Croaker
4th of July, 2010, 07:46
The Two-Twenty -- so-called from ruined signage found all around it -- is an ancient elevated highway running north-south. Hatchet City is about a two hour walk from the highway; a few hundred miles to the north is the Junkyard, and further beyond no one has ever been.
It's big, it's wide, and it's mysteriously empty. You'd think there'd be wrecks everywhere. Only the biggest motorized gangs travel the Two-Twenty with any frequency -- big, menacing raiders in terrifying armor often prowl the road, slaughtering travelers and disappearing down the road, leaving the remains, loot and all, to rot. No one knows where those fuckers come from, only that they ride wicked hogs and carry spiked chains and big guns.
If a motor gang is big enough, one of the services they can provide is escort up and down the Two-Twenty. The raiders never attack well-armed and armored groups of more than about ten people. They go for the easier targets.
Underneath the Two-Twenty are dozens of small communities -- everything from scavenger colonies to gang hideouts.
It's big, it's wide, and it's mysteriously empty. You'd think there'd be wrecks everywhere. Only the biggest motorized gangs travel the Two-Twenty with any frequency -- big, menacing raiders in terrifying armor often prowl the road, slaughtering travelers and disappearing down the road, leaving the remains, loot and all, to rot. No one knows where those fuckers come from, only that they ride wicked hogs and carry spiked chains and big guns.
If a motor gang is big enough, one of the services they can provide is escort up and down the Two-Twenty. The raiders never attack well-armed and armored groups of more than about ten people. They go for the easier targets.
Underneath the Two-Twenty are dozens of small communities -- everything from scavenger colonies to gang hideouts.