Category : Books-Fiction

Sub Category : Science Fiction

Ash always falls here. Nobody knows why or how but it always falls like snow. Thats why it was named Ashtown, one of the last social hubs standing in the wastes. Well one of the only ones not filled with thiefs and killers. The entire town is surrounded by eight foot high walls covered with razor wire, all leading to a large singular metal gate guarded by men wearing dirty black jumsuits covered with strapped on leather armour, each brandishing makeshift crossbows. Weapons are a rare comodity these days, with a box of bullets being the coin of the land, along with mediciene and water. The very weapon I carry myself, an old colt python with tally mark engravings down the barrel was obtained after a rather difficult encounter with a crazed soul, wandering around a burnt wood, whispering to himself about somebody called Delilah. After noticing me he proceeded to fire off three rounds near where I stood, still whispering to himself "Delilah, where is she...where is she". He had used all off his bullets attempting to scare me off. I had to cut him down, a quick swipe at the mans throat with my chinese war sword and it was over. This world isnt for lost souls. 
I had been permitted entry into the town, the guards eyes following me as I walked along the ash covered stone path, no doubt they know who I am. The footpath lead over to a guard post, which was nothing more than a small barricade with a few chairs and a coffee table behind it. A large man, dressed similarly to the other guards, but this ones face was covered by a filthy ballaclava, raised from his seat and grabbed a large battleaxe propped up against his chair and approached me. 
"Whats your buisness here Nomad?" He spoke in a rough yet calm voice, "Supplies, maybe a room for the night" I said as his eyes looked me up and down, clocking my pistol and sword, "just dont cause no trouble, hate having to deal with your kind, always looking to stir things up because you're bored". After he finished speaking he waved me through and took back his seat. Not many people accepted Nomads, we were seen as some kind of chaos loving freaks. Most of us arent, most of us just cant call anywhere home. However, there are some who are. There are some who find pleasure in the chaos they create, giving the rest of us a bad reputation. 
I had reached the center of the town by now. A small statue of a man long forgotten stood in the middle of the town, acting as a center marker, around it there were small houses and handbuilt shacks, all of which were a dirty black colour due to the constant falling ash, there were a few more shacks that were being used as market stalls and even a large stone building serving as some kind of command centre. My plan was to purchase some supplies and seeing about any jobs or bounties, my currencies were low. I was about to make my way into the command building when I caught a figure standing to my left, staring right towards me, silent. The figure was wearing a long robe with a hood covering their face, at their hip was a set of dull looking knives and in their hand some kind of duel-blade staff. I could see no other features and still the figure remained silent. "They really dont take well to us travellers do they" said the figure, whilst smiling and showing two rows of sharpened teeth. As soon as I saw the teeth the realisation kicked in. It was another Nomad.