John Roberts - Glass Eights

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With every bump in the road, you find yourself more unsure of just where you are headed. This new world was something different. Something off. Not having anywhere to live is the least of your concerns at the moment. The differences between past lives seems meaningless now. The idea of being a drifter doesn't scare you. What does scare you is what you may come across.

Another, particularly large bump in the road causes you to hit your hit on the passenger-side window. The mechanical driver gives you what you interpret a sheepish look as it presses on the gas to go faster. The city approaches ever the more steadily. Night falls upon the wasteland.

You pass a checkpoint just outside the city. Having been cooped up in this oddly shaped vehicle, you relish the thought of stretching your legs. You wonder what you could spend the night doing. And then you hear it. The rhythmic thuds of distant music.

Getting out of the vehicle and thanking the machine for the lift, you make your way on foot to the source of the music. Cracked pavement and dark alleys become the normal sight on your trek. The source becomes more present, the music more defined. You realize it's club of sorts.

Down the stairs and past a set of double doors, you've found your way towards the club. Flashing lights and loud, thumping bass provide comfort you never considered a room full of people would give you. Then it hits you. There seem to be no people. Only machines. The driver wasn't a coincidence. The clash of metal on metal surrounds you. Bodies shimmer and gyrate under the glow of halogen flickers. Rattles form from the unoiled hinges of the machines.

Pain. The lights fade from your vision.

Calories: 385.5
Distance: 3.33mi

Actress - Hazyville

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With a jolt, you are woken. Your eyes burn. You are lying prone in this wasteland. Your brain goes into overdrive, doing a diagnostic of the situation. It takes a moment for your eyes to register their surroundings. Forms eventually take shape into recognizable landmarks on the terrain.

You life yourself off the dry, cracked ground and dust yourself off. Your tattered clothes and lack shoes are the first thing you notice about yourself. Behind you is the pit. You have no recollection of making your way out of it, but you are glad you are no longer left to rot down there.

Looking ahead you see a door to a small, rusted over shack. With a knock at the door, you attempt to gain the attention of anyone who might be present. After a few attempts, you give up and walk back a bit to gain a better of view of where it is you currently are. Small, sheet metal buildings greet your vision. You realize you are in a shantytown of sorts. A dilapidated sign. 'Hazyville'.

Sounds of static surround you. These sounds are unfamiliar. They are loud. Buzzing. High frequency snarls and snaps invade your brain and form new connections within. It is then you notice the monolithic radio towers in the distance. They are unlike anything you have ever seen. They stretch miles upward, with no sign of a top. Could this be what you are hearing? You don't recall being able to hear radio waves, but you wouldn't be surprised.

The shantytown now looks different as well. It looks oddly futuristic, even for what appeared to be such a desolate state of society.

You do a 180 and face opposite the towers. The sight of a large, metallic city comes into view. Lights flash and swing across the sky above the city. Suddenly, with boom, an engine can be heard. A spiked vehicle approaches with great intensity and makes a stop in front of you. The door opens and you get your first sign of possible life. Or do you? Behind the wheel of the vehicle is a machine. It points to you and then points to the seat behind it and then points to the city. It seems to be asking if you want a lift. You think briefly, and accept the machine's offer.

Miles go by. You are on your way towards civilization as you hear the booming thuds draw ever closer.

Calories: 331.4
Distance: 2.56mi