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Prologue

T he smashing of the hammer against the wooden cross is loud amidst the crowd of gathered warriors. People have come from all four corners of The Wastes for the funeral.

Berserkers.

Seekers.

Worshippers.

Scavs.

Roadies.

Paradise.

Lost…

All in one place, all brought here by one person.

No one talks, their heads bowed in reverence and respect. Arms remain crossed before them as warriors chant and sing the songs of goodbye to honour the dead.

Five men stand apart, their eyes sad and bodies hard. War wounds cover them, healing but still there. They bear fresh scars, both emotionally and physically.

Smash.

The swing of the hammer comes again as the cross is forced into the ground, a perfect place to be laid to rest. Here in the sands, under the sun, and below the tree carved with markings.

Finally at peace, after all the battles and uncertainty.

The body is lowered into the ground, the dirt and sand clouding as it’s thrown back atop it.

The end…

A goodbye.