» Sat Oct 30, 2010 6:27 pm Chapter One
Drake stared blankly at the ceiling of his make-shift shelter. He decided he would have to start another driveling morning of weary hunting. He went through this general routine every morning, always probing himself of the fact, “you can't just sit around and do nothing in the Capital Wasteland and expect to be okay”. He steadied himself into a sitting position adjacent to his hunting rifle that was pitched alongside a wall, in which was a base of a small bridge.
Drake stood, and reached for his hunting rifle. He was lean, fit and had short, messy black hair which clashed with his Caucasian skin and brownish-greenish eyes. He wore durable combat armor, that he had scavenged off a corpse during one of his many tiring hunts. It had a strange insignia printed on the chest plate, something similar to a claw or talon. Other than the armor, the body had been picked clean of weapons and caps.
Drake fastened his grip on his hunting rifle, after all it was his life. Without this tool of survival, Drake couldn't hunt, sell the hides and meats of his kills to the caravans or even defend himself from his own prey. He had even been thinking about naming it for awhile, however hadn't encountered a desired title yet. He shuffled towards the exit of his hut and anxiously inspected the Super Duper Mart as he retired from the shelter. The mart had miraculously survived over the difficult years, however it didn't make it unscathed. The building was surrounded by small piles of rubble and the parking lot had recieved cracks and extensive potholes.
Conveniently, the store resided directly in the path to his favorite hunting grounds. He often found he was capable of effortlessly evading the raiders that inhabited the store. However on certain occasions, there were perceptive sentries in the perimeter of the mart. Today was one of those occasions. However dangerous it was, he knew he had to try to get past them. He inched forward, out of sight in till he reached a ravaged bus. His heels following one another.
He stalked his own shadow until arrived at the opposite side of the bus. He peered outwards, spying upon a duo of raiders. From here they looked venomous, yet somehow confident. Drake also knew they were incapable of mercy in the slightest form, and he intended to show them none similarly.
Normally he would have tried to evade them, but one of the raiders seemed to be wielding a hunting rifle. His own rifle had gone awhile without being repaired. He had to take a chance, it was time to attack.
He peered down the sights, aiming directly at the head of the raider clutching the hunting rifle. The other raider was less of a threat, wielding a pipe iron. Drake itched his finger against the trigger, and finally grasped the trigger down. The 32. sliced through the air, finally colliding with the eye socket of the of the male raider holding the hunting rifle. He collapsed, his mo-hawk attacking the ground in a humorous way.
The other raider was already sliding behind a pillar before Drake was even finished grinning. She had no mean of any range attack. She made a pitiful attempt to injure Drake, throwing her pipe iron towards the bus, making about half the distance before pathetically landing on the ground and harmlessly skiding in the soil. She looked terrified, she now knew the hour of her own death. She popped her head out from base of the durable pillar to attempt to spot her assailant. In a instant, a bullet entered her forehead and exited, insignificantly deflecting off the pillar behind her. She dropped to the ground, while Drake pleaded that the other raiders hadn't heard the heated commotion.
He sprinted towards the downed male raider, he clenched the raider's hunting rifle and scurried behind the Super Duper Mart. He would have to wait until he got back to the hut to repair his rifle after his hunt. After waiting a precautionary period of time he continued his advancement to his hunting grounds.
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