From the journal of an Ark Survivor Ė Year +106
The Wasteland is a dangerous place, I get told that a lot. Itís rife with bandit clans and things the locals call mutants, worse things than bandits out there in the Wasteland...they often say. I donít listen, Iím not paid to listen, in fact Iím not sure why Iím here. I stumbled out of the Ark only a few short days ago, lost and alone Ė nearly ended up being murdered there and then. This guy called Dan saved my life, Dan Hagar and he introduced me to his family and a small outpost in his little neck of the woods, well, theyíre not woods, theyíre valleys but Iím sure you get my drift.
I can see the old beat up gas station with its small community getting safer, it makes me smile. I feel pretty good about being Danís buddy and helping his folks out. Even if it did get me in some serious trouble with a bandit clan called the Ghost clan. They strung me up, took me to their kill room and introduced me to the business end of a knife. Itís ok though, I got better, I have a magic bit of tech in my chest that lets me live on after I go down. Ark tech, pre disaster tech, used to restart the heart.
I remember that knife and I remember what happened after...my defibrillator kicked in and WHAM!
The Ghost clan murderer catches the full force of the shock from the device; he staggers, shakes and goes limp. Dead before he hits the ground.
Iím up and running again, pistol in one hand and revenge in the other. I start off really slow, sneaky and make sure I dispatch the guard on duty with a carefully thrown wingstick. His head comes off with a single slice and I canít help but give a grim smile of satisfaction, thatíll show the bastards.
Sneaking seems to be the way to go, then I get careless, Iím spotted and a Ghost clan guy barrels at me, bouncing across the scenery like a crazy jackrabbit. A few pistol rounds to the face slows him up, he clutches his head and stumbles past me to hit the wall behind. Iím not going to look a gift horse in the mouth, or a dead guy, so I loot him and get on with dealing with the rest of these scumbags. The sound of the pistol and the yell of surprise from the previous bad guy is enough to wake the rest.
Iím armed with nothing except Danís old pistol, a few wingsticks and thatís about it. Itís enough though, because Iím clever. They can use cover, I can use my head. I wait and time my shots, only firing when I have a clear line of sight. The monocular I have, basically a makeshift sight, is enough to help me land a few accurate zings. They react to each shot, in different ways. One of them balks and retreats as the other drops to the floor, snaps off a few panicked gunshots and expires. Heís lucky, because my wingstick goes whistling over his body...
I make my way through the rest, more confident now, even so with each shot and kill. I take a few hits here and there, but itís nothing major and I use cover to protect me when they rain down some more lead. A few get clever and try and flank me, their friends provide covering fire whilst they navigate the large hall, leaping to dodge the wingstick and rolling to come up right in my face. I press the trigger on the pistol and Iím inches away from the angry pale skinned maniac as his eyes go wide.
Blood hits the floor and Iím off again, moving, shooting and killing every damn bandit from here to eventual escape. Then I catch some loot on the floor, thatís going to be worth something. So I backtrack a little and find a few more bits and pieces, loot, bandages and even some old beer bottles. I spot some HE grenades and I canít resist trying one out, it makes a massive bang and turns two of the Ghost clan into a red slimy paste on the walls.
I canít help but smile, you know, death shouldnít be funny like that. But to me it is, because these bastards strung me up, filleted me in a dirty room and they need to pay. The pistol comes in handy again, so do the last few grenades and finally the Ghost clan have been dealt a serious blow. Theyíre not wiped out to a man, because vermin like that donít die so easily.
I give a glance to the bodies on the floor, the blood on the walls and take the zip line out of there. It isnít long before Iím back on the seat of Danís old ATV and roaring back to the Hagar settlement, watching the sandy rock dust blow off the tops of the mesa-like valley either side and seeing the dirt tracks below the AVT as it thunders through familiar territory. Danís pleased I was able to deal with the Ghosts so efficiently and he offers me some kind of reward. Iíll take anything I can get.
An ATV isnít much good though, and Dan needs more favours. Itís always the way out here, or thatís what Iím told. If the bandits donít get you, mutants do, and if they donít get you...well...thereís always the Authority. No one likes to talk about them much, not really, they always give me a sidelong glance and change the subject...or at least thatís what it feels like. So anyways, Danís favour is to go see some locals who live just up the way from the Hagar settlement. Dan needs some supplies and so on...he also tells me they were attacked, so those supplies are needed for anyone who got injured.