>"So this time you'll be gone for a few months?"
>"Yep." 
>"Out in the wastes?" 
>"Yes mam." 
>the girl behind the supplies desk gives me a nervous look 
>it's understandable, I guess 
>a few months in the desert certainly suck, and for a caravan escort like me, it really sucks 
>but, pay is good, and it isn't all that dangerous 
>for the most part 
>I check over the list again 
>about 500 rounds of .308 has been alotted to me personally and is being loaded into that clapped out BTR  
>along with a sleeping mat and a blanket that might as well be maid out of steel wool 
>fun times  
>I tap the wood of the galil hanging by its strap off my shoulders, resting by my stomache 
>this run might suck 
>"Well, everything looks to be in order." 
>the counter girl gives me a cheery smile 
>"That's good to hear, sir. You stay safe, now." 
>"Will do." 
>"Enjoy your trip, sir."  
>She smiles again and gives a little good bye wave 
>"Yeah, you too." 
>with that, I turn on my heels and walk out the door 
>standing on the porch of the supplier's a breathe in the last breath of air with any humidity I'll take for the next months 
>Yeah, I've decided it 
>this is probably gonna suck 
>walk around back, where the rest of the group is setting up 
>a couple of figures stand around the transport 
>a couple of human escorts toiling around with or showing off gear 
>usual stuff 
>one stands out to me 
>tall, dark, and seemingly covered in a thick matting of that looks like steel wool 
>that's... interesting 
>approach the figure and before I'm even 10ft from its back it turns to me 
>a giant... hood stares at me 
>best way to describe the mountain like peak that is its head 
>and a darkening in the front of the coarse covereing of hair where its face would be suggests an opening 
>"Yes?" 
>a voice seeps out of it, hissing and coarse 
>"What would you be?" 
>the creature pauses before answering 
>"We are Mass." 
>I look it up and down before continuing 
>"Cool name, but that doesn't exactly answer my question." 
>Mass leans their body one way, almost as if to cock its head 
>"We are...." 
>there's a pause 
>"a drifter." 
>I nod my head in response 
>that's neat 
>whatever a drifter is 
>"Well, okay. Nice to meet you, Mass." 
>I hold my hand out to offer a handshake 
>Mass just stares at it 
>after about 30 seconds, the drifter finally speaks again 
>"We do not understand." 
>I look the tall stranger up and down again 
>"Well, it's a hand shake." 
>"Hand shake?" 
>I hold back a sigh 
>"Yeah. You grab my hand and shake it." 
>the drifter takes a second to consider the concept before reaching out its hand slowly 
>the motion seems to draw out for ages so I expedite the process by clasping its hand first and shaking 
>the "skin" of Mass's hand feels like dried out coral, and I have to take care not to rub my palm off on the coarse surface 
>I break the hand shake after a few eternities of gut wrenching cringe 
>Mass just looks at its hand for a moment before letting it fall to its side 
>a low "Interesting..." murmurs out of the rocky hood 
>oh boy 
>I managed to find somebody more autistic than me 
>"And your name?" 
>I takes me a second to realize what he asked before I respond 
>"I'm Anon." 
>"That Anon?" 
>"No, it's just a common name. Most people just call me Utah." 
>the drifter dwells on the new information before continuing 
>"Very well then, Utah. We are honored to meet you." 
>the shawl covered mountain tips its peak at me slightly in a small bow 
>"Like wise, Mass." 
>I give a small tip of my hat 
>I'm not even sure if it can see the gesture