Now that the land had been overrun by gangs and outlaws, it was a lawless wasteland.

One su*cide attempt per day. One failure per day.

John, a fugitive in name but not in purpose, repeated this tiresome routine. Living on the run, not quite running, he found himself in a rundown motel—where he noticed a scrawny kid sitting outside his door.

The boy, Dee, was a strange one—applying toothpaste to bruises and constantly seeking John out. In his own unintentional way, John began looking after the boy, all the while g*ooming him to become a bounty hunter—the one who would eventually lead him to death.

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