The crimson sunlight grew more intense, then suddenly dimmed, as the vast sunset that blanketed half the sky sank beneath the horizon, its ruddy clouds rolling back in retreat, heralding the approach of nightfall.
Black Spotted Lizards emerged from the sand dunes, their vertical pupils reflecting the image of a crooked, crumbling black skyscraper.
Half of the skyscraper was buried in the sand. Its rusted, indistinguishable steel skeleton was welded with scraps of metal. Flickers of firelight shone through the cracked windows, surrounded silently by poplar trees stripped of their bark.
In front of the deserted skyscraper, there was a series of Chinese characters, English words, and Tibetan script written on arrow-shaped wooden signs, alongside a revolver embossed with roses.
Kuang Zhuoma.
The Dodge Tomahawk had traveled a long and weary road to finally arrive here.
