Driving into a small western town. It's got that 'Ghost Town' feel to it. Feels like I've been driving for days. Something in the back of my heads tells me that this is the future, or something. Whatever.
The world came to an end! Civilization collapsed. Yadda-yadda.
So there I am, driving into this small western town. I get out and step into the bar. I want to talk to the guy there. He has information I need.
I find the guy. We talk. It's all hush-hush. There's something I have in the trunk of my car. Something really valuable. We go out and I show him what it is. It's videotapes and newsreels. It's the history of civilization. It's the history of all life as it was. All the joy and suffering, all the truimphs and losses. It's everything that ever was.
He agrees. That is very valuable stuff. He tips me on things. Stay away from the police. Seems after everything went bad, the local sheriff went around and took away all the guns. Then they monopolized the town, became the ruling body by gun and lawlessness.
The bartender told me where to go and what to ask for. I went. It was a shop across the street.
The guy there was very helpful after I told him who sent me, and readily pulled out some stuff for trade for teh information I had brought. I knew it would be difficult to be here and needed to get some guns.
The guy pulled out boxes of guns. They were really old and looked unusable.
Rusted .45 Colts were piled with 1911A1's, next to something that looked like a flintlock pistol. All were in really bad shape. I found a derringer that seemed ok, but put it back.
It was getting late, and I sat down, asking the guy if he any other guns. Ones that might actually work. He nodded and showed me a glass case. Inside were several guns, still in various states of decay. Of the usable ones, there were only a few.
I felt that I should carry a revolver. It would be simple to use and keep, rugged, and useful, even if it had less shots than a modern semi-auto pistol. But there were none to be found. Finally I faound two semi-automatic pistols with light blue handles and asked about those. He said that I could get one. Then I started to look for bullets.
I got sidetracked as the guy loaded up one of the newsreels I had brought and played it on a small, dusty tv.
I wanted to cry, watching the film, though I can't remember what it was.
