Way Out There

“We need you to obtain an item for us.”

A rugged bounty hunter leans back in his chair, spinning a rusted and damaged coin between his fingers. He watches the uninvited men cautiously in an attempt to read their intentions. He had only popped into the shabby bar for a quick drink when he was approached by his current company. Hell, he wasn’t even looking for a new job so soon, yet this just happened to fall right into his lap. “What makes you think I want to?”

One of them laughs, a scrawny fellow with gaunt cheeks and boney arms. “You’re a bounty hunter. You need the money, don’t ya?”

The larger man beside him quickly shuts him up with a single look. “What my friend here means is, we’re offering a job at a good price. How does five hundred sound?”

Five hundred coins? The Hunter's brow raises and he stills his hand, holding the coin between his index and middle fingers. That much coin could get anyone a long way in this life. Might even get him into the New City. “What’s the item?”

The men hand over a crumpled paper with a crude drawing of a necklace and the words, ‘The Dust Lands’ written below it. If this was a joke, he certainly wasn’t laughing. Yet, at their insistence that he completes the contract in only a few weeks, he downs his drink and leaves the bar without further question. He was sure the necklace couldn’t be worth the offered price but he’d gladly take their coin.

The problem, of course, was going to be the Dust Lands.

The Hunter begins his long journey - leaving behind the beauty of the Green Lands, with its overgrown, mossy trees dressed with wooden homes built amongst their branches, steep mountains colored with vibrant plants and clear cascading waterfalls. A land abundant in life and resources, enough produce to feed the children of those who had survived the bombs and chaos of the Old World. The downside was the wildlife - tainted and poisoned by radiation, the game was rendered inedible and their furs unsuitable for harvest as they gradually rotted from the still roaming creatures.

He travels for five days, stocking up along the way and filling several canteens to ensure he doesn't run out. There was nothing in the Dust Lands, an arid place totally devoid of life. The scorching heat of the sun washes one's energy away causing bouts of hallucinations and, eventually, insanity. If not careful, the sands will bury anyone who dares traverse the lands.

The Hunter keeps his mask around his face, bag over his shoulder, and stops at the edge of the Forgotten City. The cracked concrete beneath his feet has already begun to turn into sand, the crumbling wasteland around him rapidly disappearing into the dunes.

The people hiding out in the City have all told him the same thing: “There’s no one - nothing - out there. You’re going to get yourself killed.”

Yet here he was, walking into the Dust Lands on the orders of a man he'd just met on the promise of coin.

There was one rambling old woman that stuck with him - her story of a child that ran into the dunes a few days back. Maybe this child was a key to this missing necklace he was searching for. Maybe they were a thief on the run. Maybe they'd died amongst the sand.

The Hunter wanders for three more days, taking breaks every couple of hours and stopping whenever a storm brews, but the landscape is endless. After two more days, he’ll turn back, is what he tells himself as he knocks sand from the inside of his boots.

To his surprise, only one more day passes when he finds a strange village. It has huts laid out in a circle and several more surrounding those. It’s quiet besides the low howl of the wind. He starts to wonder if people had really lived out here, once upon a time, and if the item was something that was left behind, not stolen.

A few of the huts are empty and damaged while some are full of abandoned objects and handmade furniture. In the fourth hut he searches he sees a figure lying on a cot, clothes dusted with sand and hands dirtied. He steps in and looks around for a moment, searching for a necklace matching the drawing he had been given.

He’s startled by a sudden cough from the person on the cot and he turns to see them moving their tired limbs, arm stretching out as they roll to their back. The Hunter moves forward and grabs the person, pressing a gloved hand to their mouth to stifle their shocked and frightened screams.

“Quiet. I’m only looking for something," he mumbles, waiting for their breathing to calm before he lets go.

His curiosity piques as he looks at them. The smoothness of their features is unlike anything he's ever seen. The world slowly seemed to drift away as they locked eyes, brown boring into their bright honey, like he was being pulled in by an unknowable force. The pace of his heart picks up slightly and yet, he feels calm and almost weightless.

They stare back at him just as memorized. Their hands touch his chest, the contact jarring him from his stupor. His gaze falls from their face and lands on the chain around their neck. Without thinking, he reaches to pull it out from under their clothes. At the end of the chain is a heart-shaped locket, cleaned and polished. Just like the drawing.

The stranger breaks from their own reverie and shoves him back with enough force for him to stumble.

The Hunter holds his hand out carefully, slowly to show he’s not a threat, and takes a small step forward. “I won’t hurt you.” He won’t. “I just need that necklace.”

“Why?” they growl out, stunning eyes now glaring at him in confusion and anxiety. Their voice is weak and dry and he has a thought to offer up one of his canteens. “Those fools sent you after me?”

Yes; he’s found himself running a fool's errand and he should have known they weren’t paying five hundred for a damn locket. He sighs at his realization. “They want you.”

The person cowering before him frowns and slides off the cot, stepping around him. “Please, you can’t take me back.”

The Hunter sighs and nods, pulling his bag off his shoulder as he quickly grabs his bounty when they try to escape past him.

"Just sit down," he groans, pushing them gently onto the cot and handing over a canteen. “Drink up. I have to take you back anyways, you can’t survive out here. Why do you think there’s no one living here?” He thinks for a moment, watching quietly as they twist off the cap. “What's your name?”

“Sylas.” They drink the water greedily, likely without it for some time. When Sylas tries to give it back, the Hunter shakes his head. “I’m not planning on staying here, you know. There’s a place further south that’s untouched.”

He looks up at their words, scratching his bearded chin. “And you’ve seen this place?” he asks, doubt clear in his voice.

Sylas glares and he’s drawn to them once more in a way he never felt before. “No, I haven’t, but I know someone who has.”

Sitting down on the ground across from Sylas, the Hunter quietly considers their predicament. He runs his fingers through his dark curly hair, shaking out the sand trapped between the strands. “Why do those men back in the Green Lands want you?”

They look away at the mention of the men and pull their feet up to the edge of the cot. “They asked me to go into the Dead Zone, but I refused.”

“The Dead Zone?” he asks, sitting up. “It’s covered in radiation. No one can go in without dying. Why the hell would they ask you to do that?”

Sylas seems distraught for a moment, but swallows hard and answers truthfully: “I’m immune to the radiation. There’s some bunker there they wanted me to find, but I got scared and I ran from them.”

The Hunter takes in the story and weighs his own options. He could head back without them with no pay or force them along and collect his reward. Yet, his heart aches thinking of this beautiful and peculiar being, only a few years younger than him, dying alone in this desert or having to be shoved into the Dead Zone. He can’t bring himself to allow that. While he didn’t completely believe in this mythical place in the south, he was intrigued by the idea and wanted to see for himself.

Coming to a decision, he stands and packs up his bag. “Alright, I’ll take you to this ‘untouched’ place.”