The story of a man wrong by the one whos job it was to protect the people.
About this creation
A small group of survivors march across the metropolitan wasteland.
Old Man: Slow down, Slow down. I’m not as young as I used to be.
Alex: All right. We will rest here.
The Mechanic: Where is here exactly?
Alex: This is what’s left of Times Square. Lets set up a shelter, we can’t stay long though. We have to look out for raiders.
I look through the remains of a building. Noticing an old fedora but, I turn to get back to work.
I lift the rubble out of the way. Creating a small shelter.
I sit down with my rifle and wait…for trouble.
Alex: Where’s gramps?
The old man is talking into a radio.
Old Man: This is Rapture. I will set the beacon…Be here.
Radio: Copy that. Command out, sir.
Alex: Where you been?
Old Man: I was just scavenging around.
There is a loud noise.
Red: What’s that?
The man in the red shirt gets up to go check it out.
Officer: Freeze!
I draw my rifle and place it on his temple.
Officer: I’d drop that.
I hear a rifle click behind my back. I drop the rifle.
Officer: Boys lets get what we came for.
Officer: Mr. President.
At that moment all my body grew with anger. The man whole let this happen to our once beautiful country.
Officer: Sir, what should we do.
President: As much as I have enjoyed your company. We have no need for you in the New World. Kill them.
They fire on the others. And then on me.
I go down, out cold.
Officer: Lets get you to Whiskey Hotel.
6 hours later
I get up. My head burning. I have to get this wound clean before an infection sets in.