Day One
This place was nothing like the movies. The old Westerns that Randall had watched with his dad growing up were so far off-base it was to the point of either laughter or tears. The only thing close to capturing the boastful desperation of this place was an old John Wayne movie he remembered called True Grit. The wide-open spaces almost immediately began closing in. The enveloping isolation of the surrounding territory attacked him. The nothingness gnawed at him. The technologically inept reality attempted to suffocate him. The environment was as foreign and toxic to Randall as if he had just landed on Mars, and not been hurled back 200 years into the Wild West by the Time Judiciary.
It was just his luck to be the guinea pig. The canary in the coal mine that had the distinct honor of being the first convicted felon to avoid the disintegration room in favor of this new method of what the mad scientists dubbed "atonement isolation." If Randall could survive one hundred days in this bizarre, backwards wasteland, the promise was that he would gain his freedom and someone would come to take him home. He didn't believe they would ever make good on that promise because he believed they figured he would perish on day one. "Be in this same spot when we come back," they had told him. He shrugged and wondered where else would he be?
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