I sat inside my modified home. Perfectly protected against the elements. The heat had never bothered me, and if it did, I could always shed my shirt. I looked over at my workbenches, my make-shift forge, and my weapons wall. I had so many blasters. I guess I could search the city for other outlaws. Set up a black market. I'm sure other people would be as longing for defense against the system as I am. After all, those living in the city were at much bigger of danger of being dusted than I was in. I pulled my brown bandanna from my pocket, but then I fell over, my hands scrambling around aimlessly. Pain. Mother fucking pain. So much pain. Damn it. The wave ended, and I walked out of my house, bandanna over my face, cape on, eyes darting over the desert. I was armed with the normal things; a pack full of scrap metal, busted radio pieces, and a few half-finished projects. Two combat belts crossed in an X over my chest, attached to a normal belt at my waist. One was various types of grenades; stun, normal, mustard gas, etc. One with various types of batteries for my guns. The other, the waist belt, had multiple rayguns. A black, Brown, red, and dark yellow towards the front. In the back was an orange and green one. They accompanied a combat knife. In both of my shoes were two smaller knives, and hidden in my sleeve was a high tech tazer. I walked towards the City, setting the alarms on my house with a remote in my pocket.
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