#pierce interactions

          “Holy hell, you look like a god damn character out of one of them old table top games,” Pierce laughed loudly as he slowly began walking around the young man, trying to figure him out. He’d seen quite a few bizarre things in the badlands. There had been all sorts of groups with different get ups. Hell, he even had the pleasure of meeting a group of women that dressed in school girl uniforms and were just as vicious as any wild animal. But this one was certainly different. He was alone for starters without much dirt or grime.

     The dead had grown numerous since the start, sprouting up like weeds. Cities fell quickly as pandemonium spread and people went into full panic. Some became victims to violent groups of people and others became said violent groups of people. Pierce had been lucky. He had already been leader of a large biker club which provided ample protection from the dead and the living. They evacuated the cities and stuck to smaller rural areas before eventually coming across a small town overrun with the dead. 

     Not wanting to pass up the opportunity for a safe place to remain, they quickly wipe out the dead and took control. The people were desperate for protection and more than eager to follow Pierce’s rule to feel safe. Walls were built, secured, and withheld quite a few attacks from other groups. It had become a sanctuary for those seeking refuge and a certain death for any who dared to break one of Pierce’s laws. 

     Needing a change of scenery, he took his leave, heading out to scout for any survivors passing through. Riding horseback, he was able to make cover a good bit of ground, only slowing his horse’s speed when he came to a makeshift camp. His hand moved to the butt of his gun as he searched for any signs of activity. 

     The blast from the gun echoed loudly in the forest of dilapidated buildings, birds crying out as they took flight in a dark mass. A loud thud soon followed as the sickly thin figure crumpled forward, collapsing on itself. The owner of the gun, hung precariously out the busted second story window of one of the collapsed buildings, grinning to himself. The setting sun glinted off the corner of his sunglasses as he stowed the gun in his holster. He glanced down, spying the outsider his men had told him about.