2012 12 13 1

Thu Dec 13 2072

'Camp Panhandle', Far East Warrens: Two dozen urban camouflaged pup tents, razor wire, paid off gang bangers, a batterd store front church deep in some ghoul-ish territory.
In a back room lit only by the glow of a trideo Caleb jacks into the trix via satellite. The diggers around him moving broken concrete, the occasional patrol, the food line goes unnoticed. There is only the Denver grid expanding forever.
Caleb launches his encrypted data system. A new message from noteworthy decker The Black Cat. Caleb has a job for the famously secretive runner. In the meat space, Caleb smiles.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License