Led by a man known only as Chill Bill, a self-proclaimed philosopher of laziness (though he preferred the term stoicism), they were less a faction and more a loosely gathered collection of people who just… didn’t care enough to try. 

They scavenged, but only when necessary. They traded, but never for anything heavy or useful. They refused to fight, not out of pacifism, but because it just seemed like “alot”. If danger came knocking, they’d hope it wandered off.  But the wasteland doesn’t tolerate passengers. It doesn’t wait for people to get their shit together. It moves, it takes, and it devours.  No one knows exactly how the Slackers met their end. Some say they simply laid down one night and never got back up.