Welcome To the FutureMature

Journal entry 1.
June 3, 3 PW

There is a twisted, unmistakable beauty to the world now. Never in my life have I seen something so horrifically beautiful, something so wondrously scary, something so violently peaceful.

I’ve been out of the shelter for two weeks now. My counter busted as soon as I set foot outside, the poor pin hit 100 so fast that it shattered the glass. I guess I’ll have to get that fixed sometime.

I’ve walked through a few towns but I can’t seem to find the parts I need, and If I don’t find the parts within the next few months I doubt that I will be able to save my family.

I’ve decided to keep this log in the offshot that some creature finds me and kills me, or some bastard who’s looting corpses needs a fresh one. Should anyone come to find this log, and it be on a dead body, please do me a favour. Get medical supplies to what used to be Hockessin Delaware. There is a map under the file name of Home.

I just heard a noise. There must be people around. I’ll ask and see if they can help.

Journal 2
June 6, 3 PW.

So i’ve discovered how to set an injury. More specifically, a broken leg. Those guys I was talking about at the end of my last journal were not very helpful. In fact, as I pleaded them to let me go, they brought out baseball bats. For the sake of my Shelter I fought them off, and killed the guys. There were three of them, and I have to say they had some good things on them. One of them had some medicinal supplies, but it isn’t enough to treat all the members of my family. In example, our shelter was right under one of the drop zones, and opening the door is enough to sear the flesh from your bones.

Perhaps if I could find a few more suits like my own, then the members of my family could escape and we could simply move to a different location.

Journal 8.
June 13, 3 PW

Its been a week since last I wrote about anything useful. I found a reconstructed town, reconstructed as in the people unified together and are trying civilization. We must have moved on from savage animals now.

Journal 9
June 19, 3 PW

I guess we arn’t all trying to be more civilized. While I was talking to the leader of the town (“New Hope” was what they decided to call it) another group of bandits came by to say hi. these ones had more than just baseball bats. These ones came in with pistols and a rifle. I ducked pretty damn fast underneath the mayor’s desk, but the other guy wasn’t nearly as quick. They shot him in the head as he was reaching for a shotgun. Since he didn’t need it anymore, I picked the thing up and shot through the front tire on the jeep they were riding. It flipped through the air, decapitating the rifle bearer and flinging the other two passengers out across the field. One landed on a spike and the other unconscious laying spread-eagle in the dirt.

Mercy is weakness. We cant let guys like this get the better of us, else they’ll come back just to show us up. I stand by what I did.

The rifle was damaged, but I think I can fix it. The pistols I took, and I need to find more ammo for the shotgun.

Journal 10
June 20, 3 PW

The people in town wanted to elect me as their leader, but I didn’t stay with them. As payment I took some of their medical supplies and the jeep I shot up.

I’m getting pretty good at fixing things.

Using some spare parts from things around town I think I can fix up that rifle.

Anyway, I left the town this morning, currently holed up in a strange cave north. I’m figuring I’ll find Philadelphia soon, can’t be far off.

Journal 18
July 2, 3 PW

I finally got to Philadelphia.

Since I lost my Jeep, walking along this highway has been really hard.

I found a guard outpost along the way, and when I stopped in to look, the military personnel seemed very interested in where I got my uniform. A few of their trigger fingers were itchy, and they must have been gunning for some action with how alone they are. When I left I stole some ammunition for the shotgun and rifle. I figure I need it more than they do.

Journal 19.
July 3, 3 PW

1 Month since I started this journal.

I need water.

Journal 20
July 4, 3 PW

I explored Downtown philly today. I wonder if they always looked this broken and slummy. A few stores were broken and destroyed, no doubt due to riots of an age old time.

There were a few locals around, but when anybody saw me they ran for cover. Perhaps those guards came through and terrorized them a bit, but none of the less, It was a lot easier to search for water and consumables without them hassling me.

I am going to keep watch and sleep light tonight, I found an abandoned (I think) apartment up above what might have been a pizza shop.

Journal 21
July 5, 3 PW

No one bothered me last night, which was good. Locals here are still too afraid of me to actually come up and talk to me.

There Is a hospital here, I marked it on the map incase I need to come back, and I believe that If I can get everyone out of the shelter, there are enough supplies and room to board everyone for years.

I’ll get as much as I can to get back home. Perhaps I can barter with those guards for a vehicle

Journal 22
July 15, 3 PW

Perhaps there is no hope for civilization. I talked to those guards and tried to negotiate a way to get some anti-radiation vehicle to go back home. When they refused I stormed in to talk to their captain.

You’d be surprised how little talking a corpse does. They had a mutiny some time back and just shot the poor guy. So when I saw this the guys didn’t think I should leave. Thought I might expose them.

I pride myself in being not only faster on my gun, but a better shot than a group of 5 soldiers. I cleared the base out, there were a total of 12 men at the end of the day.

I grabbed enough ammunition to last me for a life time (maybe a month considering how dangerous it is anymore), when I realized that their guns were different.

The military had developed a rife that utilized the radiation from previously used uranium core cells to charge their bullets. Basically, it’s the first in a generation of laser guns.

This sparked my interest so I went back to the general’s office.

Turns out that the Captain was placing an order right when they shot him. I found blue prints for this strange suit of armor. It was way more advanced than what everyone else had on, and it looked very complex. I took the blue prints off of the desk and dialed the request number. Even though the operator needed a password and I couldn’t talk to a real person, I got from it that the location they were keeping all of their supplies was in New York. They must have changed their military base for West Point into a real Military base. Hopefully it’s a lot more protected and official than the place I’m currently in.

I grabbed my new rifle, some spare parts and loaded up one of the combat vehicles. I found another one of my biohazard suits in a locker in the basement (after I blew a hole through the lock of course) so i’ll probably go home and get everyone out one by one.

Journal 25
July 20, 3 PW

I’m almost back home, I need to stop for the night but I just thought of something.

I don’t have room for everyone.

Journal 21
July 23, 3 PW

I took my girlfriend. She wasn’t my first choice, but she fits the suit like the others don’t. Also, she seems to be a good shot. We loaded her up, gave her a rifle and dropped off a large supply of medical equipment. I showed some of the people how to ration off the tools and told them that we would come back.

We headed out about midday, she seemed very glad to be out of the shelter. We drove for most of the talking about what happened for both of us. Nothing much is going on in the shelter, but the lack of resources and poor facility seems to have taken a toll. We really need to hurry.

We have a new objective: Get to West Point and procurr enough environment suits and transport vehicles to evacuate the Hockessin Shelter.

We’ve stopped at New Hope and are planning on staying the night. The village has found a new leader already and they are most accommodating.

Journal 22
July 24, 3 PW

We have a good supply of water and we left New Hope early, we want to go as fast as possible.

Journal 30
August 3/4, 3 PW

We made it to New York after the bandit attack. We had been fighting for so long I don’t know officially what the date is. I’m pretty sure it is the 4th and I missed the 3rd.

Bandits attacked us from all over after we accidentally drove through their base. Once they saw our truck they just started blazing away. I really didn’t want to, but I found myself testing out that new irradiated rifle. It shoots through metal, and when it hits the flesh, it seems to corrode and burn like flame to paper.

We hit a bump and it sent us into a death spiral. We knocked over several tents and flattened a few bandits before we had to evacuate. On foot we took out another 20 bandits, Kat being an excellent shot when under pressure.

We didn’t get all of the bandits, most of them said they would be coming back as they ran away. I marked off three locations on the map. The one I described here is the one under New York City, the other two are camps I found on maps from inside the camp.

Journal 31
August 5, 3 PW

New York city is gorgeous.

It was walking through time that I felt a bit of gratefulness towards what had happened.

Declaring war on Russia, threatening China. Letting loose the things we knew would devastate the world.

We all knew what would happen, everyone just thought the other was bluffing.

This aftermath. This product of war. This beautiful site before me. The ruined, desolate wasteland that was once New York. I never want to leave.

Back before the war, I never did get one of those “I Love New York” shirts. Those cheesy tourist snipers.

Perhaps If I find one I will put it on.

Of course, Kitty here doesn’t share my enthusaism. Naturally, she wants to leave as soon as possible, where as I never want to escape this paradise.

We have what we need, and what a beautiful site to it.

Some people have the ocean.

Some people have snowcapped mountains.

I’ve got the ruins of New York.

Once we finish the quest, we are coming back here.

Journal 32
August 7, 3 PW

These journals are getting longer and are becoming less… journaly. Its eating up space on my internal computer’s harddrive, so I will try to keep the next ones brief.

We left New York, repaired our car with some parts from abandoned ones along the rode. We’ve been driving for two days now, and I think we are lost. If we pass through another town we are going to have to stop for directions.

I’ve had Kat try and plot on the map where we are, since the GPS in this thing doesn’t work, and I am completely unsure of her abilities as a cartographer. We put a bet for when we actually get our coordinates. If she wins I’ll do full guard duty for a week and vice versa.

I’ll mark where I think we are just for reference.

Journal 33
August 6, 3 PW

Found another town. Kat was pretty off on her estimation.

I get to sleep in tonight.

Journal 34
August 7, 3 PW

This should be the last night until we get to West Point. I can’t help but feel a foreboding doom in this. I hope nothing happens.ournal 33
August 8-14, 3 PW

We got to West Point. It wasn’t too hard to find, it was just on a rock face on the side of the Hudson river.

Despite the dry cracked scenery, the fires from town, and the faded gray sky, the river was beautiful.

Oh, and the place was ransacked by bandits.

I don’t think ransacked was a good word. Perhaps over run. Taken over. Stolen.

This wasn’t a group of bandits from the other set, these were completely new bandits. They were rallied together, armed, and dangerous.

Originally, the base had been a safe haven for townsfolk from around the base. but during that first year after the final bombs had been dropped, fearful scavengers from other places came looking for a home. When they were turned down, told they were too irradiated and dangers, they teamed together. They pillaged a few towns, raided a few army convoys, and armed themselves well enough to try and take on the West Point military base.

The radiation did more than make them dangerous. It enhanced them.

Perhaps it was that they had lived so close to the military base, drank the military’s polluted water, and ate the polluted crops from the military’s farm’s run off, that enable the radiation to affect them so. Perhaps it was just that those individuals were special.
The cause I don’t know.

What I do know is what I saw. They glowed, and their flesh was hard and green. It was as though their skin was some sort of armor.

In any event, when the defenders of West Point tried to fight them off, the mutants proved almost impossible to kill. Guns could barely hurt them, and they can just plow through the barbed wire fences.

Its no wonder there were no survivors here (apart from the mutants that is.)

When we arrived here early this morning, everything seemed pretty quiet. No one doing rounds. No one manning the gate. No one stopping to check our IDs to get on base.

Needless to say we were suspicious, but without this hassle we were pretty cheery about it.

We put our guns away.
Bad move.

The End

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