Depending on feedback, I may continue writing more, since I have some other ideas as to what else I can do with this main protagonist and how I want to flesh him out more.
January 08, 2077. Mother, called me into the living room today. Beside her was my Auntie and my Grandfather. Mum was crying, as she tried to compose herself she told me my Father has been killed defending Alaska from the Reds. I held her hand but I fought back tears. Maybe they have it wrong perhaps they have the wrong person? And my father is still alive.
January 09, 2077. Haven't eaten anything today. I keep looking at my fathers Army picture.
January 10, 2077. Finally felt like eating today it was hard to swallow. The war in Alaska is over. My Father died two days before the end. But knowing we beat those Reds and my Father played a part is rea.............
"God Dammit! Water has smudged the words" the man said loudly. Slamming the book shut!The spine cracked, and dust filled the air, irritating his eyes. A lone tear drop landed on the tatterd book. Reaching for his bag he begun to unstrap the buckles. Releasing the first buckle from it's incarceration, he proceeded to un fasten the second. The buckle snapped. Causing the contents of the bag to mingle with the rubble covered floor.
Letting out a deep sigh, he slowly lowered himself onto the floor. Checking the area for sharp objects. (He knew all to well that a cut no matter how mild could become infected.) Finally after a few moments he had managed to recover all of his effects. Placing them back in the bag. He stood back up. "Let's not forget the book" he muttered. Enslaving the book in his bag.
Picking the bag up he shock it violently! "Good no rattling." He started to fasten the buckle and knot the two ends of the broken buckle together. Placing his hand in his right pocket, he removed a small metallic object. "AHHHH CRAP! 13:50, 30 minutes of sunlight left."
His movement started to become more brisk! Locating the exit from the room peering out hesitantly. Scanning the long dark corridor, for any signs of life.
He often wondered what these husks of concrete and steel must of looked like in all there grandeur. Reaching the end of the corridor a ghastly Screech! Echoed the tranquil abyss, stopping him dead in his tracks. Feral's!!
His heart raced, his mind planned and his eyes pierced the dark, looking for any signs of motion. Placing his back against the corridor wall he started to move slowly. Suddenly a loud crunch deafened his ears, this sound was of his own doing, a broken Nuka-Cola bottle! Succumbing to his weight.
The screech repeated, only this time it was accompanied by footsteps. The footsteps grow louder and with more pace. "I gotta get out of here" he said. starting to run through these concrete catacombs, glancing behind he saw the source of these horrid noises.
"Dead end" he shouted. Looking around he noticed a door to one side of the corridor, making a run for it he grasped the handle and tried to turn it. In the corner of his eye he could see the Feral closing "Come on open!" Suddenly the door opened. The Feral screeched the door creaked, falling to the floor he watched as the Feral fumbled with the handle. Breathing a sigh of relief he stood back up. "Hahahaha thought you could catch me you dumb bastard"