A scavenger sweated profusely while three suns blasted the nearby desert. So far today he remained empty handed after breaking and entering the last few shops of a western ghost town. He struggled on the outskirts to climb a sand dune flowing over a privacy fence. Here Jed gazed into a gated residential area with some of the fanciest homes he had ever set eyes on.

“Ah this is the perfect place to loot,” he cried.

Unfortunately the good fortune did not last. In a fit of too much excitement he became distracted, and tumbled down the orange sand to a lawn smothered over by shifting soils. A supersized sandcastle resembling the capital city broke his tumble. He was dredged out by gravity as the dune fell like a wave. The soil collapse completed in the background eating up a cactus in the dust while he rolled. The lucky stars were spinning overhead while Jed slumped onto a pillow of a flattened tower

A little later he climbed to his feet with the help of a nearby rake, and bucket. He coughed strands of sand in the direction of a full sized four car garage. He studied the rows of once identical looking buildings made unique by the level of wear and tear worn in by inclination weather. A road of flooded orange led to the end of the block that had been taken away by a tornado. There was no wind now, and what remained standing of suburbia was dead quiet.

The first dwelling he stood in the dooryard of provided a good picture of what the neighborhood had once been. The four garage doors were painted with numbers, and prizes were sure to be waiting to be revealed. Jed chose door number 1, and groaned trying to pick it up. The garage was locked up tighter than a bank after-hours. They whole place was, including a front door that was locked and reinforced like a vault.

“Rats,” Jed mumbled to himself.

He struggled over a medium rock-wall, and landed beside a dried out pool. The furniture had been eaten by the environment, and the pool house had collapsed under its own weight. Millions of strands had pilled along the back of the big house covering the widows, and most of the backdoor. Jed limped along the ground as it gradually inclined. It was hard to climb when the unstable ground was constantly shifting underfoot. Eventually he went mountain goat mode, and grabbed hold of the trim. He pulled himself parallel to the wall, and breathed heavily.

A moment of rest was successfully completed. Jed groaned, and strained to climb wood shingling. His flailing legs sheared off the tops of the extremely sun bleached cedar siding, sticking his soles with staples in the process of climbing. His arm had grabbed hold of a tiny windowsill above and that anchored everything. Jed dangled desperately grasping for something better to hang onto.

Jed caught hold of the plywood screwed over the screen. The piece was anchored by large screws sticking out of all four corners. It began to groan under the weight, and started swaying. He fully lifted himself above the boards with a concentrated effort. A third floor window was directly overhead, and uncovered. He reached up, and ripped a hole big enough for two fingers to cram into. His muscles strained to haul his body onto the ledge too small to properly hold it.

“Grrrrr” he cried, sticking his head directly through the screen.

One of his hands followed while the other remained anchoring. This window was locked, but it pried open with a little elbow grease. This port was round and stylized just like a seafaring vessel. He barely slithered his body through it. At one point he had almost given up hope, but persisted wiggling after a break in the action.

Jed tumbled inside like a pair of dice, and withered in agony at coming into contact with something moist. He jerked away and his eyes adjusted enough to make out a towel that smelled funky. The place was dark, hotter than concentrated ghost pepper, and smelled like raw sewage. Additionally it was humid enough to gag a hippopotamus. He panicked trying to get off the slimy floor, but kept slipping back down.

Finally after struggling like a clown he grabbed an empty towel rack, pulling himself with one arm, and his pants back up with the other. Jed fished his flashlight out of his back pocket, and shined some light on the area.

The looting was going to have to be quick. His light lit a cracked mirror revealing a haggard reflection. He sifted the light to a bathtub full of excrement, and an overflowing toilet. He burst into the next room dry heaving. A hallway full of dressers. The floor creaked like it was possessed. The ceiling was covered in cobwebs, speckles of black mold, and the wallpaper had flaked away from the cracking walls. The air reeked of mothballs,and the smell of dry rot.

The door at the end of the hall screeched open. Revealing an attic full of packages, hanging coats wrapped in plastic, and wires covered in plaster. Jed climbed over stacked trunks, and a half wall to reach a metal door. He pulled out the bar of treated wood acting as a block, and unlocked the bolt.

Light illuminated onto a metal catwalk screwed above a sprawling section of the building. The roof was fitted by metal I-beams, and so were the walls. Jed inched forward testing for signs of weakness. The rusted grates loudly protested as he descended above the dark pit, and the railings had already fallen. Finally he arrived at steep steps resembling a fire escape. The way down was slow going, and had quickly turned into a rickety iron rung ladder.

The flashlight bounced around the garage blurring objects. He could make out the guts of an abandoned project car littering a lift. A big block engine had been pulled out and was hooked to a swinging pulley dangerously close. The light bounced off a pool of oil leaking from a stack of barrels, and a loose pile of disorganized tires.

After climbing further on down he slid the remaining distance to land on the hard concrete. A brand new “Eval” branded welder greeted him. This sturdy human constructed device built to last with a lifetime warranty. With new state of the art crystal rods lasting three times longer without having to reload. Let the sparks fly with two torches of professional quality! Call and order today (using the number displayed on your screen) and receive a golden royal themed welding mask while supplies last. ORDER NOW OR BE SORRY!

“Sweet. Well the only problem is figuring out how to carry it to where I need” sighed the man to himself.

The garage was cluttered with hanging tools, and hazardous objects. He stepped over the extended arm of an industrial jack onto a large square of sheet metal that thudded underfoot. The metal continued acting as a makeshift bridge over pink hydraulic fluid. The path turned directly under where he had been above was a sand sled hung by the pull rope. A dirty shelf was covered in parts including spare train axles.

Several days later everything carried over one piece at a time with the sand sled. Work was slow, but Jed was determined to complete the project on schedule. Today had been welding away all day in the shade, and would be ready to leave tomorrow. The darkness was approaching the valley, tonight he would be burning the midnight oil.

The desert was heating up as the last sun went down. A noisy gaggle of witches flew through the dry air cackling like geese. They escorted an airship with a hanging tow line, and a drop-ship loaded with supplies. The royal wedding between Killin Hood, and Queen Elizabethy the 6th was only a few hours away. The hustle was on to deliver the juice to fuel the celebration, and failure was not an option.

“Hehehe the jungle juice will soon be ours,” cried the boss witch Isabela.

The rest of them giggled on, while a murder of crows joined the fray alongside them. The music blasting from the fancy brooms was traditional evil folk.

“Lets go witches” they cried together, revving their brooms armed with hog tusks that functioned like flying bayonets.

A Halloween like atmosphere engulfed the valley; bats joined the pack, and fog rolled into the ghost town with the hags. Tumbleweeds blew through the western area past a deserted truck. A big rig carrying a prized load of intoxicant was engulfed in green smoke.

A flare of magma light lit the man welding away in the dark. He had successfully fashioned on new wheel-sets, after jacking up the tanker. A new cab was welded on sturdy scrap metal. Jed was almost ready to set sail. He wore only his armored helmet as it offered a visor with built in eye protection.

The dust whipped up a sandstorm, and a naked man ran for cover. The payday was in jeopardy of being seized out from underneath him. Isabela’s beady hawk eyes scanned the valley.

“Hey this ain't a ghost town I see people '' she cackled, raising a wand.

A big blast of fire rained onto the motel Jed had been running towards. He was knocked back as propane tanks exploded. His mind was disoriented, but his revolvers were loaded. The looted bandelier slung across his chest had some ammo in reserve, but not enough to be comfortable. The motel exploded into a mushroom cloud as witches flew bombing runs nearby. Whatever was remaining of the boom town was rapidly exploding around him.

The door of the big rig swung wide open, and Jed climbed behind the wheel on rails. He gave her the gas, and she steamed forward polluting the air. The witches followed in hot pursuit with their cackles amplified over their crystal balls functioning like sirens. The makeshift locomotive had reached max speed, while the airship cast a long shadow over it. With the vehicle being on rails Jed had two hands available to wield revolvers. A witch dodged a bullet while another overtook her. He aimed directly at the hag supervising from the rear.

“Bang,Bang!”

Her massive cap had a hole in it, and she spit out a bullet caught with magic. Isabela aimed her wand, and light shot from her fingers. Jed covered his eyes and was blinded by a powerful flash. The cackling intensified, as the truck began to further shake. All the man could do at this moment was keep the pedal stuck to the floor.