It was another dusty day in the barren waste of a town. Redfield, as the locals saw fit to give their own little slice of landfill a name, was always dusty. No matter where you looked it was dusty. If you were going for a walk there was dust. If you were eating breakfast there was dust. If you were taking a shit there was dust. This might have been one of the biggest reasons Jason Rausch wanted to get the hell out of dodge.<br/><br/>Kicking up the accelerator on his chopper, Jason was driving back into town early on Friday morning from his night of rancorous partying on the strip. Vegas was everything he wanted it to be and more; the drugs, the drinking, the overly friendly and money hungry lady friends. That's what I thought was out here, Jason mused to himself as he turned into Redfield's town line, but all that damn man left me was a shack with a cot in it.<br/><br/>The sun was just coming over the mountains turning the gray sand to blood all around him as his engine made its last roar before cutting out. The ramshackle mechanics shop looked like it hadn't been properly taken care of in years. It was a squat two story building that was the color of bird shit and piss stains with the red dust clinging to the west wall. Jason thought it made the building look as if it had a bloody sore that had long since coagulated in the setting sun's overwhelming heat. The door leading to the upstairs apartment screamed in refusal as its hinges grinded open leaving the dismal stairwell staring at him.<br/><br/>"I can't wwait to get the fuck out of here!" Jason's voice echoed back to him further soaking his frustration into his being. Leaning against the doorframe Jason lit a cigarette and reminisced on the offer he was given a week ago, not too mention the added perks he was offered the past few nights while on the strip.<br/><br/>The Outlaws were a motorcycle club hailing from Northern California dealing in a nice variety of illegal activities and they recently offered Jason a job at their mechanic's shop and club headquarters. Jason still couldn't believe his luck. Three riders came  through Redfield on their way to Vegas to shack up for the night and a man named Devro Mason swung by the shop to get a tune up. He had no idea that Devro was one of the elders of his club. They struck up conversation and one thing led to another. The next thing Jason knew he was in Vegas partying with some of the richest people he had ever met. The MC elder was going to be in Vegas for "business" for the next two weeks, so that gave Jason a week and a half to find a buyer for his shit shop. He would be happy with a thousand dollars in truth, and if he couldn't sell it he would burn it down for laughs.<br/><br/>The rest of his morning consisted of a three hour nap, bisquick pancakes, a cold shower, and half a pack of cigarettes, all in all it was pretty usual. The news was still going on about some illness that was probably just the flu. Jason laughed at the medias attempt to glorify the common cold. What did they think was going to happen? It's not like the dead were going to start coming back to life or some shit. Once eleven rolled around Jason threw on his boots and was out the door.<br/><br/>The De Santa auto body shop was in far better condition than Jason's run down crab shack of a business and he hoped that the brothers would take it off his hands for dirt cheap. The De Santa brothers had been his main competitors and were running him into the ground, but Jason hoped the fact that his shop was more designed for motorcycles would sway them into considering. The bell rang as he entered their shop and their front desk guy looked at him strangely. "Aren't you the biker boy from up the road?" His voice held an edge of suspicion.<br/><br/>Jason sighed. The De Santa brothers were nice enough guys, but he was still a competitor. "Yup, though hopefully I won't be up the road much longer."<br/><br/>The kid squinted his eyes in uncertainty. "Finally getting out huh? So why are you here?"<br/><br/>"Business." Jason was growing impatient. "Now be a good secretary and go fetch your boss."<br/><br/>Jason could see a flush of red creep up the kid's neck. "You better watch your mouth around here…"<br/><br/>"Or what?" He wasn't tall, but Jason was a big man. Taking a step toward the desk his eyes took on a h hint of his father's crazy look. "Go get your boss."<br/><br/>Without a word the desk worker slinked away. Jason wondered if that might have hurt his chances for selling, but at the same time he didn't care. He was running out of patience with this town and was damn near setting half of this dusty place on fire. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that though. Jason just wanted to start a life somewhere more lively. That meant leaving this place to its dust and canyons.