Did you stop to think about why they’re all here in the first place? It has to be territorial, right? A push out from Cyanide, maybe?” I grimace at that thought. Cyanide City is the closest city to us, about a week south—called Cyanide because it’s damn suicide to go there. After the strikes settled down, it became a war zone, with every gang around trying to claim their corner, and every stupid asshole who managed to get his hands on a gun trying to loot supplies.
