| lapsus_deus ( @ 2005-03-18 01:52:00 |
Venturing forth into Nod.
I went east to try and find more supplies for my settlement. I took my usual armament of the .50 handgun but also took the sword that Marci had stolen for me. She had proven it could be useful.
I drove the on the wrong side of the freeway. The Eastbound lanes were a parking lot but nobody was going west, so it was clear for at least a dozen miles. I had gone down wind from the Waste City, most of the small towns didn’t have shelters like where I lived, so I was likely to find ghost towns from the worst of the fallout.
About ten miles out I pulled off to scavenge and spent about 15 minutes walking the streets in silence. It was so sun-baked and barren. I loaded the car with supplies from a gas station convenience store but was unable to find any sort of weapons cache or store. When I had consumed almost half my fuel I had to turn back. How long can we live on cheese curls and chef Boyardee.
I found some bodies. They looked like they died from radiation sickness waiting for some kind of military help that never came. I opened up their wallets and took their drivers licenses if they had them. I can’t explain why, it just seemed like they deserved to be remembered by somebody still alive. I don’t know if I should combine them in a sort of memorial, or give them a symbolic burial (the driver’s licenses, not the bodies).
Scavenging food has gotten better, the rotten meat has turned to mud and the dairy is sealed. I did find bucket with a lid that was clean and think that if I use a broom handle with a potato masher on the end I can churn milk from Abel’s farm into butter. With stored grain from other farms and his, we’ve succeeded in making bread in a Dutch oven style, but it just lacks the subsistence we need in these quantities, and I think butter will help. If not, ill be able to waste some perfectly good milk.
I’m beginning to question if I should have given Marci the crutches. She’s up and about, sooner than I think she should be. I admire her spirit, but worry about what it will do to her recovery.
It’s hot out and I want a Slurpee.
I went east to try and find more supplies for my settlement. I took my usual armament of the .50 handgun but also took the sword that Marci had stolen for me. She had proven it could be useful.
I drove the on the wrong side of the freeway. The Eastbound lanes were a parking lot but nobody was going west, so it was clear for at least a dozen miles. I had gone down wind from the Waste City, most of the small towns didn’t have shelters like where I lived, so I was likely to find ghost towns from the worst of the fallout.
About ten miles out I pulled off to scavenge and spent about 15 minutes walking the streets in silence. It was so sun-baked and barren. I loaded the car with supplies from a gas station convenience store but was unable to find any sort of weapons cache or store. When I had consumed almost half my fuel I had to turn back. How long can we live on cheese curls and chef Boyardee.
I found some bodies. They looked like they died from radiation sickness waiting for some kind of military help that never came. I opened up their wallets and took their drivers licenses if they had them. I can’t explain why, it just seemed like they deserved to be remembered by somebody still alive. I don’t know if I should combine them in a sort of memorial, or give them a symbolic burial (the driver’s licenses, not the bodies).
Scavenging food has gotten better, the rotten meat has turned to mud and the dairy is sealed. I did find bucket with a lid that was clean and think that if I use a broom handle with a potato masher on the end I can churn milk from Abel’s farm into butter. With stored grain from other farms and his, we’ve succeeded in making bread in a Dutch oven style, but it just lacks the subsistence we need in these quantities, and I think butter will help. If not, ill be able to waste some perfectly good milk.
I’m beginning to question if I should have given Marci the crutches. She’s up and about, sooner than I think she should be. I admire her spirit, but worry about what it will do to her recovery.
It’s hot out and I want a Slurpee.