Harpadarpa presents...
The horse came to the stop at a ridge, overlooking the sun rise, and the destruction. The ridge was maybe 30 feet high. High enough that you didn't want to jump down, but not a half-mile away from the base of the ridge sat the town of Clearpoint, which lay half blown to hell, half smouldering ruins. The poor old horse strained under the weight of the three grown men crammed on top of him. The animal let out a sigh of relief as one of the men- unfortunately, the smallest of the three- slid off the saddle, and hobbled away. The horse's owner- thankfully the biggest- slid off after him.
"Bio... You can't. What if--"
"People could be alive in there, Harp. We don't have a choice. We have to see if anybody's left. Either help me, or quit talking." Bio turned his attention to the other man, "Deadwaste, I didn't do a great job on those stitches, and straining your arm could very well pop them right out. Start making a camp up here, and be sure to use your good arm. Nobody's gonna want to sleep down there tonight, and I sure as hell ain't in my right mind to try again on your arm."
Deadwaste took a moment to check the makeshift bandage wrapped around his forearm. Bandage was a generous name for it. It was a torn part of Bio's coat. Blood soaked both the entry and exit of the stab. He was amazed that it went straight through the center of his arm. He expected a bone to be right there, but apparently not. Deadwaste sighed, thought for a moment, then said, "I'd be glad to."
Clearpoint
Something's Gotta Give
Prologue
Bio looked over the scene. From this vantage point, he had an almost bird's eye view of the town. Where might people have lived? Most buildings on the western side of town were reduced to rubble. Some massive explosion happened there. Coulda been the dynamite in the mine's main building. Who knows? As awful as it seemed to him, the odds of people living through such an explosion seemed next to none, and even worse, if they were alive, they were probably asleep in their homes when it all blew up, and there was no way that he and Harp were going to lift chunks of building off 'em, and then fix the wounds that caused.
No, no, they couldn't help anybody in the West. Only people in the east might be helped. People can survive fire, and can get out of the way of a building burning to the ground. Dynamite, and the destruction it caused, on the other hand, was much trickier. As he wheeled his head towards the East, however, his head ached something fierce. Feeling his right eye, Bio confirmed to himself that it was swelling bad, and was going to bruise horribly, if it hadn't already. But now was no time to be thinking about his injury, distracting as it may be. On the east, buildings were still burning. While the explosion on the western side of town definitely impacted the buildings on the east, as many western facing walls were either straight up destroyed, or at the very least, missing chunks, most buildings on the eastern side of town were still standing.
"The East seems like a better place to look. What do you two think?"
"That sounds about right," Harp responded. "Are you okay, Bio?"
Bio hunched over as the headache continued to worsen. He couldn't think through the pain. His ideas faded into the background, as his throbbing eye took over. Harp walked over, patted Bio on the back, and shouted:
"HEY! DID ANYONE MAKE IT?! WE HAVE A DOCTOR! WE CAN HELP!"
They heard back from the East side of town, "Yeah! We made it! Get down here quick! We need help!"
"WHERE ARE YOU?!"
The voice began to call out, trying to direct the doctor towards them. Bio violently shook his head, and slowly began climbing down the ridge, followed closely by Harp, while Deadwaste began digging through Harp's saddlebags, looking for anything useful. With no clouds in the sky, the day was looking like another hot one. Deadwaste thought he'd be used to the desert, after being in Clearpoint so long and whatnot, but he hadn't quite. Sun was gonna hurt today, and he'd have to find something to block it eventually, but first, he had to think of food. How could he start a cooking fire?
Thankfully, Harp was a habitual smoker. Cigars and matches lined one of the pockets on his horse. Now firewood. Deadwaste took another look around, and sized up the bushes and scraps seen around the soon to be campsite. He pulled out his hunting knife, and noticed that blood had stained it.
Uhh... Bison blood? No, when was the last time I've even seen a Bison? No wait, wolf blood. Yeah. Damn wolves.He casually wiped it on his pants, and was cutting the bushes up, when he noticed a figure in the distance. A man sat on the side of the ridge, watching the town burn. His large burgundy hat covered his face, and his featureless brown coat told Deadwaste nothing more of his identity. He seemed too... Casual. Sitting there, his arm resting against a tree, as if this were common.
Deadwaste held his knife tight, and tried to get a better look at the guy. As he navigated the ridge, and began to lower himself, attempting to reach the man's level, it became clear. The man was watching Harp and Bio with some interest. A rusted silver star was clipped on the hat's band. This man sat directly below Deadwaste now. Surveying the ridge, Deadwaste found a path down to him. He had to shimmy across a narrow 6 inch wide path which led to maybe a 4 foot drop down to the guy's level. As he slid his feet across the path, Deadwaste kicked a rock, which fell on the man's hat.
The man spun around lightning quick, and on seeing Deadwaste with his knife, he pulled a black revolver from his coat and fired. A needle of pain in his stomach forced Deadwaste to keel forward, and fall off the path. The man with the burgundy hat leaped out of the way of Deadwaste's falling body. Deadwaste rolled forward, and fell an additional 5 feet right to the ground. Though his vision was blurred, Deadwaste saw the man's face. Oh how he wished he could comprehend the features. He wished he could know the man who was going to kill him. The man leveled his revolver with Deadwaste's head. Then, barely paying attention anymore, Deadwaste could almost see him go pale, before he turned and sprinted away. Deadwaste dropped his knife, and with both hands, gripped his new wound, only to find his arm bleeding once more. When he thought about it, Deadwaste also felt pain throughout his back, which he realized he must've landed on in that little tumble he took.
Suddenly, a giant and a man with a black eye were standing over him. They shouted back and forth at each other, but Deadwaste could only hardly hear them, the bullet still ringing in his ear. Within a minute or two, Deadwaste realized it was his friends. Harp was hurriedly climbing back up the ridge to his horse, as Bio moved Deadwaste's hands, and applied pressure to his wounds.
"You're going to be okay, buddy. This isn't too bad. I've treated worse. Just stay with me, okay? What happened? Deadwaste? Talk to me."
"Rusted silver star... He had a rusted star."