Diaries from The Scorched Earth
Monday, September 23, 2032
I write this with a shaking hand.
Four years ago, I was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. Having no other choice, I volunteered to be placed in cryogenic suspended animation while a replacement organ was grown. I think you will understand my trepidation, as cryogenic sleep technology is still in its prototype stage.
The other reason I hesitated is the world moves on while you're under.
When I woke up, the medical robot in the operating room gave me a brief summary of the time, date and how well my body was accepting the new organ. It then said, "all patients have been dealt with," and shut itself down. Its statement confused me, until I left the operating room.
To my right, everything looked normal, if dusty and empty. To my left, however, the entire hospital wing was simply . . . gone, reduced to ash and rubble as if it had been burned down. Shocked, I looked up over the rest of the city.
The rest of the city wasn't there. I was standing on the edge of a colossal crater that had once been New York City. I'm no scientist, but the glittering shards of glass lining the bottom of the crater still screamed the word 'thermonuke' into the back of my mind.
There was an eerie tingling feeling on my face and hands. With a start, I realized it was radiation, emanating from the still-glowing hypocenter of the crater. I panicked, turning and running blindly.
By the time I had exited the hospital (and regained my senses), it was sunset. I could still see a bizzare glow from behind the deceptively unmarred front of the hospital.
I heard a howl, in the distance. I immediately panicked again, and I turned to run. This time, however, I caught my foot on a large crack in the asphalt.
My last memory of that day is a clanging noise in my ears as my head bounced off the tarmac.
Tuesday, September 24, 2032
When I woke up, the pain in my head was not as prominent as the fear that I had received a lethal dose of radiation. There was no way to tell yet, though, as there were no external burns on my face or hands, and radiation sickness would not set in for a few days.
Even the fear of radiation faded, however, when I noticed a large set of animal tracks in the dust on the road. They were roughly pawlike although they only had two toes each. The claw-marks in the dust, indicating the thing had non-retractable claws, were disproportionately large compared to to the toes - they must have been an inch across, while the latter could barely equal that.
The tracks were fresh. I realized that the creature must still be close by. I grabbed a twisted piece of metal and, shivering at the thought of having to fight such a monster, started walking through the Dusty, sand-colored ruins of the city.
Wednesday, September 25, 2032
I had thought that by now I would be overjoyed to hear any human sound, but there is one noise I'll never be happy to hear: Gunshots.
I woke up this morning, on the roof of an abandoned factory, to machine-gun fire in the street below. I watched, horrified, as two groups of what appeared to be bandits slaughtered each other for what little they had.
After about an hour, the battle dissipated. The few survivors, who seemed to be allied, pillaged their opponent's camp site, grabbing food, water, ammunition and medical supplies. They selectively abandoned many items, however, and this left me puzzled.
When they had left, I scrambled down to the scene of carnage. After two days without food or water, I was ready to swallow almost anything. It was only after I was full and satisfied that I realized why the bandits had left these provisions behind. I dropped my loot in horror.
The rejected food and water was contaminated with fallout dust. I could feel it, a tingle in my stomach like I had drunk too much coke without letting the bubbles fizz away. I almost induced vomiting, but realized there was little point; the contamination would have already spread. I am now effectively doomed to suffer radiation sickness for the inevitably short remainder of my life.
Dear god, what am I going to do?
Saturday, September 29, 2032
I suppose I should take hope, for so far I am showing no physical signs of radiation poisoning. There is still cause for alarm, however - the creature with those huge claws seems to be following me; its tracks were all over the road just outside the abandoned gas station that I camped in last night.
Though I am now only drinking bottled water and eating only canned or packaged food, I can still feel radiation poisoning me. My hands and face feel like they're in the sun, even when it's dark. My stomach and chest always seem to tingle - this can make it very hard to sleep.
I apologize: I'm rambling. I have become very paranoid over the last two days, and writing excessively seems to alleviate stress. Maybe-
I just heard something outside. Like a heavy breathing. Oh god, I think the creature with the claws has found me!
It's gone now. Maybe I imagined it.
Recently, there seems to be a-
On May 6, 2033, Corporal Jake Anderson of the Re-United States Infantry Scouts entered an abandoned gas station as part of a routine search for supplies. He found this journal tossed under a vending machine. Human footprints, along with those of what is likely a Craven, were found in the dust, leading out onto the street.
No other trace of this unknown man was found.