The Kingdom of Heaven

The war had ended six years before his birth.

The world it left behind was a colorless place of sporadic electricity. The government was a distant shell, a thin mask for a rotting face. Any reference to democracy was lip service. They still held joke elections. Nobody cared.

People lived in huddled little towns that ruled themselves. Most were securely rooted in a post-war brand of Christianity. There were strange new laws. Each township was its own dangerous game, but necessities like cash, food, and medical attention were often unavailable anywhere else.

He lived a double life. Like many others, he would travel from place to place, living in towns, saving up cash and supplies, then fleeing out into the wilderness until necessity drove him back into the maw of society again.

You either followed the local laws of behavior, or you left.

Quietly.

In the dead of night.

And you drove fast.

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