My name is Harley Davidson McKnight. No cracks about the name. Not that anyone anymore remembers what a Harley Davidson was, but for those that do, shut up.
Now let's see..what about me? I'm a tracker and a guide. They say I'm the best, but I don't think it's false modesty to say that I'm not quite the best. I am good, though. I've never failed a job and I've never failed to get home alive.
I have the skills needed to survive here and to help others survive. I'm a good shot, good with a knife, I know my weapons. I can decipher even the oldest maps and I know all the old legends. I know how to get where I need to go and that's rare skill these days. I've been to and through places that would make a lesser guide keel over dead and I've always managed to get home alive.
Home is a small, dinky ville called "Death's Head". It's about the cleanest and safest ville in a fifty mile radius. Sad but true. I spend all of my free time, which is a lot when I'm not working, at a bar called Charlie's. Charlie is the owner and the closest thing to a father I've ever had. My own parents were killed when I was only 6. I think I survived mostly on luck.
Charlie found me when I was 12 and now I'm 17. Don't let my age fool you though. I can take care of myself. I think I already mentioned skills with weapons, but I can also fight with my hands. Charlie says it used to be called martial arts, but I just call it survival.
Since money isn't used anymore for anything, I usually get paid in weapons, ammo, fuel, food, or, my favorite, favorite thing in the world, books and magazines. Not too many people left in the world can read but I can and I love to. Books are rarer even than fuel, but once in a while I get lucky.
Well, I guess that's about all I can say right now. I have a job guiding a group of people up into the mountains. No one's ever returned from these particular mountains and I certainly hope I'm the first...
