Waiting Out the End of the World in West Texas.

There was always the sun, even as humanity festers and falls, the sun shines bright on their demise. Sheba Malik surveyed her property; over 40,000 acres of open field with the Chisos mountains rounding their way up to the sky like the heads of Indian elephants. White garments fluttering in the wind, she stood on the top of a concrete box, one of fifteen identical rectangles mathematically laid out across the overgrown field. She loved to perch there and watch the cattle graze. She tugged the wide brim of her bleached hat down and adjuster her scarf, no skin could be allowed direct exposure to the harsh rays for more than a moment.

"Hay invasores al este del pastoreo de ganado." Jefe's voice came from behind her as he rode up on Salvador, a painted mare.
"Prepare the provisions; how many, any children?." Sheba's long dress rumpled in the wind and she savored the breeze running up her legs and cooling the warm space between her thighs.

"Gertty dice que vinienen en coches."
"Coches?" Gas run metal hadn't pumped in Marfa for over thirty years. Sheba had heard Exon took over the Houston area while allowing the NRA and Spectrum to maintain their hold over the majority of the south. With the collapse of currency after the fall of the central government all commerce had moved into the barter system, and pure capitalism had flourished, which finally eliminated the middle class. The population choose between toiling in factories or trade posts for their allowance at the company store, forced to buy the exact same products and synthesized foodstuffs that they laboured to create. Or, like Sheba, they could leave the comfort of the corporate holdings and retreat into the outskirts of the country, where even corporate consensus didn't reach.

"Cariño tenias razón, deberias sentirte bien, no?" Jefe was leading Flaven, Sheba's white stallion. As she tucked her skirts under her tight ass and mounted the horse's back he continued, "It's time to see what's become of the rest of the world."
"This is just further proof that la pared is key." Sheba pulled the horse around and they headed out to the east pasture.

"Vamos a necesitar mucho mas que una pinche pared pa que no entre esa multitud." Jefe's voice was like the rattling of nails in a can.
"Let the world come." She clicked her tongue and Flaven's white, equine legs leapt into action, kicking dust into the blocks of art. They wouldn't make it in time to witness the clash with the motorized raiders, but Gertty would keep one alive for questioning.

*

"Where are your from?" Sheba knelt and handed the dusty boy a jar of water which he gulped down before responding.

"What kind of barbaric corporation is this? You have broken over seventeen bylaws of the corporate consensus." The boy's tone turned him into a pretentiously unattractive man, and Sheba was forced to slap him across the face to ease her nerves, which shocked the stranger to no end. Between gasps for air he continued, "We're a... we were a surveillance party... we were... we came here peacefully to discuss possible trade, and... and... you have made a huge mistake here."

"These big guns strapped to your hoods don't scream peace to me." Sheba stood and took the damp, clean towel Gertty handed her, wiping the man's filth from her calloused palms.

"Died quick and easy." Gertty nodded toward the pile of twelve dead men outside the parameter. They would be stripped and laid out for the vultures to feast on. "Gas tanks full of pure unleaded, and a bunch of weird ass food in their packs." At the mention of fuel, all activity on the adobe wall ceased. Dark faces turned to see how Sheba would react. Gertty held up a plastic bag that crickled and cracked as she passed it to Jefe.

"Now what would a boy with a tank full of butane and a belly full of... styyy-reeene" He had difficulty reading the word from the food label, "be doing all the way out here?" Jefe glared down as the man puffed up in response.
"A little birdy told my boss that you folks have some meat down here. Real... live... meat." The boys nose flared at the memory of cooked flesh; something he and the majority of the dwindling population had not experienced in over twenty years.