LJ Idol - Bringing a Knife to a Gunfight
May, 2286
I’ve been chased by at least three days by the monsters-- the mutants, really. I can hear them screaming in the distance, calling out to me that they’ll kill me, they’ll eat my body. I’ve seen the things that they’ve done to other people as I’ve struggled to live here in what people call the Capital Wasteland. Bodies mutilated, their limbs ripped from sockets and left scattered around on the ground, eaten by absolute abominations of creatures that look like... like... I don’t even know, something from my nightmares. They look like humans, mixed with giant worms, with tentacles on their mouths. They’re like guards for the big, ugly, yellow mutants that actually talk and shoot at me when I get too close.
I don’t even know when I got into their territory, but I know I did. They screamed at me, said I was going to be dead, going to be meat. I ran as fast as I could, dropping guns and other items I really didn’t need to make myself lighter. I wanted to make sure they couldn’t get me. The first night I stayed, but didn’t really sleep, inside a house that didn’t have any furniture. I stayed upstairs, keeping myself in a locked room with my pistol in my hand. Every rustle outside made my jaw clench and sweat start to bead up on my forehead. I ate some food, old cans and preserved dinners from so long ago I’m surprised they didn’t kill me. But it was nice to actually eat food, even if it was just an uncooked can of pork and beans.
I stayed in the room until night fell again. I didn’t want to go out and possibly run into them during the day. At least in the night, I could try to sneak by them if I saw them in the distance. I don’t know how long I had been walking, maybe a couple of hours, when I ran into another group of them. I knew it wasn’t the same ones, they tend to not travel far from their mini encampments they establish. But I crossed into more territory. We traded gunfire and I was shot in the shoulder. I’d never been shot before then, and it’s not really something I intend on going through again, if I can help it.
I lost them in a city that we crossed into-- or, more accurately, what WAS a city-- and I took refuge, again, in a house. This time I managed to get some ammo for my pistol, and I found a rather nice looking rifle to work with, compared to the handgun. I also found some more food, and I found a shirt that I ripped to use as a bandage for my bleeding shoulder. That night, I actually slept. I slept through into the mid-afternoon. I would have slept longer but the food caused my stomach to cramp, and I wound up losing that meal. It was unpleasant, to say the least.
After I finished introducing myself to the bathroom, I heard the mutants again in the distance. There were more of them, I could tell. I heard them yelling at each other, at me, and at absolutely nothing. They yelled for blood, for my meat, and mocked me for hiding inside the building. I looked around to gather my supplies. I didn’t have a lot. I had nothing to protect me from the guns they use other than an old helmet that I wasn’t sure fit me. I had two guns-- the rifle, and my pistol. I had bullets, but only so many.
I went to one of the windows, the glass blown out long ago, and propped the rifle on one of the open spots and waiting to see one. I had never really fired this kind of weapon before, but I got the gist of it from watching them. There were at least 20 of them, marching toward me with rifles and clubs in their hands as they laughed. I looked down at my guns, and I felt like I was bringing a knife to a gunfight. There was no way I could make it out of it this time. The Wasteland would be the end of me on this day.
Once they got close enough, I took the first shot. I got one down with a shot to the head. The others stopped, and raised their guns. I fired once more before they returned. I managed to avoid taking a lot of shots, but I was definitely hit. I crawled into another room, further from the window, and hoped that they wouldn’t come any closer to me. I didn’t think they would, but they have been known to sometimes. I was dizzy, and weak. I looked down and saw a large bullet hole in my abdomen and laughed weakly.
I heard the bullets clip the house, again and again. I whispered to myself words of comfort, asking for something greater than myself to help me through this endeavor. It felt like days as they continued to bombard my little sanctuary with round upon round from their rifles. Eventually, though, it was quiet.
That was a few hours ago. I’m still laying in the room, since a bullet ricocheted and hit me in the leg. I can’t really move. I’ve lost a lot of blood, I know that. I’m not trying to even consider thinking that I’ll make it out of this alive. All I want to do is sleep right now. I can’t sleep yet. They might still be out there, waiting for me. But I’m so tired. I think I’ll just rest my eyes for a little while...
I’ve been chased by at least three days by the monsters-- the mutants, really. I can hear them screaming in the distance, calling out to me that they’ll kill me, they’ll eat my body. I’ve seen the things that they’ve done to other people as I’ve struggled to live here in what people call the Capital Wasteland. Bodies mutilated, their limbs ripped from sockets and left scattered around on the ground, eaten by absolute abominations of creatures that look like... like... I don’t even know, something from my nightmares. They look like humans, mixed with giant worms, with tentacles on their mouths. They’re like guards for the big, ugly, yellow mutants that actually talk and shoot at me when I get too close.
I don’t even know when I got into their territory, but I know I did. They screamed at me, said I was going to be dead, going to be meat. I ran as fast as I could, dropping guns and other items I really didn’t need to make myself lighter. I wanted to make sure they couldn’t get me. The first night I stayed, but didn’t really sleep, inside a house that didn’t have any furniture. I stayed upstairs, keeping myself in a locked room with my pistol in my hand. Every rustle outside made my jaw clench and sweat start to bead up on my forehead. I ate some food, old cans and preserved dinners from so long ago I’m surprised they didn’t kill me. But it was nice to actually eat food, even if it was just an uncooked can of pork and beans.
I stayed in the room until night fell again. I didn’t want to go out and possibly run into them during the day. At least in the night, I could try to sneak by them if I saw them in the distance. I don’t know how long I had been walking, maybe a couple of hours, when I ran into another group of them. I knew it wasn’t the same ones, they tend to not travel far from their mini encampments they establish. But I crossed into more territory. We traded gunfire and I was shot in the shoulder. I’d never been shot before then, and it’s not really something I intend on going through again, if I can help it.
I lost them in a city that we crossed into-- or, more accurately, what WAS a city-- and I took refuge, again, in a house. This time I managed to get some ammo for my pistol, and I found a rather nice looking rifle to work with, compared to the handgun. I also found some more food, and I found a shirt that I ripped to use as a bandage for my bleeding shoulder. That night, I actually slept. I slept through into the mid-afternoon. I would have slept longer but the food caused my stomach to cramp, and I wound up losing that meal. It was unpleasant, to say the least.
After I finished introducing myself to the bathroom, I heard the mutants again in the distance. There were more of them, I could tell. I heard them yelling at each other, at me, and at absolutely nothing. They yelled for blood, for my meat, and mocked me for hiding inside the building. I looked around to gather my supplies. I didn’t have a lot. I had nothing to protect me from the guns they use other than an old helmet that I wasn’t sure fit me. I had two guns-- the rifle, and my pistol. I had bullets, but only so many.
I went to one of the windows, the glass blown out long ago, and propped the rifle on one of the open spots and waiting to see one. I had never really fired this kind of weapon before, but I got the gist of it from watching them. There were at least 20 of them, marching toward me with rifles and clubs in their hands as they laughed. I looked down at my guns, and I felt like I was bringing a knife to a gunfight. There was no way I could make it out of it this time. The Wasteland would be the end of me on this day.
Once they got close enough, I took the first shot. I got one down with a shot to the head. The others stopped, and raised their guns. I fired once more before they returned. I managed to avoid taking a lot of shots, but I was definitely hit. I crawled into another room, further from the window, and hoped that they wouldn’t come any closer to me. I didn’t think they would, but they have been known to sometimes. I was dizzy, and weak. I looked down and saw a large bullet hole in my abdomen and laughed weakly.
I heard the bullets clip the house, again and again. I whispered to myself words of comfort, asking for something greater than myself to help me through this endeavor. It felt like days as they continued to bombard my little sanctuary with round upon round from their rifles. Eventually, though, it was quiet.
That was a few hours ago. I’m still laying in the room, since a bullet ricocheted and hit me in the leg. I can’t really move. I’ve lost a lot of blood, I know that. I’m not trying to even consider thinking that I’ll make it out of this alive. All I want to do is sleep right now. I can’t sleep yet. They might still be out there, waiting for me. But I’m so tired. I think I’ll just rest my eyes for a little while...