Mark'ed For Death

The Home Front was supposed to be the end. The place where all the violence went silent, where all the monsters disappeared, and where the horrors simply came to an end. He'd been a BEAT COP before the war, thought he was PREPARED FOR THE WORST, but MARK HARRIGAN simply wasn't. He came back with SHELL SHOCK, wanting nothing more than to be in her arms.

SOPHIE.

When he got back to town, she thought it would be an HEROIC RESCUE. But she'd been wrong and he'd been helpless- he fired five rounds from his .45 AUTOMATIC but bullets had simply disappeared. Unlike the damned politics, she had been SOMETHING WORTH FIGHTING FOR. Losing her had been a VICIOUS BLOW. A COUP DE GRACE to whatever had remained of his humanity.

Now she was gone.

He joined up withs some VENTURERS, folks who wanted to do some good in the world. But Mark was only ON THE HUNT. He'd dug into his EMERGENCY CACHE, grabbed up a .34 COLT, and sharpened his MACHETE. He didn't expect to actually "win" out there. He just wanted to do some damage, even if it took a DYNAMITE BLAST or some sort of IMPROVIZED WEAPON; whatever he needed to OVERPOWER them. He was there to hurt those things... whatever they were.