[M e w]

It was pretty pointless to try and ask these people about what had happened while their town was occupied. Shaun would knock on their doors but nobody would answer, it was like a ghost town.
He sighed as yet another door stayed closed, the residents locked inside.
He glanced around the rest of the dusty town and saw a bar. He almost grinned. He wasn't going to be able to get any information knocking on doors, so he might as well go see if anyone was at the local drinking hall, as well as relax a bit himself.
He walked towards the building, it seemed to be in better shape than the residential houses.

He strode into the building, not looking at the starving people who looked at him with suspicious, glazed over eyes. He sat down on the nearest bar-stool and ordered a scotch. The bartender quickly poured him a drink without really looking at him, more so at the gun strapped to his back...
Shaun knew he couldn't trust these people, they were desperate and starving. Those kinds of people were capable of just about anything.
He leaned his head back and tipped the burning liquid down his throat. It had been a while since he'd had a drink actually, and he shook his head as he felt the burn sizzle in his throat. Immediately he asked for another one.

"So... can you tell me about those raiders?" he asked warily, figuring he wouldn't get an answer even if he tried.
The bartender poured him another scotch and licked his cracked lips.
"They're dead now ain't they? Another group will just move in about a month from now," he said matter-of-fact.
Shaun glared down into the brown liquid in the shotglass. He knew the man was right, even when a group of soldiers moved in and got rid of the raiders, another group would eventually take the town captive again.
It was a constant cycle, death plaguing everyone's door. He kicked back the second glass and said nothing.