed the robot. "A wares inc. weapon detonation system. Just as I expected, your enemies are using a pirated patent of Wares inc. product. That is in serious violation of corporate protocol W sections 278-324. I will report this to the next corporate court representative we come across. These Systemists you speak of will get the pants sued off of them." Said Bartlebe smuggly. The words, "weapon detonation system" didn't seem like fun to Skirath infact they spiked here interests.

"I'm pretty sure there aren't any Wares Inc corporate court representatives still around," Skirath said under her breath, before going over to collect to collect anything of value or use from the systemists' supply packs.

She scavenged their supply packs. Alot of the food had been ruined by the blood. Vadbol had done a fine job rendering most of it useful. But she uncovered about seven days instant rations, four one and a half liter canteens, eight doses of anti radiation medicine, a first aid kit and about twenty .45 caliber slugs. Skirath made off like a chinese bandit. The downside was that most of it was for Malm.

Bartlebe's suitcase appeared in his hand again. He opened it, fumbled through his wares until he found a strange black syringe with a red solution in it. He closed the suitcase and it disappeared again. He walked over to where Malm lay unconcious and pulled his shirt sleeve up. He was going to inject Malm with the syringe.

Skirath walked over to watch what Bartlebe was doing. "What is that stuff?" she asked suspiciously. Although Bartlebe had good intentions, she guessed that someone who still thought Wares Inc. was an active company was not perfect and could easily make mistakes.

"It's Immuno! The latest booster shot for the ill on the go! It also increases the white blood cell count temporarily along with artificially patented, Wares Inc. Adrenalex!" Said Bartlebe sloganizing Immuno as he injected Malm. He didn't budge from his exhaustive sleep. "There. It'll wake him up in twenty minutes." said the Robot as he disposed of the syringe.

"Wow," Skirath said, impressed, "You certainly know your products." She started putting the things she had scavenged into her backpack. Despite her gladness at seeing Malm again, Skirath wished it could have been under better circumstances. She dreaded having to make conversation with someone so grief-stricken, as she didn't know what to say or how to help.

"Indeed I do. All four hundred product that I am licensed to handle and sell at present!" Said Bartlebe proudly.

Exactly twenty minutes had passed and Malm snapped to conciousness. Tiredly yawning he asked, "Where am I?" He sat up and stumbled out of the smashed vehicle. Malm did his best to take in his surroundings before collapsing to his knees. "Why!? DAMNIT! WHY?!" He screamed as head punched the ground. It was apparent his mourning wasn't done by a long shot.

Bartlebe leaned over to Skirath and whispered, "Depression Be Gone will fix that in a heart beat."

Skirath didn't like the idea of using strange medicines to fix natural grief, but she didn't have a better idea, and saw that it would be useless trying to get Malm to travel in the condition he was in. "Alright, you'd better give him some," she agreed, part of her concerned, but part of her curious to see what the effect would be. "We should get moving soon so we can make it to the next town as quick as possible," Skirath added.

"That will do for now. Let's leave. Corpses are bad for business." Said Bartlebe in a cheerful yet bitter tone. He forced Malm along despite his pain and frustration.

The trio moved for the better part of four hours non stop except when Malm would break down crying. After the third stop, Skirath saw Bartlebe what she thought was Depression Be Gone into his water canteen. Within thirty more minutes Malm was chemically cheered up and they were within sight of Bloomfield.

"We should find a place to stay for the night before you do any trading," Skirath suggested to Bartlebe, "And you never know, the people here may react in the same way as they did back in Farmington. I guess we'll just have to be careful." She kept walking, the prospect of a good night's sleep somewhere safe holding a lot of appeal after such a hard day.

Bartlebe's eyes turned red as he scanned the nearby area for a place suitable for the humans to sleep. "Aha! There is a shack exactly fourty five feet to the north east of us on top of that hill. There is no one inhabiting it and judging by basic readouts it is structurally safe." Said Bartlebe arrogantly praising his superior but limited computer sensors.

Skirath smiled at both Bartlebe's self-congratulatory arrogance, and the fact that despite it, he was very useful. "Good idea," she agreed, and started walking towards the shack on the hill.

"So we're going to camp here tonight?" Asked Malm as he made it to the top of the hill beside Skirath.

Bartlebe was the first to brave the clearing and opened the shack door. "Ladies First, Gentlemen second and Robots third!" Said Bartlebe as he waited patiently in the doorway.

"Yeah, hopefully we'll be able to check out the town tomorrow if we sleep here." Skirath explained to Malm, stepping through the door of the shack, and looking around to see if it was safe in there.

He nodded tiredly and walked into the shack. Bartlebe followed. It was dusty and barren as if it hadn't been used in years. Other than that it was a fairly welcoming one room shack. Malm sat in the corner and went to sleep after drinking some water out of his Canteen. Bartlebe on the other hand went into recharge mode. Skirath was alone again this time the opportunity to plan the next day came into mind.

Skirath got out her sleeping bag, and crawled inside. She stared up at the ceiling of the shack as she thought about what to do. She hoped to have a look around Bloomfield the next day, and she guessed that Bartlebe would probably want to do some trading. She wondered whether Malm would be well enough to visit the town, and whether the people would respond well to Bartlebe. After a while, Skirath drifted off to sleep.

Many hours later Skirath's sleep was interrupted by the sound of a thundering explosion that shattered the windows in the shack.

"Dear lord! It appears someone has activated a bomb of some sort." Said Bartlebe as he was snapped from recharge mode.

Malm jumped up screaming incohorently and running for the door before Bartlebe stepped in the way to keep him from leaving. "I do not advise stepping outside at present I currently detect over three hundred lifeforms all with minimal blood flow activity." Said Bartlebe in an analytical tone as he glanced out the broken window.

Skirath was scared, but knowing the advanced weaponry that Bartlebe had was a lot of comfort to her. She gingerly peered out the window, trying to get a look at what exactly the life forms were.

Upon looks out the window she saw men and women wearing tattered clothes. In the moon light their skin shined golden. They carried guns of all shapes and sizes but at the distance Skirath was at she couldn't get a make on the types of guns they were carrying. They began to scream in unison as they charged towards Bloomfield. Soon the rumble and flash of explosions was drown out by the screams of the Golden people.

Skirath stepped away from the window, and looked at Bartlebe and Malm. She had never seen anything like the golden people before, and didn't know whether they were good, or bad, or how powerful they were, but she guessed that they weren't trying to be friends. "Okay," she said, trying to steady her nerves, "We should stay here. I don't think they've noticed us." Immediately, the thought of the townspeople entered Skirath's mind, bringing back memories of what happened to Otto. But she tried to push them out of her mind and think rationally. "Maybe we'll be able to help the townspeople later, but as it is we'd get killed," she reasoned, trying to reassure herself.

"Jesus!" Said Malm woefully as he sat in the corner, curled into fetal position and began crying.

Bartlebe sighed electronically as he treated Malm's canteen with a secret dose of Depression Be Gone.

The battle raged on outside of the shack. Bloomfield was under assault from the Golden People. The explosions ceased and the clatter of gun fire popped off and on in the distance. The ground rumbled slightly and the huge lumbering mass of metal could be seen coming into view. It's armor shined in the darkness but yet the face was unseen.

"Quiet," Skirath whispered to Malm and Bartlebe, sitting down and trying to stay still so that the Golden person outside didn't notice them. She reached into her pocket and took out her gun, just in case. Although she was nervous and frightened of the armoured person, the hope that it would turn out to be friendly stayed in the back of her mind.

As it moved passed it misted fluids from inside of it's armor. It was symmetrically deformed with a second set of blade tipped appendages running the length of twelve feet on the shoulder blades of it's back. The were arched like a scorpions tail over head. It's standard arms had nothing attached to them. More fluid was misted from it and with the mist carried the scent of blood. 

Everyone in the shack quieted. As it chugged passed the shack and towards Bloomfield. Before it completely finished passing the area where the shack was the Golden Machine turned it's bald head focusing it eyes on Skirath and she could feel it but yet it kept on it's original mission.

Skirath froze as one thought echoed in her mind. "Vadbol!" she gasped. The hope that she would see him again was overwhelming, and she knew she would regret it for the rest of her life if she missed this chance. And so Skirath stood up. "I know him," she explained quickly to Bartlebe and Malm, and stepped out the door to follow the machine, in the hope that it was, in fact, Vadbol.

She opened the door and began chasing the machine as it moved along behind it's army. Her heart beat like a steel drum with excitment as she cleared the distance between it and her quickly. Soon she was behind the mass and it was still ignoring her. It was much bigger up close by here estimate it was nearly twenty feet tall and it seemed to emit an aura of hatred around it. Yet Skirath still stood there anxious.

"Vadbol?" she asked timidly, tugging on its arm. She looked up at it hopefully, trying not to be scared, and thinking of how good it would be if she could get Vadbol to travel with her again.

It turned around the moonlight lit the Eight on it's forehead up. It's eyes were white and seemed to be looking over her. It's two bladed appendages on it's back seemed to be ready to strike yet it didn't make a move.

After a moment Eight turned around and kept walking. It's step widening as it got further away from Skirath.

Seeing the eight on its forehead sent a thrill of hope through Skirath. "Vadbol, It's you! Come back!" she exclaimed, running after it. She didn't understand why he was ignoring her, and she hoped he hadn't forgotten who she was.

He kept moving. Soon he was so much further away from her. As if he were purposely ignoring her. She knew it'd be impossible to maintain the same kind of relationship they used to hold over a year ago but she denied it for what hope remained inside her. Vadbol had changed so much as his eight persona took over with each kill. He was killing machine and no longer a person.

"Please, come back, Vadbol!" Skirath called after him, trying not to cry. Despite the futility of it, she kept running after him, fueled by the thought that he might remember her.

Soon she was winded, exhausted and falling down with each step. Vadbol was long gone, already joining the fight in Bloomfield. Skirath tried to fight the tears but they were flowing.

Skirath sighed and sat down on the ground. She buried her head in her hands and tried to make sense of it all. Vadbol had changed. Her family were dead. All the things that had given her small rays of hope were gone. She sat there and cried, not wanting to go back to the shack and face Bartlebe and Malm.

She felt a hand on her shoulder the touch of another human being snapped her from tearful regrets in the field. "Hey lady. we need to get moving. Those damn gold bastards are gonna be coming for us if we stay here too long." said a man with a big bushy beard. He helped her back to her feet and began to jog. "Come on lady! We need to get out of here!" he yelled as she held Skirath up. Malm and Bartlebe ran up to them. "Miss we need to get back in the shack before they our cover is blown." Said Bartlebe. "Sir this way!" Said Malm to the bearded man as he helped to carry Skirath back into the shack.

Skirath sniffed, wiped her eyes and tried to look dignified. She tried to ignore the crushing despair of knowing that she would never see the real Vadbol again. Thankfully she had the distraction of meeting a new person, and when they got back to the shack, she forced a smile. "Thanks," she said to the bearded stranger.

"Your welcome." He said as he started thumbing through his satchel pack. "Are you ok?" He asked.

"Excuse me sir." interrupted Bartlebe, "But could you please explain to us just what is happening?" finishing his robotic statment with a question.

"Everyone just calm down! Damnit! They'll be time to answer questions later." Exclaimed Malm asserting himself over everyone. It was the first time he wasn't seen in the grips of depression and mental agony.

Skirath was glad to see Malm's leadership abilities were still intact, although she didn't see what the hurry was. If they were going to stay and hide in the shack, she thought it would be best to know what was going on, in case they wouldn't be safe. Skirath looked out the window, pretending to watch the destruction, but scanning the distance for any sign of Vadbol. "Who are they? And why are they attacking the city?" Skirath asked the bearded man.

"An army of zombies lead by Number 8. Or at least that's what my history tells me." Said the bearded man. Upon further appraisal other than the mans bushy beard he was very skinny and appeard somewhat young and if it wasn't for the blood and soot covering him he'd be fairly clean cut. He glanced around the room at The Robot, The Older Man, Skirath and said, "I don't know why they are attacking honestly. I think maybe because the Mists have an outpost there."

Bartlebe replied with a short and less annoying, "Interesting."

Whereas Malm seemed incredulous and skeptic of what the bearded man said, "Horseshit! They ain't zombies. Zombies don't carry guns or scream. Nor do they get lead by no number 8. I'd say that thing was one of the horseman of the apocalypse."

Skirath sighed. "No, he's Vadbol," she explained. "He used to be a very good friend of mine. He saved my life several times. He was the one who brought me back to Maronton. After his entire town was destroyed by Systemists, he kind of... changed. I don't think he's a person anymore. I'm guessing he spends his life killing systemists now. But I have no idea who the golden people are." Skirath took one last look out the window, before turning to the bearded man. "So what is your name?" she asked.

"Herms" said the bearded man as he added, "Herms of the Iron Cog clan." He rooted around in his supply pack for a moment before looking at everyone and smiling somewhat exhaustively.

"Pleasure to meet you sir." Said Bartlebe.

Malm looked at Skirath and Herms distrustfully. He nodded and shook Herms hand though despite his expressions and mannerisms.

Skirath smiled at Malm, trying to reassure him. Perhaps she shouldn't have mentioned that Vadbol was the one who brought her back to Maronton. "Do you think we'll be safe if we stay here, or should we get away while we can?" Skirath asked everyone. Part of her didn't want to leave in case she got the chance to see Vadbol again, but she knew it wasn't worth risking the lives of the others if staying was dangerous.

"No. We stay here if can, it's much too dangerous given the lack of light outside." Said Herms. He paused for a minute and looked at Bartlebe. "Whoa! Shit! A robot!" exclaimed Herms with a tone of surprise.

Malm looked at him with contempt then at Skirath. He hesitated for a moment before speaking rather annoyedly, "Why should we wait here? huh Herms? What about that damned Robot?!"

Herms raised gestured his hands for Malm to calm down. "Because I have a car in Bloomfield. If they don't raze it to the ground."

Bartlebe chirped inquisitively, "Ooo A vehicular means of transportation?" 

Skirath was delighted to hear that Herms had a car. She had never been in a working car, and the thought of not having to walk everywhere was certainly very appealing. Also, she was glad they were not going to leave, as she had hoped that she'd get a chance to find anything of value in Bloomfield that she could use or trade later. "Don't worry about Bartlebe," Skirath said reassuringly to Herms, nodding towards the robot, "He won't hurt you, he's a salesman robot."

"Sure he is. If the text books stated correctly he is a Business Model 10-978. I am right aren't I?" Asked Herms.

"Correction Sir, Model 10-978b developed before they developed the Model 10-998a." Said Bartlebe asserting himself arrogantly over the clans man.

Malm groaned and went back to hiding in the corner. It was apparent that he was mentally unstable despite his leadership abilities he needed help that Drugs or Skirath couldn't provide.

Skirath sighed. She wished she could do something to help Malm, but didn't even know where to begin. She looked at Herms. "Do you know anything that would help him?" she asked quietly, "His entire town were killed, and I just don't know what to do."

"Oh...Well something like that takes time. You can't force someone to be better." Said Herms reassuringly to Skirath and audibly enough for Malm to hear.

Herms sat down against the wall and sighed exhaustively. "We all need rest. Especially me I've been traveling all day. And at present I am very lucky to be alive right now." Said Herms as he rubbed his eyes.

"Yeah, that's a good idea," Skirath agreed half-heartedly, knowing that she probably wouldn't be able to sleep. She climbed back into her sleeping bag and closed her eyes, trying to clear her mind of thoughts of Vadbol.

Sleep came quickly for everyone else but Skirath as she lay awake. She silently layed there on her side of the room tearfully thinking of Vadbol. Eventually sleep got a hold of her and pulled her away to the land of dreams.

She awoke the next morning with Herms shaking her gently. "Hey it's 9am. We should move out, Bartlebe and Malm are waiting outside." Said Herms in good morning tone.

Skirath didn't want to get up, until she remembered that they'd be going to Bloomfield. She wondered if they'd find any people alive, and hoped so. She also hoped that they'd find anything worth trading or keeping. Skirath got up and packed up her things. "Do you think it's safe to go into the town?" she asked Herms as she walked out of the shack, and looked down at what was left of Bloomfield.

"It'll be safe. If not then we're likely to have a rather bad day." Said Herms jokingly. He helped her pack her stuff up and met her outside once they'd got good to go.

The group of four traversed the mile or so to Bloomfield. On the way they found craters and pools of blood where people were killed.

Within thirty minutes they saw that most of Bloomfield had be ruined by the golden people and Vadbol, The Slave Maker. There wasn't much to salvage though as all the guns that would normally be laying about were gone along with most the corpses.

Some of the people of Bloomfield, mainly women and children were out salvaging what they could from the destruction brought on by the battle last night. No one dared bother to confront the entourage as they neared the garage where Herms car was located.

Skirath was glad to see that Vadbol and the golden people hadn't massacred all the people of Bloomfield, like the Systemists had killed all the residents of Otto, but at the same time she was slightly annoyed that there wasn't anything to scavenge from the town that the people hadn't already picked up. Skirath followed Herms, looking forward to her first car trip.

Herms opened the garage doors, inside was a rather large, four door, slightly banged up, light tiel blue car that had the lettering Toyota Corrolis on it. "Thank god! It's wasn't destroyed." exclaimed Herms jubilantly as he went to the driver's side door and keyed in the entry code. As it unlocked he quipped, "Gotta love keyless entry."

"Oh this is a 2097 model Toyota Corrolis! It is in next to impeccable condition sans the aging and mild damage to it. Sir how did you keep such an old vehicle in good condition?" Asked Bartlebe rather excitedly as he moved up on the back door of the passenger side.

Malm looked at the car bug eyed. He had never seen a car before in his entire life until recently. So it was something new to him. "Wow...Nice car..." Said malm as he trailed off and went to the driver's side back door.

The Clansman smiled and said, "Looks like you're riding shotgun Skirath."

"What about my question?" Asked Bartlebe in a tone of impatience.

"Oh yes! Well you see Bartlebe. It's ancient chinese magic. Meaning it's a secret only I and my clans folk know. Sorry." Said Herms as he climbed into the passenger seat.

Skirath smiled excitedly as she opened the door and got into the car. "Wow," she couldn't help saying, looking around at the spacious interior, in much better condition than the ruined cars that she had seen before. Skirath turned to Herms. "How much did this cost?" she asked in wonder. She was beginning to hope that Herms would want to travel with her in future, as he seemed nice enough, and the prospect of a car for transportation was definitely favourable to walking.

With a twist of his wrist the car came to life. Wind started blowing from the the metallic and plastic slits on the front of the car where there steering wheel and various knobs and buttons were attached. It had no real temperature but it
definitely felt good.

"Ok everyone buckle your safety belts and sit back for ride of your life time." Said Herms as he click his safety belt on
and drove out of the garage. The car humming along almost silently. Upon hitting the sunlight the windows automatically tinted to block out sunlight but were still transparent enough to see what was outside the car.

Skirath buckled her safety belt and stared out the window of the car. She felt so rich and lucky being able to ride in a car that she almost forgot that it was a means of transportation. "So, where are we going?" she asked Herms.

"We're going to look for my brother who has some crazy misconception of what tradition is. The only other place I know to look is a city called Hell Mechs to the south." Said Herms as he turned a few of the knobs at the center of the console. Causing the air in the car to cool down.

Bartlebe seemed quite content with situation at hand. And Malm was out cold with his head laying back against the seat.
His mouth was open and a bit of drool hung from his lower lip.

"What did your brother do?" Skirath asked, curious. She was quite happy to be travelling with Herms, and interested by
what motivated him. Although she didn't like the sound of a city called "Hell Mechs", she felt safe because she wasn't
travelling alone.

"My Twin Brother was a Systemist. We need him back at our enclave, Father passed away. I heard from the officials at Bloomfield that he went AWOL. That further complicates matters further for me." Said Herms with his eyes on the road, his tone was a bit annoyed.

"Ahhh, I see," Skirath said, although she didn't really understand the workings of clans or why Herms's brother was needed. She sat there, staring out the window and enjoying the ride, when she remembered that she still had some raw meat that she had traded for in Farmington. She didn't like the thought of it going off, and so took the package of meat out of her backpack and started eating.

Herms slammed on the breaks. "Whoa! No eating in the car please. Food is exceptionally hard to clean out of upholstery. Is that raw meat?" He asked.

"Sorry," Skirath apologized, and put the meat away. "Yes, it's raw meat. Want some?" she offered, half-jokingly. She wondered whether Herms knew she was a ghoul and raw meat was all she ate. She hoped he didn't mind.

"No. Actually, I am not allowed to eat food from outsiders. No offense." Said Herms. He started driving again and the air conditioner kicked on to cold.

"None taken," Skirath said, smiling wryly. "So there's all these rules you have to follow being a clansman?" she asked.

In a singing voice he comedically said, "In order to function with in the wasteland you must follow the rules of the clan! Meanings no foreign foods, trade only with the civilized and kill those who threaten you or your entourage!" He quieted up and kept driving.

Skirath could see that Bartlebe was in charging mode since his services at present weren't needed.

She smiled and sat in her seat, enjoying the ride in the car and looking out the windows.

There was nothing but grass land and desert with the occassional abandoned buildings that Skirath had searched previously in her travels. To her it was places she had already been and had no luck scavening anything of use.

"So how long do you think it will take to get there?" Skirath asked, looking at Herms.

He hummed to himself for a moment before answering Skirath's question, "It'll be about an hour and a half. So if you need to sleep or anything feel free. Just please try not to stain the upholstery. Thanks."

They were driving across old road ways that had fallen into disrepair. Yet the car didn't swerve or shake. The tires weren't deflated when they drove over jagged patches of land.

"Gotta love them run flat tires." Said Herms as he whistled soem ancient tune to himself.

Skirath smiled. Sleep was probably a good idea. "Wake me up when we get there," she said cheerfully, leaning back and closing her eyes.

She was awoken by some sort of discordantly jarring noise with singing that was soothing at the same time. Herms appeared to be lipsyncing with it. Bartlebe was awake too and it was apparent that he was trying to analyze it. Malm was still out cold.

Skirath rubbed her eyes and looked at Herms. "What's that noise?" she asked, mildly annoyed at being woken.

He looked at her, smiled and said proudly, "It's music broadcasting from one of the last satellites orbiting the earth."

"There is a total of fourty-seven still operating in full orbit around the earth. Twenty of them are owned by Wares Inc." Interjected Bartlebe gleefully in his own robotic way.

"And they still work? Haven't they run out of power by now?" Skirath asked, "And who decides which music to play?"

Before Bartlebe could reply in a timely fashion he was interrupted by Herms, "It's random. I remember learning that all satellites are powered by solar energy. The dj is an A.I. I think but I could be wrong."

"Indeed! It is a type B A.I. governing what songs that it plays. It's name is Nimbus and it is very tempermental." said Bartlebe adding to what Herms said, his voice carried a slight impressed tone.

"Wow," Skirath said, impressed, "This car must have cost a lot, picking up music from satelites and everything." She leaned back and listened to the music, enjoying it, as it reminded her a little of the music that was playing on the night she met Elroy.

Herms focused on the road and said, "Yeah...actually this car has been in my family for close to two hundred years. It was restored by one of the greatest mechanics who could have run our clan. I have no idea who he is or was because not even my father never utters his name. Other than that, we've perfect a way of making our vehicles resistant to the elements and capable of operating on more reliable sources of energy. In other words clean fuels." He went quiet for a moment.

"More reliable sources of energy?" Asked Bartlebe rhetorically, "He means to say a hydrogen fuel cell. That is no family secret. Being able to maintain such a power source in this day and age appears impossible." added Bartlebe almost incredulously.

"Hydrogen fuel cell?" Skirath asked, feigning interest. The inner workings of a car was not something she was fascinated by. It all seemed too technical to even begin to understand.

"It is a type of battery that uses hydrogen which is basically water and air that reacts to produce electricity. Which keeps this car running, the air cool and this music playing." Said Herms breaking things down for her so that she would understand. He looked in the back seat at Bartlebe and shook his head. Bartlebe followed his body language and shut the hell up.

Skirath nodded, and then looked at Bartlebe. "What's wrong with a hydrogen fuel cell? Isn't it a really good thing if it's made from just water?"

"Before Bartlebe gives us the scientific explanation of a HFC. It's a very good thing. This car can run for weeks on end off one Fuel Cell. ANd that is great considering that before it got modified, it'd guzzle insane amounts of gasoline." Said Herms as he defused the entire situation.

"Oh. Okay," Skirath said quietly. She was annoyed that she didn't get to hear Bartlebe's explanation, but didn't want to complain because she didn't want to offend Herms, who was the one with the car. Skirath sat back in her seat and gazed out the window, wondering what would happen when they reached the town.

It wasn't much longer in their trip till Skirath saw the steel walls of Hell Mech's looming in the horizon. White smoke billowed from smoke stacks and cranes could be scene operating past the top of the walls. It was strangely terrifying for Skirath as she had not scene such technology passed what she had encountered with Vadbol, Bartlebe and Herms.

"What are those things?" Skirath asked, pointing to the cranes. She could guess that the smoke stacks were larger versions of chimneys, but the purpose of the cranes was somewhat unknown. She hoped they weren't weapons.

"Those are cranes. They are used to move supplies and otherwise unmoveable materials from one place to another. The smoke is coming from factories which manufacture Hydrogen Fuel Cells." Said Herms as they neared the city.

"Perhaps I can find spare parts and another trade route." said Bartlebe anxiously.

Malm woke up and sighed. "Where are we?" he asked tiredly.

"Hell Mech's" Said Herms, not looking away from the road.

He stopped at the gate and got out of the car. He shouted up at the wall, "I am Herms! From the Iron Cog Clan! I am looking for my brother. Open up!"

After a few moments the steel gates opened, Herms got back in the car and they drove through into the city.

Skirath watched Herms in awe. She was surprised that they let Herms in without any trouble, or even any more questions. "Do they know you here?" she asked him, trying to work out why there was so little fuss.

He looked at her and pulled a pair of welder's goggles from his satchell pack. "Yeah they know me here. I was supposed to be married to Chief Mechan's daughter Muriel but it appears that my brother has made plans change. Hence why this is the only other place I know to look." Said Herms as he pulled the car into a parking garage.

"Alright folks time to get out! Be sure to leave all your weapons in the car. And please keep it civil. The Mechan's are rarely forgiving for slights." Said Herms as he got out of the car.

Malm was second, Bartlbe third and Skirath Last. The garage had an attendent that appeared to be cleaning the outside of the car.

Despite obvious damage to the city, it was still operational and from the looks of things it was getting ready for something big.

Skirath looked around, fascinated by all the strange techological things she saw in the city. "What's going on here?" she asked Herms.

"They are manufacturing Hydrogen Fuel Cells. A lost art reserved for their clan. Just like being able to repair and maintain machinery and vehicle's is my clan's specialty." Said Herms as they walked out into the sunlight.

Bartlebe and Malm followed at a distance. It was obvious that Bartlebe was going on about the buildings and machinery around the city. It was annoying Malm to no ends.

"So what did your brother do to make plans for your wedding change?" Skirath asked, walking along beside Herms. Herms's past was much more interesting than hydrogen fuel cells.

As they walked around town casually Herms explained his situation, "He turned his back on our way of life to become a Systemist. Granted they are some what noble, I do not feel that they are the best group of people to be followed. So in his travels he came here and courted Muriel. Chief Mechans disproves but it's not going to stop him from following his heart. So it's up to me to talk some sense into him."

"But does it matter that he's a Systemist?" Skirath asked. "If they love each other, then it is up to them what do." The thought of two people missing out on the chance to be happy together because of one's occupation didn't seem right to Skirath.

"Yes it does. He has violated a heritage that has gone way back since before the great collapse. I suppose you might be right but our father has his wishes and I must respect them till the day he passed away." Said Herms in a defensive tone.

"Ahhh okay," Skirath said, nodding. She was learning more and more about the bizarre code of being a clansman and didn't push the subject. Herms was obviously strongly influenced by his heritage and family, and Skirath felt a pang of jealousy. She wished she felt the same sense of belonging to something that he did.

They walked silently for a bit more listening to Bartlebe and Malm's verbal disargements. It was rather entertaining as the robot chirped on about the specs of each piece of equipment in the construction yard. Malm replied with epithets and expletives at the robot. At which case Herms smirked and held his laughter. It was clear the robot was just giving the old man a hard time. Almost as if he were a real person.

Skirath was almost as entertained by Bartlebe and Malm's disagreement as Herms was, but she was also getting sick of Bartlebe's constant techno-babble. She slowed down enough to catch up with them. She pointed out, "Bartlebe, I know all this technology is wonderful, but do you really need to go on about it like that? Perhaps it would be better for business if you didn't." she pointed out.

"Ah right." Said Bartlebe as he shut up. "Thank you Skirath." Said Malm thankfully while looking at the robot with a great deal of contempt.

Skirath smiled at both Malm and Bartlebe, and kept walking. She was very curious to see how things between Herms and his brother would play out when they finally caught up with each other. the thought of that distracted her from other, less pleasant thoughts that hung in the back of her mind. Such as Vadbol, and the demise of her family.

Eventually the group of four happened up the living quarters of Hell Mechs. There were several sealed buildings and small fields where food and other crops were growing. There were people at work and for the most part they ignored the old man, robot, ghoul and clansman.

Skirath stared at the people and the buildings, hoping she'd get a chance to explore the town later if all went well with Herms and his brother. She kept walking, and wondered if she'd get to watch what happened between them.

The ground shook lightly for a moment. Then again a few minutes later. It was rather unsettling for Skirath as she wasn't familiar with the feeling before then.

Herms looked at her oddly then Malm. Bartlebe stood still.

"It appears we're encountering mild seismic activity." Said Bartlebe.

"Seismic activity?" Skirath asked, hoping that didn't mean the city was under attack. She was somewhat reassured by the fact that Bartlebe wasn't panicking.

The robot looked at her and did the equivalent of blinking, "Yes indeed. Seismic activity. It would be apparent there is an earthquake happening only a few hundred yards away from here." Said Bartlebe answering Skirath's question.

Off in the distance towards the gate was the loud humming before it slammed into one of the garages with an audible crash. Herms squinted looking to see what was going on at the gate. "What the hell was that?" he asked.

"Trouble." Said Malm as he started walking towards the gate.

Bartlebe followed and uttered, "If only my mechanical eyes could see further."

Although Skirath did indeed want a closer look at whatever had made the noise. She was a little wary of just rushing over but couldn't think of a better idea. She started walking and looked at Herms. "What do you think it is?" she asked him.

"Probably someone with motorcycle troubles. And from the sound of it they wrecked out. God quite alot militia men over there. I hope everything is ok." Said Herms as they neared the raucous.

They saw a woman covered in dirt wearing cowboy hat and blond wig being led away towards the guard post. She appeared to be putting up quite a fight. One of the militia men was holding his nose apparently she had broken it and now blood oozed past his fingers.

She was yelling something that was unrecognizable at first but after she repeated herself if came out as, "They're outside your city! You'll all be fucking dead if you just don't listen! Just let go, there's demons!"

But they didn't let go of her. And soon she was gone into the guard station. None of the other militia looked to see if she was telling the truth as if their sense had become jaded.

Malm looked, Herms followed and Bartlebe added, "I don't see anything yet."

"Dear christ! They've come for me!" Screamed Malm as he took off running.

From what Skirath could see was a few hundred giants running across the field. Their hides were blacked and gleamed almost red in the sun light, eyes glowing luminescent black and all of them appeared to have one goal in mind. Complete and utter destruction Hell Mechs.

"We've got to get out of here!" Skirath exclaimed, panicking, and starting to run towards Herms's car. "Come on, your car is our best chance!" she yelled. The thought occurred to Skirath that so many of the cities she had visited had been destroyed, and she hoped that it wasn't somehow her fault.

Herms looked at her then looked Bartlebe and at Malm as he ran off screaming. "You do not know the strength of Hell Mechs. The Mechans are one of a few clans with access to prewar weapons of destruction. Also that field has pits all in it so leaving that way is out of the question." Malm walked over to the gate release and clicked it down.

He glanced back at Skirath, "We stay and fight but first we need that cowgirl!"

And so it had been done, the end of Skirath's life unable to flee from conflict like she had many times before in her travels. She hoped for someone to come and get her out of there, she hoped to be rescued by Vadbol in his blooded golden armor. Her last tiny bit of glimmered hope had fallen away and now it was only a matter of time before untimely demise.