3 hours later, about halfway to Chicago, they saw what looked like a dust devil in the distance.

"Shit!"

The Gunrunner slowed to a halt.

As any experienced traveler of the metal desert would know, any major movement of wind was likely to contain the Scourge. It was still better than when the Scourge was so common that simply venturing out of the cities could infect you, but it forced travelers to be extremely cautious when dealing with such natural phenomenon.

"Why. Did we stop?"

A small voice asked from behind him. Thanks to the water, she seemed to be able to speak again, but she still talked as though her own throat was unfamiliar to her.

"Can you see that dark thing over there?"

The girl chose to nod vigorously instead of opening her mouth.

"Well, that's full of the Scourge. Which means we should avoid it."

"What's the. Scourge?"

The Gunrunner froze. He hadn't expected her to be educated, but to not have been told about the Scourge- that was simply insanity.

As he pulled the motorcycle off the road in order to go around the storm, he gave her a history lesson. About how the world had been ravaged by the rampaging nanomachines known as the Scourge, and what happened after. He purposefully didn't tell her what it was like before the outbreak. It was better that way- the Old World was long gone. Dead. Buried. No amount of hoping and stories would bring it back.

The dust storm was closer now, approaching at a rapid rate. More rapidly than he had anticipated.

"Shieeet."

Typically, dust storms had a radius of around 100 meters. This was much larger than the dust devils of the Old World, mostly due to the increased amount of dust and dirt available for the storm to draw on. This one was a whopper- it seemed to be a 120-meter, which would make it the second-biggest one the Gunrunner had ever seen.

At this point, he doubted he could simply dodge around it- the storm was approaching too quickly, and he didn't want to be caught out in the open. Instead, he began unloading the tarp.

The tarp, although much like an ordinary tarp in appearance, was special. The Gunrunner had initially purchased it from a street vendor in Florida, and over the years he had modified it to be able to keep the Scourge out. He coated it with a liquid epoxy solution for protection, then covered it with another layer of tarp for durability. The result was bulky, heavy and hard to use, but it would keep most things out- unfortunately, it also kept out oxygen, which meant the Gunrunner had been forced to cut a hole in the tarp and install a filter, which clogged often and was extremely unreliable, especially for the purpose he had meant the tarp for. But he had no other option- staying in an airtight tent with no ventilation was simply a way to commit suicide.

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He finished setting up the poles, and ushered the girl inside. After they had both crawled in the small, cramped tent, he closed the opening with an airtight zipper.

The tent was more of a rigid balloon than an actual tent. He had found the plastic frame in a yard sale in Michigan- the owner had absolutely no use for it, and had been more than happy to get a few bucks in exchange for it. The frame made sure that occupants weren't hurt as badly if the tent happened to get tossed around- which was often- and now, the Gunrunner was grateful for it.

The storm drew closer and closer, its sound heralding its presence. And then it arrived.

With a noise like thousands of tiny fists pummeling the tarp, the tent entered the radius of the dust devil. It was tossed about, jolted from side to side, and once even flipped upside down, but the Gunrunner wasn't too worried. Judging from its speed, the storm would pass in an hour at most. Next to him, the girl cried and whimpered, clearly scared. He didn't know what to do. He had never been very good with kids. After contemplating what to do, he reached out and grasped her hand. Her head whipped around, her frightened eyes meeting his cool, calm, assured ones. Soon she stopped jumping every time something large hit the tent, and the two listened to the cacophony in silence.

And then, it was over.

The Gunrunner waited a full 15 minutes to make sure the storm had passed, put on a gas mask and poked his head outside the tent. The storm was a mass in the distance, rapidly dwindling, and even as he watched it grew smaller and smaller until all that was left was a wisp of brown.

The motorcycle had managed to come through unscathed, for which the Gunrunner was grateful for- it was his second most prized possession, and replacing it would not be cheap. He noted a couple of dings and dents on the sides- he would find a mechanic to straighten them out later. For now, he would get to Chicago. After wiping the dust off the bike, he called the girl.

"Hey, come out. We're leaving."

She crawled out of the tent, and stretched. The girl watched the Gunrunner closely as he removed the frame and packed up the tent, and then clambered on top of the pile to her seat.

After one last examination, the Gunrunner took off his gas mask, hung it from the handlebars, and turned the ignition.

----------------------------------------

The man watched the motorcycle drive off into the distance. He had been tailing the duo ever since they left Detroit. He did not question why his employer wanted him to follow them. He was paid, and paid richly- for that price, he would follow them to the ends of the world if they forced him to. The man had watched the storm approach from a safe distance, and had watched the Gunrunner's method of weathering it out. He admired the man- it was too bad the Gunrunner would die once he caught up to them.

The man pulled the binoculars from his face, pulled the sand-colored plastic sheet off his body, and hopped on his bike.

He was fond of it- it was sturdy, without an engine to malfunction. It was quiet, and reasonably fast. In short, the perfect vehicle for tailing someone.

He was not in much of a hurry. Judging from the direction they were going, they were trying to reach Chicago. Whatever business the Gunrunner had there would take at least a day- he would reach the city before the Gunrunner left.

The Stalker was on the hunt.