Every North man or woman was strong by nature, they had to be. In the North, to be weak, was to be dead. There were many tribes in the North, and they were typically twenty five people large. There were usually five men, fifteen women, children, and of course, the strongest man was the leader.

            Drake Seerow was a North man, and an excellent example of one at that. He was a tall, six foot, white, broad-shouldered, two hundred and twenty pound man, with brown hair and hazel eyes. He had a beard and somewhat of a dirty facial appearance. He had only recently cut off his beard; actually, he cut it as soon as he was brought to Salvation. Drake was about average build for his height, and well-toned. Beads of sweat dripped from Drake’s brow, onto his stationary bike, and then from there, it dripped onto the floor. He had been pedaling the stationary bike for about nine hours now, of course he had a meal break and two rest periods. Actually he was into one hour of overtime, the change of shift already occurred. That was okay though, Drake had only been at Salvation for six days, but he really enjoyed his job. He was an electricity developer, one of thousands who spent their days riding a stationary bike in order to keep the city’s power up and running.

            “Hey Drake! That’s my bike!” It was a guy from the new shift. His name was Adam Wellington.

            “You know you don’t mind.” said Drake as he hopped off of the bike and turned it over to Adam.

            “You’re right. I don’t” Adam was a black man of about five foot ten. He was athletic and thin, definitely not as defined as Drake. Drake had never seen a black man before he was brought to Salvation; however, skin color was really the only difference between Adam and him. They both had a sense of humor, and were likeable.