» Thu Nov 26, 2009 9:05 pm
My name is Zack. My grandfather survived the blast when he was a child. He met my grandmother at the age of 16. They had my Father, who met my mother while searching the town of Glasgow. They had me. And now, here I am. A lone wolf, making his name in a shattered world. For 3 years now, I have been wandering the Wasteland, forever searching. The entire South coast is littered with old ship hulks, waiting to be salvaged. I do just that, selling scrap metal and boat sections to various traers and towns. I have a few Brahmin, and my clothes. I carry a variety of industrial tools, and I also have an outdated SA-80 Rifle. That is all.
I ran past the short buildings, almost completely hidden by Radvine. This particular irradiated species of creeper was rumoured to grow mouths and arms. I am running from a Nae Gar, or a badger as they used to be called. The Nae Gar are sveral feet long, and they have grown to the size of Black Bears. I fired over my shoulder with the rifle, and I heard the wet smacks as my bullets made impact.Slowing down to a jog, I glanced behind me, and watched the creature limp into a small ptach of undergrowth.
I returned to the camp 25 minutes later. I had a few pieces of Grade A steel , and a few sheets of copper. The copper was useful for repairs, and the steel could be sold for close to 100 corks. The cork had been the only hard currency for nearly a century, as no-one who survived knew how to use the currency production lines. I climbed into my tent, made of Brahmin and Radfox skins. I ate a small squirrel stick, from my mothers recipe, then slumped onto my bed. I am pretty sure that I will not be seen, as I made the camp inside a small garage in Portsmouth. Despite my happy meal, my dreams are troubled.