Welcome to the Wasteland

Chapter 1

Hot. All he knew was that it was way too hot out and he needed some shade and lemonade. He however, figured these things wouldn't be found in this gritty sand desert. The mounds of sand were a dark yellow tan and as far as he could tell, the wind seemed to sit perfectly still except where he was. Sometimes there would be a spot around him where the coarse sand lazily slid down and created swirls, even picking too small tornado like towers that stung his arms and unprotected torso. He had taken off the skin tight elastic shirt he was wearing when he awoke on the side of a hill, and turned it into a headwrap. His skin wasn't burnt yet so he figured he hadn't been out there too long, having a light tan on his fair skin and rough hands. The head wrap worked well to protect his face and keep him cool, the material was light and breathable, while its dark blue color shaded him very well but didn't get hot at all. He checked the back of the god sent shirt to find two words, "Congelat Cor" on the back. He had no idea what this meant but he assumed it was somehow important because it was on a shirt. He chuckled at this logic and said to himself "You know, while i'm at it, I should just name myself after the damn thing" but upon looking at it he realized he could, and wanted to. He took out the, not so good sounding, 'gelatc' from the middle of his shirt and was left with a fashionable name of Conor.

"Would you look at that" he said to himself as he peaked the seemingly never ending mound of sand he was conquering. "I got myself a name and clothes, I think I've won life at this point.." his voice trailed off as he looked out to the terrain in front of him. What Conor was looking at was both extremely beautiful, but also so nerve racking that a serious toll was put on his hope. The terrain observable from the top of the desert everest was a large one, the desert connected to the ground far below it, which appeared to be dirt, cracked and dried by the sun. The earth seemed to stretch forever only interrupted by three massive plateaus. These titans of the area looked absolutely ancient, the deep grey of the tough, ragged stone was a beautiful contrast to its bleak surroundings. "Well then, this will be a problem. Water might be hard to find in a blazing heap of sand and this whole area seems baren". He then spotted what looked like an oil rig pumping away, barely visible because of the mass of earth jetting into the sky. "Nevermind then, things seem to be okay" he said aloud "They have to help out a guy like me right? I mean look at me, I have a highly fashionable shirt, what appear to be military jeans but in a tan camo and some nice looking boots". He bent over to dust off the dusty brown boots, they had darker brown laces tied up neatly and when Conor pushed on the top to see how well they fit, he realized they were steel toed. "I'm ready for this" he said happily, not letting the fear of this new place or the absolute inability to remember life until 6 minutes ago get to him. He knew he had a sense of humor and that would absolutely help him through this desert and back to... Back to what exactly, what did he have?

"I don't know my past" Conor remarked, feeling the weight of the statement. Did he have family? A wife? A home? All of these deep troubling questions were cut off by what can only be described as ' A crazy motha fucka in what looks like a Volkswagon beetle given a sand finish and exhaust pipes coming from under the vehicle spewing flames, flying over the last sand mound Conor had surpassed'. This startled Conor so he tripped over the boots he was still admiring, and the beast of a vehicle came hauling towards his at an shocking speed. It turned slightly to go to Conor's left then turned hard drifting around him and ending just to his right. He approached the car, looking at it curiously with no real idea of what was to happen.

"Take one more step and I'll shoot you in the pretty little heart" a rough voice said from with the armored vehicle. Conor could now see that it was in fact a bug, And the insect like look was hexagonal plates of metal welded on in a pattern to give it the unique look. The tires didn't have treds, it had what looked like bloated V's upside down on it going horizontally, this made the tired scoop sand and move better on it, rather than sink into it.The windshield was long rectangular bars lapping over each other downwards, except for in the space where the driver would see through. This space had a layer of strong fencing for what reason Conor didn't know. The back was completely confusing for poor Conor, the top of the truck was what opened, meaning it was hinged at the bottom and the open space would be facing the sky. With locks on the inside that only let it open enough for a person to move around in and out of, you didn't have to worry about the door opening all the way to the ground. This feature was used so that the driver could climb in the back and scout, shoot, do normal driver stuff, and urinate. It also appeared to be used to shoot the reel of wire otop the car attached to the center of the car through the roof, and a massive harpoon gun. "This is one fucked up car" Conor said aloud. Unfortunately the driver with a sawed off shotgun heard this and wasn't happy. "Oh really?" the now quickly approaching man said, and after what seemed like less than instantly, Conor was on the ground with a ringing in his ear and blood in his mouth.