The darkness enveloped the cave, the damp blood and smoke soaked air drifting outside, I could see the last sparks of light drift away into the overgrowth. The small fire light at the entrance would only last me a few more hours, they will find me then, even now I can hear them outside the cave, breathing grasping for the small bits of my blood drifting through the air. The flames shall only guard me for so long, yet the bleeding wound wrapped in the dirty cloth won’t save me, even if I survive their assault, the weapons are deprived of any ammo, only but a few shots remain as the rifle lies uselessly away from me, only the small fire arm at my side is still of any use. My helmet had already been lost weeks ago, the armor torn and shredded, as though I just crawled out of a fist fight with a freaking bear in the hills. My left eye is already going blind, if I don’t do anything I will die pointlessly, yet the only thing at my side is this small box. I think Jerom called it a Walking Man, doesn’t look like a man, just some weird box with a tape inside, I think Gregory had one of them, he used to say that they were records. So perhaps I can at least record the last few hours of my life, what an uplifting thought that is, for the dying, the deprived and the damned. After fiddling around, I figured out how it worked, I don’t think its going to last long so what do I record? perhaps a heart felt message, like anyone would care. Maybe a story of some sort, that would be a waste of a relic, might as well just report on the mission, at least I can give the last few respects to my team.
This is a recount of mission Salvation, we we’re sent out to investigate the new continent, in the northern region, at least that’s what they called it, we were supposed to travel north and cross the “ocean” to reach the land beyond. After that we are to explore and report whether its a good location to host a new settlement. What a load of crap that was, the twelve of us were sent out supposedly to a safe region to a long hike, but what we found was a dead land, polluted, corrupted, twisted and abhorrent. We traveled for a whole year on foot and now I am recording this as the final survivor of my group, During these last hours I shall recant my journey and explain our situation and the deaths of my comrades.
At the beginning we were geared for no more then a 8 week journey, we rationed our food, ammo and tools, all of us were seasoned survivors, exploring the wastes, our group consisted of 2 snipers, Jerom and Furr. Jer was a well seasoned scavenger, he survived this long by not being stupid, if something goes wrong you needed to cover your tracks to survive, and he was good at it. Jerom lived through the years to a grey age when his body began to weaken he took up the rifle to deal with the freaks and ghouls that wondered in. Furr on the other hand is what you’d expect, a fur bag, can’t really tell if he’s a dog or something, but the scope suits him well, the guy bagged us more food during the darker phase of our “Expedition”. Then there was Halor she was our medic, skilled with a knife, honestly almost chopped Garys balls off when he got drunk. Witch brings us to him, Gar was a loud mouthed son of a scag that would always cause us trouble, but during the long journey his attitude kinda grew on us. He was good gunner with a love for his shot guns, though that blew his brains out a couple of months ago. Then there were the twins Kin and Kon we lost them mid way during an encounter with the religious ghouls, those nuts caught us half way through our escape and they chose to stay behind to allow us to get away. They were almost inseparable, both were mutants, looked like Prairie Dogs, at least that’s how Gregory explained it, they were skilled with silent weapons, those paws helped I guess. Witch brings us to our elder Greg, he was a talented fixer, kept our gear running and working, even though he always kept staring at those books of his, said he was reading, though I later learned he couldn’t read a word in them, was some other language supposedly. We also had 2 bots with us, junk bot and sh%t bot, both were in charge of labor work, though if it wasn’t for them, we would have died in several occasions, we lost them both during an incident in the cavern, they were sadly crushed, Gregory carried sh%t bots head for a few days before tossing it over a ridge. We also had a scout Raw, he was a bird mutant, luckily he bothered learning how to fly and could search the area ahead, we lost him rather early on, the bloody bastards shot him down in the undergrowth, poor b@stard managed to take out a few of them in a last ditch effort. Then there was Sam she was our jack of all trades, mixed and matched wherever she could get her hands in, she was the last to go before me, talented gal that one, just never applied herself. Thus lastly there was me, Frank, with a face like a sh%t house and a body to match, my only few quirks made my skin tougher and my talent with a gun better, sadly that didn’t save my sorry @ss. That is the short of our roster and as soon as we all were gathered we were kicked out to the northern lands, whether we liked it or not.